Shortlisted
Three Brothers and I
Po Leung Kuk Choi Kai Yau School, Kylie Chong, 11
I
am the Gobi Desert. Swelteringly hot. Unforgiving. Temperamental. Lethal. Many have tried
to conquer me, to walk into my depths and emerge, alive. Not many have succeeded. The
ones, the unworthy, who failed, who did not persevere, sleep in my hands for all eternity.
I have seen many, a mere inch from survival, collapse from exhaustion, and so I claimed
their lives, as I had many more. Few can escape the wrath of the Gobi Desert, for I have been since
the start of time, and will be until the end. I am ever-changing. I can go from calm and sunny to
a tantrum, what you humans call sandstorms, in mere seconds. Cross me, and pay the price.
Today, mister wind came and blew through. He brought news of three brothers, whom had
vowed to conquer me, at the cost of their lives. Pah! As if I have never heard these proclamations
before, as if I have not claimed every life, every person that challenges me. But we shall see. Yes,
we shall see.
The first brother came, with a camel, riding over my palm. I saw he had not brought any
water, and smiled to myself secretly, amused at his foolishness. I heard him boasting to his
brothers: “I am confident that I will not need any water, and I will be back before ten days.” “I
await your good news, good brother.” “Do you fear not of perishing from lack of thirst?” asked
the youngest brother. Well said, I thought. But no amount of water can help you in the desert.
The older brother laughed and said: “No problem, my dear brother. I am sure that all will be well.”
Well, really! Who does this man think he is? A single tantrum of mine could finish him off, as
easily as I did all the others. But now is not the time. I will bide my time, and strike when the
time is ripe, and not before that.
In the morn, I looked up and saw Apollo driving his chariot above me. I do not keep track of
time, save morn and night. I looked down and saw the first brother walking along my arm at a
snail like pace. The camel was gone, eaten by the brother. He was weak from thirst and fatigue. I
admit it, I am cruel. I could not resist from showing him what he wanted most: Water and food.
I called on Apollo, my friend, to make a mirage of an oasis. The brother, with renewed hope,
staggered toward the shimmering mirage, only to fall back in defeat as he saw that it was nothing
but a mere illusion. Too weak to carry on, he crumpled on the desert floor, faint and desperate. He
was exhausted from walking in the desert heat and had sunstroke. Too tired to do anything, all
the fight went out of him at once. He simply lost the will to live and it was easy to finish him off.
And so, I took the first brother for my own.
The first brother was soon followed by the second brother. He was slightly smarter and
brought a water truck and a lorry full of food in strange shiny cans. At dusk, when it was cooler,
he set out. At night, he slept inside some kind of triangular contraption that protected him, no
matter how many fits I had and how many sandstorms I threw at him. It seemed that he was
certainly well prepared. He’d learned from his brother all right. But I’ll find a way, as I always do.
In the early morning, I looked down and found that I, again, had not much to do to dispose
of the second brother. It seems that, smart as he was, he had forgotten one vital thing: fuel. His
trucks had run out of fuel and he was faced with a problem: Should he stay here, with his food
and water, or should he carry on? He chose foolishly to carry on. Had he chosen to stay, he might
still be living. As it was, the second brother soon ran out of food and water and starved to death
