Fiction: Group 3
The Key to Our Hearts
St. Mary's Canossian College, Lo, Rosalia - 13, Fiction: Group 3
resh air rushed into my nose and trachea with my nerves becoming relaxed. I woke up from endless
imagination. Even though some annoying and vile bugs went into my view, my grandmother’s
hometown, Nanhai District was stunningly beautiful and looked like a picture featuring a shimmering
river joining the Pearl River flowing through the Poon’s village. Only a stone bridge crossed over it. Next
to the little traditional Chinese houses covered with red tiles on the rooftops, there were diligent people
planting and harvesting in the fields. Here was totally different from where I got used to live. Residing in
this quiet and peaceful village was not a bad decision. However, I always felt something unexpected brewing
once I stepped in.
I wandered around and enjoyed being alone for some time. My limbs were exhausted as we walked all the
way from town through the viscous mud after yesterday’s heavy downpour. I sat on the bridge with my legs
and feet swaying in the air above the pure running river water. I saw myself clearly. “She” was staring and
smiling at me. I turned around but no one was there. I was scared. I stood up straight swiftly. Unfortunately,
I tripped and fell into the water though I had tried to balance my body, fluttering my hands hard. I was all
wet and what I discovered was a fathomless pit at the bottom of the bridge. I slowly walked towards it
uncontrollably as it attracted me a lot and I was immersed in darkness and vanished.
It was cold and silent here. I could only hear my breathing sounds and heartbeats. I spotted a weak stream of
light seeping through a hole without noticing my key which was a gift from grandmother tingling. Taking a
peep, I finally realized the circumstance I was in. It was the Poon’s village. I glanced around the
surroundings. The bridge was half finished, the ground was dry and smooth and the buildings were much
newer than I thought. To my surprise, I saw my grandmother who had long hair and should only appear in
the old photos.
“Where am I? The hole is connected to the… to the past?” I said to myself unbelievably.
My watch showed a mysterious number ‘1963’. While I was startled, she came nearer and asked, “Don’t you
feel cold? All your clothes are wet. Come to my house. I’ll give you some dry clothes for change.”
I was much more comfortable with a new set of outfit. She was really a thoughtful and nice woman who
took care of me even though I was a stranger to her.
“Where do you live?” my grandmother asked in a worried tone.
“I’ve no home…” I replied in a dull voice.
She took my hands gently and invited me to move in. At first, I was quite looking forward to this new life.
Then I regretted. Every day, we woke up at five thirty early in the morning after the cock crowed. My
Grandmother was industrious. She went to the farmlands to plow till the sun sank without grumbling and I
trudged along unwillingly. The work was extremely harsh but I enjoyed the days soaking my legs in the
unpolluted river water.
There was always someone sneaking outside our home not far away. I noticed that that person had kept an
eye on my grandmother for some time. Would there be any chance that he was my grandfather? I could not
remember well if he was really the right choice for my grandmother because my impression towards my
grandfather was blurred. I decided to investigate his identity.
As usual, grandmother and I left the house for work. He appeared out of nowhere just like a ghost spying on
us. When grandmother took a toilet break, I secretly crept beside him.
“Who are you? What are you doing here?” I demanded.
His face flushed bright red like a tomato, and stammered, “I-I…um…come from the…uh…the
neighboring Lo’s village…”
Lo’s village?! He was my grandfather. I had to witness this memorable love story! While pondering about
their relationship, grandfather rushed away since my grandmother was back.
F
