Creative Writing
Shapeshifter
I think I am a shape-shifter. Not in the sense that my body can transform, but rather my spirit undergoes changes.
From my birth and throughout my growth, the experiences I've had shaped me. The external pressures, both good and bad, have altered my mindset. I have changed from a confident and aggressive being into a more introverted and shy existence. I no longer stand out. After all, the Chinese saying "the bird that sticks its head out gets shot" described the societal reality I was in. Standing out only made me a target for harm.
This transformation troubles me, I can no longer ignore the thoughts of others. I fear the harm that may come from the outside world. It seems I am still the wounded child from back then. If possible, I truly wish for another transformation. I hope to shed that outer shell, to burn away the needless shame. To bathe and be reborn as a freer existence, flying in this land of freedom. To reveal my true inner self.
My true ears should be more sensitive to sound, perhaps their larger shape would allow me to hear farther. Selfishly speaking, I also wish they were furry. They would guide me to listen to more sounds, to the subtle sounds of nature, and to feel emotions from others' words. If I could hear those suppressed voices, it would be wonderful. Perhaps it would enable me to help more people.
Unnamed Letter
Dear Friend,
It's been a long time. How are you? Forgive me for not visiting you in person lately, my old friend. I really wish I could meet you in person, but it's difficult with my current abilities. There's no way for me to move around with just my own abilities anymore, so I can only write here. But I'm still healthy, so if I get better, I'll try to come your way again.
Nothing has changed in my daily routine, except that I have become subject to the care of others. Do you continue to run your store? I suppose you are polishing your gold coins now, as you always loved to do. Have you been checking out the new city-states and landscapes? It's always a great world out there. Nothing can tie you down. I even found a location with a rare view a while back, if you're free, you can check it out too. I'm pretty confident you'll enjoy it. I took the picture and put it in the envelope later too, along with the map. You can look forward to seeing it.
What else can I say? By the way, I've always brought you the materials you need before, so let's send them together this time. But I can't go and bring you more now, so I'm afraid you'll have to find a new source for your goods. I feel like I can't say enough to you, but writing a letter makes me feel like I have no words. But I'm so lucky to have met you and become friends with you over the years. Does this seem like my suicide note? In that case, I have to apologize in advance. But I'm sure we'll meet again in the future. And don't worry too much about my emotions; I'm fine. And my journey is not yet over. May the Mother Crystal bless you.
Best
The Dreams of the Past
Dapples of sunlight spilled onto the ground, the sound of streams and birdsong surrounded the ears. A figure passed quickly through the cascading trees and finally landed lightly in front of the stream. Layers of waves rose from the relatively calm water. He casually wiped away the water droplets that remained around his mouth and face. Closing his eyes he casually felt the scent brought by the wind in the forest. The warmth of the sunlight on his body was pleasant. This feeling of peace and freedom was nostalgic, like returning home.
Suddenly there was a sound in my ears that shouldn't have been here. Snapping my eyes open, I realized that the originally peaceful atmosphere had been destroyed by all this. The sky turned as dark red as blood, and the smell of burning trees lingered at the tip of the nose. Everything in front of him was burning, non-stop. The forest was wailing. The roar of falling trees, the sound of black machinery running to its limit. Interspersed with these sounds were the roars of people, the cries of grief. He took another step, weaving through the forest with gusto. Dashing in the direction of those sounds.
Sweat caused a sticky discomfort as he sat up from the soft bed in the darkness. He subconsciously touched the scars left on his body. The shock and feeling from the reality-like dream just now had yet to fully dissipate. His throat was frighteningly dry and he eventually turned to the side of the bed and tiptoed out of it. The subtle movement of his body rubbing against the sheets caused some movement around him. "Are you okay?" The other person in the bed asked. "I'm fine." His voice was a little raspy, but he became much calmer than he had been a moment ago. The hazy light of the sunrise shone lightly through the curtains. "Good morning." He couldn't help but tickle the corners of his mouth, a slight smile coloring his voice.
Hometown
My hometown is a small coastal city in southern China. Surrounded by mountains on three sides and the sea on the other, the climate is humid. It's similar to Seattle, but it's much warmer. It seems to have a countryside atmosphere from the description, but unfortunately I was born in the middle of the city. With China's rapid economic development, not much greenery has been preserved in the city, but many more skyscrapers. The air is not as fresh as it used to be, and when I left there I was more or less affected by the haze. Though not as bad as in the northern cities.
Although it is the city where I was born, I have not had much stay in this city. When I think about it, I've only really lived in this city for seven short years. But because of this, I also seem to be more perceptive each time I return to the city. I can appreciate the changes that have taken place in this city.These changes are gradually causing the city I remember to peel and fade. But I can also find some new traces in it to add.
Having lived away from home for many years, one year my family went back to prepare for Chinese New Year as we had done in previous years. We were surprised to find that a form of transportation that we used to ride as children had disappeared from view. The tricycle, a caravan that relies on human power. It's an ancient form of transportation that might be considered backward. But in this small city, it is a very convenient presence. I've mentioned many times that my city is very small, so it's interspersed with many buildings. We will have many small, winding alleys. It is very difficult for the average vehicle to get into these alleys. And because of the scarcity of parking spaces, there are always cars parked on the side of the road, which makes it much harder for other vehicles to get through. That's why tricycles have become the best option for navigating through these alleys. It's faster, easier and cheaper to reach your destination. And it's also very comforting to drive around the city at night. Though the winter winds can be a bit chilly. This kind of transportation even has its own children's songs and jingles from our unique language and culture. But one year, this mode of transportation quietly disappeared from our sight.
Together with the yelling of the owners and the wind blowing in my face. Gradually faded out of my memory, my vision. Those red and blue carports will never gather under my house again. Our ease of traveling disappeared along with them, and in order to get to places a little farther away we had to hail cabs. But during rush hour there was not a single empty car at all. We later learned that this was the new mayor's policy for the new environment of the city. In order to prevent tricycles and motorized vehicles from grabbing the same lane. But now new fleets of tricycles are gathering underneath where they were once parked. Battery operated vehicles have taken the place of tricycles as I remember. They also still snatch the lane with motorized vehicles. That mayor also tried to improve the greenery in the city, and thanks to that, we've gained more garbage cans than any other city, and it's become much easier for me to throw out my trash. But people were upset with his policies. I have also resented the fact that this symbol of my childhood memories of transportation has been overhauled, making me feel that our city has lost a character, a symbol. But traffic safety should really be emphasized. It's just that those memories have gradually faded away in my mind with the changes, and have been buried in history with the current of the times.
First Encounter
A man with light chestnut hair clutched his arm, blood dripping from the wound he was holding. With each step, the droplets formed a winding path on the ground. His strides were slightly heavy, but he couldn't stop. The shouts of the crowd behind him were only a street away. He glanced down at the traces he left behind, attempting to erase some with his foot. But this movement aggravated his wound, eliciting a muted groan of pain. Then, he continued his pace, turning into a nearby dark alley.
The rain descended upon this unfamiliar town. His blood stains washed away by the rain might have been a stroke of luck for his predicament. The rain washed away the traces, causing the cursing pursuers to lose track of him. The rain soon formed a puddle, and the light of the lantern was reflected in this. Ripples formed in his stomping, leaving behind some red to blend in with the color of the lantern. his strength was gradually waning, the icy rain gradually stripping away the warmth from his body. Once again, entering another alley and confirming the distant voices had faded, he collapsed against the wall of the alley. A heavy thud echoed as he fell. Perhaps I'll die here? His mind was muddled, unable to think as sharply as usual. Yet, he still caught a sound in his ears, different from the rain. It was the creaking of wooden stairs and the gradually approaching footsteps of someone. Finally, the paper door in front of him was pulled open with a swish. Stepping out was a man with brown long hair, his face showing evident displeasure. He seemed about to say something when he was struck silent by the scene before him. After a moment of silence, the man with long brown hair slowly spoke, "Can you hear me? Are you still alive?"
The first time I saw him was on a dreary, rainy morning. The streets, just emerging from the bustling nightlife, should have been at their rare moment of tranquility. No drunken laughter or men and women quarrels, just the soothing sound of rain for company and rest. But today, it was filled with urgent footsteps and shouts, which irritated me, furrowing my brow. My heightened senses picked up that they seemed to be chasing someone, but it had nothing to do with me. With sleep no longer an option, I sat up. Unfortunately, a loud thud sounded downstairs, and I couldn't help but sigh. Trouble always seemed to find me.
I threw on a flimsy coat and grabbed the paper umbrella leaning against the doorstep. The wooden stairs creaked as I made my way downstairs, preparing to give someone a piece of my mind. However, the thick smell of blood invaded my nostrils, stimulating my senses. I glanced up, and in the dim alley, the first thing I saw was the pale red blood, swirling like ripples in the rainwater, slowly trickling into the nearby drain. The source of the blood emitted faint groans, breathing shallow and slow. His clothes were tattered, with traces of sharp objects cutting through them. The prominent wounds were laid bare amidst the torn fabric. In this poorly lit alley, his light chestnut hair stood out, even though the long, unkempt strands stuck to his muddy face due to the rain. Equally noticeable were his ears. I couldn't help but inhale deeply. It was the first time I had seen someone like me in this land.
"Can you hear me? Are you still alive?" I asked softly. He seemed to hear, as his ears twitched slightly. There was a momentary alertness in his light gray eyes peeking through the tangled hair, resembling a wounded wild animal's gaze. But soon, that feeling vanished with a glance of scrutiny. He gave me a reassuring smile, leaving me puzzled. Then, he passed out completely. Instinctively, I caught him, silently berating myself for meddling in someone else's business. With a resigned sigh, I dragged him indoors.
The Luminary
The waves lapped against the reef on a quiet night. In the center of the sea, boats drift. The waves gradually get stronger, on this starless night. Drifting aimlessly, an endless sea. How long has it been since I've seen land? It's deeply disturbing. Fear hangs over the mind. At that moment, some subtle points of light caught my attention.
It was the "L", a slight glow in the endless darkness. As if leading the way, it slowly drifted in one direction. I chased after it. The "L" was fast, slow, and sometimes stagnant. If I tried to reach out and grab it, it would flee again. Like it was teasing and playing. True to the rumor, when one feels fear in the endless darkness. It may be a spirit, a leprechaun, or a hallucination. But whatever it is, it brings warmth to the darkness, there's no doubt about it.
The "L" suddenly stops. It was only then that I noticed that I had reached land at some point. The slow disembarkation of the ship, a touch that had not been felt in a long time, the touch of the earth. The "L" dimmed and slowly fell. I stretched out my hands to catch it, and it lay quietly in my palm. It was losing temperature, but I didn't feel cold. Or on the contrary, I was becoming warm. I looked up and couldn't help but squint my eyes. It was the sunrise.
Silent Drift
Drifting and drifting. It was like a small boat in the middle of these waters, aimless. Merely floating above the water. The surface of the water ripples, but my heart has no ripples. It was just like a corpse, but it was incredibly relaxed and at ease. Without any worries, without any emotions. Just floating aimlessly like this. At some point a school of fish gathered around me, and one of them touched my toe, sending a slight itching sensation. It broke my sense of nothingness and brought me back to my senses. I couldn't help but try to turn my head, but keeping afloat for too long made my neck feel stiff. Soon afterward I gave up and had to use my afterglow to observe. I couldn't make out the fish, but felt them gathering more and more, surrounding me. They touched me like the first fish just now, and the itching sensation attacked all parts of my body, but I couldn't move. Because my body was as stiff as a corpse. But soon the itching was replaced by a burst of pain. A faint odor of blood drifted in. I sensed that these fish were gnawing on my body, flesh being torn from my body. My consciousness grew lighter with my weight. Gradually, it drifted away from my body and towards the equally blue sky. The blue filled the view.