The Past Runner
Kao Chu Ching, Group 4: Fiction, STFA Seaward Woo College
he incessant stream of heavy traffic has strengthened the vitality of this place, and the crowd of eastern
faces has enhanced the sense of mystery of this ancient city. Standing at the centre of this fast-moving
city, the old man has become estranged. The discordant noises from the traffic totally make him lose
his bearing, his impaired eyes obscure his way. To him, roaming around has already become a part of
his life. "What is home?!" No, he doesn't know. The Five-Starred Red Flag is being hoisted in the sky,
he finds a bench under the flag, and takes out his weathered-leather note book. Being scared of losing grasp of
the old memories in his mind, he keeps flipping the pages, again and again...
1937/7/9/,
The casualties of our National Revolution Army keep rising. They have reached 9788 dead.
When will the war end? I was sent to the concentration camp last night, since the invasion of the Imperial
Japanese Army has expanded to Wanping and Luqougiao. The radio has announced that “The Jap pretended
going on an inspection in Wanping, since they claimed that one soldier was missing, but our army insisted to
delay it until the dawn. The Jap then agreed and the troops then barricaded Luqougiao. Afterwards, the
vice-commander of the Jap still persisted in getting an investigation. Refused by our army, they launched
rockets outside the east and west entrances of the bridge. The battle then started.” What happened to the Jap?!
Their dehumanizing attack is the worst thing I’ve ever seen. I was woken up by the bombing sound of the
cannons, when it dropped right on the concrete road. Everyone in the camp is living under the horror. The fear
of death, the fear of loss, the fear of the bombing sound, the fear of barbarism, the hope of survival, the hope of
victory. Last night, an old lady died since her heart attack relapsed, her body was then dumped outside, without
being buried. The dreams she once had, turned into nothing. Just like throwing away a bag of garbage, no one
would remember the importance or even existence of this fragile soul. The siren has just sounded. What will
happen?!
1937/12/15,
I followed the troops to Nanking yesterday. The Japanese started their massacre. Will we win
the fight? No one knows the answer. The city was on fire. The dead bodies were at every corner of this Capital. I
started to forget what this place was like just a week before. The pierce screaming sound of women, the shooting
sound of rifles firing, the sobbing sound of begging, filling up the whole city. I saw a little girl sitting beside a
lady’s side, and shaking the lady’s pale, naked and bloody body, trying to wake her up. That was her mother I
guessed. I wonder how her life will be changed. Will she become a victim of the Japanese cold-blooded war?!
Still, no answers for this question. The mud hills are everywhere. The Jap bury alive human-beings under the
soil. No one seems to hear the voices of the victims, I could still see them struggling under the soil after having
a bucket of mud poured on their bodies. The buried ones know that in their hearts, there is no bargain for their
death. They should be the sacrifice of this war. I can no longer tolerate the miserable distress signal from the
women. How can we save them, as everyone’s life is at stake?! Desperation is everywhere. I got shot on my left
arm last night, when I went out trying to have my expedition on this cruel, brutal war. The days to victory seem
too vague to be seen. Will I still be alive tomorrow?! Again, there’s no answer.
1945/8/15 “
After the revenge taken by the Americans on Japan, Japan has finally surrendered. The radio
announced that “After the atomic bomb named “Fat Man” dropped on Nagasaki on the 6th of August and “Little
Boy” dropped on Hiroshima on the 9th of August, Japan has declared surrender.” The radio has announced
again and again. Yet, this city is still filled up by horror, living under the shadow of being attacked, manipulated
and destroyed. Will the peace last? No one has any clue about it, as no one knows whether the harmony will last
long. Nevertheless, the darkness has already gone, the gloomy days are now gone. Fear can now be alleviated
and the happiness of victory can never be hidden.
1966/5/27/,
The Cultural Revolution has been underway for weeks. I knew that peace wasn’t going to last
long. Communism and Capitalism will never compromise. The struggle session happened everywhere. The
bigotry of people following the commands of their leader has intensified. Schools are being destroyed, books are
being burnt and teachers are being humiliated. What happened to the people?! Where are the people who once
desperately asked for peace going?! Our cultural heritage is on fire, it reminds me of the scenes of thirty years
ago. Children confronted their parents, people preferring capitalism are killed and being tortured. Off-springs
are asked to shoot their parents in front of the red guards. Tragedies are everywhere, I wonder if the people are
already numb from being exploited?! What happened to our freedom?!...
The old man rubs his eyes and tries to keep on reading, but he is too old to have enough energy to keep it
up. He closes the note book with his trembling and boney hands. Being a war correspondent was a whole part of
his life. He has seen the changes of China through the years, but who cares?! As this running-on-the-edge city
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