Fiction: Group 2
Journey Back to Freedom
St. Paul's Co-educational College Primary School, Cheung, Laetitia - 12, Fiction:
Group 2
am Snowy, a petite, silver-scaled Reeves Shad belonging to an ancient but disappearing clan of fish.
We frolic by the hundreds in the salty, foamy sea waters off the coast of Macau. Each spring we migrate
upstream through the fresh waters of the Pearl River to deposit our eggs. Though a grueling journey, it
is in our blood to retrace our way to our birthplace, along a remote stream of the West River. This used to
be my favorite adventure, but last spring it was completely different.
“Look, Snowy! We’ve got company!” my cousin Spotty shouted. Our scout flicked his tail
excitedly.
“Stay close. Paddlefish,” Papa muttered. We swam closer, hundreds of us, packing our bodies
tightly until we had formed ourselves into the shape of our most feared enemy, the giant Paddlefish.
As we crossed paths, I noticed something strange about our enemy. Its tail was trailing apart! I
swam towards it and spotted a straggler. Eyeing it from nose to tail, I thought, how peculiar. He looked
just like one of us.
“Hey! Where are you from?” I commanded.
“I’m … I’m … lost,” he stammered. “At first we were home. Then we swam out, fast as we
could!”
I discovered that my ‘twin’ and his family had just escaped from a huge worn net that had enclosed
his family for many generations. When one corner of the net had snagged, his whole family swam to
freedom, but he was too weak to keep up. His name was Buddy, but it took a while for us to become
buddies.
Buddy had brains but no brawn. I showed him how to dive to the sandy bottom to catch fresh,
juicy plankton for breakfast. He complained that we swam too fast and too far, but he never gave up. He
swam in spurts. Soon his flabby flesh developed into firm muscles and his scales turned shiny.
Each time we spotted an evil net, Buddy’s eyes would pop out. I could see a cold chill run down
his spine. I had to nudge him to swim away.
Moving upstream brought many new dangers. The waters turned muddy and murky, and my
scales were scalded by the searing heat. Sometimes the water tasted oily, other times metallic. My mum
grew weak and sick carrying her 2,000,000 eggs through these toxic waters, where rubbish, plastic bags and
chemicals floated on the surface of the water. In the past, the banks of the river were rows of lush trees and
green fields, filled with the cries of children. But now the banks of the river had been polluted by factories
and construction workers, noisily chattering away.
“I need to take a rest,” Mama whispered. “Please look for a spot.”
Spotty veered northwest to look for quieter streams, but we rammed into an alien wall. It was a
cold slab of concrete extending across our entire pathway. On one side, a massive steel arm was churning
up the water, upsetting the natural flow of currents. Spotty poked around for an opening, but we were
blocked. We had to find another pathway.
“Can’t go on,” Mama murmured. Her face was pale and her tail flickered one last time. Her
strength left her. The currents dragged her limp body away.
After a while of mourning, Buddy and I discovered one of my cousins hiding beneath the reef. She
slowly struggled to the surface, carrying her eggs.
“We’ve no time to lose,” I urged Buddy. We nose-dived and swam to her side, determined to
complete our mission. Moving northwards, the currents became calmer and cooler. I sensed that we were
getting very close.
We swam into the third stream of the river and I started looking for the forest of ferns. “Buddy, let’s
play,” I exclaimed. I darted in and out of the seaweed, looking for the forest of ferns. Where had they
gone? Sand, rocks, sand. I looked up and saw a cloud of grease spreading like a storm. The water was so
murky that my gills became stuck. I choked and blacked out.
We later found out that we were scooped out of the toxic waters by white nets and transferred to
a fresh water sanctuary for endangered fish. We had the privilege of mixing with rare predators including
the giant Paddlefish, the ancient Chinese Sturgeon (whose belly held zillions of eggs) and the Spiky-Head
Carp. We even met our great grand uncle, the Seasonal Shad. The water was fresh and there was plenty of
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