Born from the mud, yet deluding myself to bloom into a sacred flower. In the end, I will only perish together with the filth formed from the decay of generations of withered branches.
"Whoosh whoosh whoosh" The intricate alleyways of Kowloon were so quiet at this moment that only a rapid breathing could be heard.
The woman ran while constantly looking back, as if a demon was chasing her, ready to drag her into hell when she least expected it.
The woman around the corner slipped into the stairwell and hid in a dark corner to slowly calm her breathing.
After calming down a bit, she took out her phone. The dim light shone on her terrified, distorted face, and her fingers were still trembling as she typed.
"He found me. I'm finished because I know his secret. We were wrong from the start. No, he's the one who's wrong, that monster, he doesn't deserve it."
Thump. Thump. Thump. Her slow, deliberate steps seemed to pound on her already fragile heart, sending her plummeting deeper and deeper into despair.
"It's over, it's over..." she kept repeating to herself, as if possessed.
The message was sent out before it was fully edited, and that glimmer of light was extinguished completely in the darkness.
To the children of Kowloon, the sky is a narrow, square corner. There are no stars, only a dark, heavy curtain, like the one draped over a coffin at a funeral.
(The Kowloon Walled City was demolished in 1993. The description in this article is my own creation. Please do not take it too seriously.)
(The title and the main text are not closely related, because I'm terrible at coming up with names.)