A Prophet's Tale: A Collection Of Short Stories From A Twisted Mind

No Matter How Hard I Fight

It is the same every day, I wake up, get dressed, go to school, come home from school, tend to my mother, go to bed. The cycle seems to be never-ending. That my life will also occur around these six occasions. I live in Lijiang, China, in a house on the outskirts of town. It is just my mother and me, no one else. My father abandoned me when I was 4 years old. This is my life.

It happens every day, and I am told to not think about it. As soon as I come home every day, representatives from the local gang leave my house. I rush in, always to find my mother crying on the ground. Today was the worse it has ever been. She has a black eye, blood dripping down her face, and her clothes are lying on the floor. I run to the bathroom and put a towel around her.

"Mother, enough is enough, look what they have done to you!" I shout at my mother. Shouting was unnecessary, but I am angry and I am not sure if any damage has been done to her ears.

"Huo don't... I need this job it is the only way we can keep on living... You need an education... I need you to be better than me."

After every sentence, she stated she panted. My mother worked as a prostitute. I don't have a job, not yet at least. I am only 15 and a half, so in 6 months I can start working. I may have to quit school and work full-time. My only concern is keeping my mother safe.

I put her to bed. We say goodnight. I wait till she asleep to grab my bag and leave. I ride my bike across the city, till I reach the headquarters of the local gang. It is a warehouse, run down and rusty, but screaming and loud music can be heard from within. I flip up my hoodie over my head, women are not allowed anywhere near this part of town. I have short boyish hair, and I am relatively flat-chested, I could easily pass off as a boy, in the dark. I knock three times, on the big steel door. A man opens the door and asks why I am here. I respond in the manliest voice possible. I ask for Jing-Yun Wong, the main gang member that comes to my house. He comes to the door.

"What do you want, little boy"

At least I know my disguise works.

"Stop going to Lihua Jiao's place," I try and sound as threatening as possible. I am terrified that if they find out who I am, that I will end up worse than my mother.

"WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, BOY!!!" He yells at me. I have angered him. I need to get away. I just hope my survival instincts kick in soon.

He opens the door wider. I don't even think, I just sprint to the alley where I ditched my bike. I feel something fall out of my pocket, but I can't go back, I just keep running.

As I return home, I lock all the doors and check my pockets to find the thing I dropped.

"F**K!!!" I scream, but then I realise that my mother is sleeping, so I stop the very explicit sentence I was reciting. I fall on my bed in anger. I hope that everything will be okay, even though I know I made things much worse. I crawl under the covers, praying that everything will be alright. I fall asleep. The last thought I remember having, is 'I hope they didn't find my wallet in the dark'.

I wake up suddenly, tired. I walk out of my room, I have to force my eyes closed, it is too bright. I continue to tread to the bathroom when a surge of pain rushes up my arm. I scream. I open my eyes to see my living room engulfed in orange. I look at my arm, blisters are forming all along it. I smell the air. I smell something burning. My brain finally puts together the pieces. I run through the flames, to my mother's bedroom, covering my mouth with my shirt. She is lying in bed. I see a match and a gas bottle, through the flames. They must have thrown them in through the window. This is where the fire started. I can't get to my mother.

"MOTHER!!! MOTHER!!! MOTHER!!!" I scream at the top of my lungs.

I can't remember when I started, but tears are streaming down my face. I fall to my knees. I have nothing left. No mother, no house, no money, meaning no education, and as soon as they find me, if I am alive, I will be killed on sight by any member of the gang.

"This is all my fault, I'm sorry mother," I whisper. I kneel there in front of her room and I just let the flames take me.

I should be dead, but I wake up. The flames have settled and my house is charred. I get up off the ground. I sprint to my mother's side. All that is left is her burnt, lifeless corpse. The one time I couldn't save her and it is all my fault. I feel sadness, remorse and most of all anger at the same time. I finally realise that a light is emitting from where I am standing. I jump back, freaking out, thinking that part of the house is still on fire. I start searching for the light source, once I realise that the house is definitely not on fire. I walk into the bathroom, the light is even brighter. I rub the ash from the mirror. I can't believe it myself, but the light source was me. My whole body is covered, head to toes, in flames. I jump back and scream. I attempt to punch the wall to see if I could feel pain, to see if I was really alive. A ball of raging orange flames flew out of my knuckle. I try punching a few more times, all ending with the same result as the one prior. I rid my mind of everything. My survival instincts kick in. I let the fire inside me take over. I know who took everything away from me.

The bike ride there, seemed like it took forever. I thought, 'It is the fault of man. They think they're superior to women, smarter, stronger, more powerful. They think that because of this they can abuse us and trample all over us. We are just as powerful as them, I just want to them to experience the pain they put us through first hand'.

I blast the door down. I walk through the building. I illuminate the whole warehouse. The gang members look up at me, attempting to unholster their guns. I burn them alive with my power. I hear screaming, shouting, cries of pain. I block all remorse out, and let the rage take over. I walk around the back, where the gang heads hung out. They had heard the screams and created a barrier with a nearby table. I throw flames, after flames at them, one more powerful than the next, but always hitting the barrier not them. They shoot at me. Two bullets hit me and pierce my abdomen. I continue firing my balls of flames. I scream and my whole body shoots flames, creating a mini bomb. I look around, exhausted. I see the black bodies of the gang leaders lying on the floor. I count 5/6 of the gang leaders dead. I look around for the sixth. I can't find him anywhere.

I suddenly fall to the ground. I begin to feel the explosive pain in the back of my head. I look up from the hard, concrete warehouse floor. I see the man responsible for all this. He walks, dragging a steel pipe behind him.

"Huo Jiao, you seem to be angry with me for some reason."

Jing-Yun is playing with me. He doesn't seem phased that I am on fire and able to shoot flames out of my fists.

"You took my life away from me"

I spit out blood at the end of the sentence.

"Do you know our motto here. Didn't think so. We believe that men should regain control of society and rule over this world. We believe women are objects and should be servants to the superior sex. But you obviously, don't share our beliefs. You come in here and destroy my life. What makes you think that you can take my precious life away from me, especially after I did you a favour ending you pitiful one."

He stands in front of me. I spit blood on his shoes.

"How dare you!" He slaps me. He lifts up the pipe and brings it over his head ready to take a swing.

I know there are good men out there. Only some men are like this, but I exist in a world where all the men are selfish pigs, who treat women like slaves. I have learnt about good men and men who care for women and the idea of gender equality, but that is just a child's dream to me. All I know is that abusing, sexually assaulting, discriminating and ruling over women is the norm. I lay there, believing that life for women, will never improve, that I am lucky I die here so that my children never have to live in this hell. My last thoughts are sad and depressing, I know, but it is my life. I realise that no matter how hard I fight, I will always lose. Men have been the same since the 17th century, rulers of society and the women in it.