Fiction: Group 3
Two hours later, Joanne was paddling her yellow flimsy raft on the Pearl River – well it wasn’t really
yellow, Joanne smudged her raft with mud and grass to camouflage it so that it would be unnoticeable.
Joanne ducked her head from the open air, careful not to be seen. However, she would occasionally peek
over and look at the scenery of the Pearl River to enjoy the rare landscape and also to check if she was on
the right course.
Houses sprawled along the river banks of the Pearl River, snaking along the edge like some giant multi-
colored dragon. Trees and grassland blended with buildings and developing factories. Chatter and laughter of
distant citizens could be heard even in the River.
A night later, Joanne felt ravenous. She looked around her tiny raft, only to realise that she had no rations
with her.
After all those well done preparations, I did not bring any food with me?
Joanne wanted to scream
in disbelief, but she managed to swallow down her anger. Reluctantly, Joanne leaned over the edge of the
raft and took a big sip from the river. She knew that drinking raw water without boiling it will cause
sickness, but it was unavoidable, she had to drink in order to survive, as well as try to catch a few fishes to
eat. Joanne ignored the aching of her grumbling stomach, the irritating feeling that felt like a snake twisting
in her insides.
Three days later, the weather became ruthless, the winds had picked up and the flimsy raft was swaying
dangerously.
It’s probably a typhoon; didn’t this area have loads of those?
Joanne thought bitterly.
I knew I
should’ve checked the bloody weather forecast.
But miraculously, her rickety boat was not wrecked by the
winds, at least not till morning.
~~~
Joanne woke up to the burning cold icy water at dawn. The rubber raft had been flipped over by the
reckless winds and she was thrown overboard. The cold pierced her skin like burning daggers. Joanne
kicked and thrashed, trying not to be separated from her raft and keeping her afloat. She tried without
success to flip her raft back up, but instead slipped and felt sharp rocks tear open her skin.
No!
Joanne swallowed in her screams of sharp pain. She mustn’t let anyone hear her.
After a few more tries and getting a lot more cuts and bruises, Joanne finally got her insubstantial raft to flip
back to the proper way. She hoisted herself on the raft and curled into a ball.
Joanne couldn’t control her shivering. She was shaking like a leaf. She could’ve gotten hypothermia from
the river for all she knew. “Stay strong, Jo. If you’re going through hell, keep going.” She muttered.
Hyperthermia had taken over Joanne. Her fingers shook from the cold, she couldn’t feel her toes and she
couldn’t make herself feel warm. Even though the typhoon had passed away, it kept raining. The freezing
rain soaked into her clothes and leeched out all her warmth. Even worse, the cuts made from the rocks had
become infected. Yellow pus leaked from her wounds, it was unbearable and horrid. It was all those nights
that made Joanne lose strength and made her lose hope.
Joanne lay on her raft like a corpse. Two and a half weeks had passed and there was no sign of Hong Kong.
Joanne was thinking of the worst.
Maybe I have already drifted out of the Pearl River delta, in to the South
China Sea. It won’t matter anyway, I’m already half dead.
As if mocking her, land appeared on the left of her raft. British styled buildings came out of the fogged air.
Fishing boats and large ships alike cruised in front of her. The impressive sight of the mountain reaching out
into the sea, British men and Chinese fishermen trading, chatting and catching up on the latest gossip
delighted Joanne. Her blue eyes shone with new hope, her pale dehydrated lips broke in to a grin. A whoop
of joy came out of her mouth. Newfound strength surged through her arms. Adrenaline flowed in to her
blood. Her thin arms took the wooden paddle and breathlessly paddled towards the trading terminal.
