Harbour
Written on the bus to school, for brigits_flame. [I don't quite like the writing style here, but I wrote it in a hurry and my writing lately is just kind of muddy, no thanks to school. Been some time since I wrote for the Flame.]
Summary: A young girl talks to the refugee in her home. Set during World War 2.
473 words
Notes: It's pretty common in Asia (at least, where I live) to refer to people you know as brothers, sisters, or uncles or aunts. They don't have to be blood-relatives. Hope that clears things up. Plus, I'm relying on memory for this, so my apologies if I've got my facts messed up.
+ Ah-Mei is not her actual name -- it's more of a casual term, meaning "sister".
+ The "-gor-gor" suffix means "elder brother" in a Chinese dialect.
+ "-shu-shu" means "uncle"
+ "-ah-yi" means "aunt".
"De Wei-gor-gor, I'm hungry." I stare miserably at my companion, hoping that he has a better idea now of how to get us food. My stomach gnaws. It's been months since I've had a proper meal.
"I'm sorry, Ah-Mei. I wish I could do something about it." The lanky boy next to me shrugs, gathering little cloth pyramids in his hand. He's been teaching me to play the game, Five Stones, that he says girls my age always play, but my wrists just can't seem to move as fast as his do. "Go find your Ma. Maybe she has something cooking in the kitchen."
We both know that the metal pot on the stove is empty. Lunch was watery, tasteless porridge four hours ago that Ma forced me to eat. She said we're lucky to even have rice in our bowls.
I shake my head. The afternoon is hot and my hand-me-down dress clings uncomfortably to my back. I fiddle with the worn hems. "Can we go out to play?"
"You know we can't." De Wei-gor-gor hurls the stone-filled triangles onto the floor with a flash of anger that makes me cower. The emotion in those inky eyes of his is stark even in the dimness of the cramped room. I shrink towards the bed, a thin mattress on creaky wooden frames. "Those damn Japanese bastards. I'd take them on if I had the guns they do!"
Over my drawn-up knees, De Wei-gor-gor looks a little dangerous, with his glaring eyes and unkempt black hair. But he's not as strong as the soldiers that raid our house every so often. He's far less skilled than they are, and he stays in this room all day in case passers-by tattle. The Japanese are looking for men of all ages. I bite my lip and refrain from saying a word.
De Wei-gor-gor is my neighbours' only son. Bao-shu-shu and Lien-ah-yi were killed when he was in the forest gathering food some time back, my Ma told me. He now hides from the soldiers when they come by. De Wei-gor-gor tells me that, every day he survives, he gets another chance to grow powerful enough to fight the invaders. Some afternoons I watch him practise with his Pa's knife.
"You'll be safe, won't you, De Wei-gor-gor?" I ask in a small voice. Pa has been taken away by the soldiers, and I haven't seen him since. Ma cries over him sometimes. I miss my Pa, and I don't want the same to happen to De Wei-gor-gor.
He places a large hand on my head and ruffles my hair. "Don't worry, Ah-Mei. I'll stay alive if you don't reveal my secret."
My mind flickers briefly to the hole concealed by floorboards under the bed. It's a good hiding place. I smile at De Wei-gor-gor, nodding my agreement.
Summary: A young girl talks to the refugee in her home. Set during World War 2.
473 words
Notes: It's pretty common in Asia (at least, where I live) to refer to people you know as brothers, sisters, or uncles or aunts. They don't have to be blood-relatives. Hope that clears things up. Plus, I'm relying on memory for this, so my apologies if I've got my facts messed up.
+ Ah-Mei is not her actual name -- it's more of a casual term, meaning "sister".
+ The "-gor-gor" suffix means "elder brother" in a Chinese dialect.
+ "-shu-shu" means "uncle"
+ "-ah-yi" means "aunt".
"De Wei-gor-gor, I'm hungry." I stare miserably at my companion, hoping that he has a better idea now of how to get us food. My stomach gnaws. It's been months since I've had a proper meal.
"I'm sorry, Ah-Mei. I wish I could do something about it." The lanky boy next to me shrugs, gathering little cloth pyramids in his hand. He's been teaching me to play the game, Five Stones, that he says girls my age always play, but my wrists just can't seem to move as fast as his do. "Go find your Ma. Maybe she has something cooking in the kitchen."
We both know that the metal pot on the stove is empty. Lunch was watery, tasteless porridge four hours ago that Ma forced me to eat. She said we're lucky to even have rice in our bowls.
I shake my head. The afternoon is hot and my hand-me-down dress clings uncomfortably to my back. I fiddle with the worn hems. "Can we go out to play?"
"You know we can't." De Wei-gor-gor hurls the stone-filled triangles onto the floor with a flash of anger that makes me cower. The emotion in those inky eyes of his is stark even in the dimness of the cramped room. I shrink towards the bed, a thin mattress on creaky wooden frames. "Those damn Japanese bastards. I'd take them on if I had the guns they do!"
Over my drawn-up knees, De Wei-gor-gor looks a little dangerous, with his glaring eyes and unkempt black hair. But he's not as strong as the soldiers that raid our house every so often. He's far less skilled than they are, and he stays in this room all day in case passers-by tattle. The Japanese are looking for men of all ages. I bite my lip and refrain from saying a word.
De Wei-gor-gor is my neighbours' only son. Bao-shu-shu and Lien-ah-yi were killed when he was in the forest gathering food some time back, my Ma told me. He now hides from the soldiers when they come by. De Wei-gor-gor tells me that, every day he survives, he gets another chance to grow powerful enough to fight the invaders. Some afternoons I watch him practise with his Pa's knife.
"You'll be safe, won't you, De Wei-gor-gor?" I ask in a small voice. Pa has been taken away by the soldiers, and I haven't seen him since. Ma cries over him sometimes. I miss my Pa, and I don't want the same to happen to De Wei-gor-gor.
He places a large hand on my head and ruffles my hair. "Don't worry, Ah-Mei. I'll stay alive if you don't reveal my secret."
My mind flickers briefly to the hole concealed by floorboards under the bed. It's a good hiding place. I smile at De Wei-gor-gor, nodding my agreement.