voice story

Beginning in March 2019, my ears began to be filled with all kinds of harsh sounds, forcing people to feel as painful as dancing on the tip of a knife. In mid-November, the first time the children in the family experienced the suspension of classes was not due to bad weather. The only way from Tai Po to Kowloon Tong to go to school was impassable. The vicinity of the primary school campus was like a battlefield, filled with gunpowder smoke. The tension that hangs over the adults' heads, the children can't understand, but feel happy, because the ongoing exams have been suspended, and they are taking unreasonable vacations.

Stuck at home and can't go anywhere. You can only take your children to the nearby Jiulongkeng Mountain Trail for a walk. Go up the mountain from the entrance of the mountain trail, which can be reached in ten minutes on foot from home. After the last long staircase, you reach the fourth rest point. Every time you go up here, the children will rush over to swing on the swing. Climb up and install. Accompanied by the happy laughter of the children, I quietly walked to the side of the pavilion to listen to the sound of the wind.

The wind on the mountain grows and falls, listening to the rustling wind with my ears, trying my best to open my eyes to see what the wind looks like, the autumn wind hiding behind the swaying leaves, leaving a sound at every step but never meeting me, Zhang Da Because of the dryness of the eyes and the accumulated emotions, the tears flowed one after another without warning. The wind made a gentle soothing sound and stroked my cheeks again and again, as if trying to wipe away the bitter tears for me.

"Tell me, how can I get through these days?"

"What will it be like to survive?"

However, the wind did not answer me, but only ordered the trees on the top of the mountain to sway wildly, whistling and making sharp noises, accompany me to get lost and suppressed together.

After a few days off, the children resumed classes, and life seems to have returned to a little normal, but it seems that there is nothing. All kinds of news pass through the eardrum mercilessly, and the whole person seems to be thrown into a sealed golden bell, and there are always people outside. Knocked, trapped inside, I was shocked by the buzzing sound so I couldn't think, my soul floated above the golden bell, looked at myself trapped in the hood with cold eyes, didn't say a word, as if I was going to turn around and leave in the next second, Let the flesh rot and stink.

Before the smoke of gunpowder dissipated, and the rust smell of blood and tears was still floating in the air, the virus was ruthlessly slaughtered and forced to be isolated at home. The children were suspended from school again. The Jiulongkeng Mountain Trail became our refuge center again. We ran all the way to the top of the mountain, the children still rushed to the swing, and I listened to the wind and went crazy. The father who works in Taiwan cannot come back because of the epidemic, so he left his wife and children to live on the edge of the storm in Hong Kong. At that time, the spring was bright and the flowers were blooming, but I didn't have the leisure time I enjoyed in previous years. I just felt lonely and desolate in the gentle swaying of leaves. The sound of the spring wind is so soft, it seems that I can use a small soft brush to brush the dust off the leaves all winter, but I can't clean anything with such a light force, I really want to remove the careless wind from the trees. Pulled off, beaten, and let the wind make a shrill winter noise to soothe the insane but maddening irritability in my heart.

The adults are deadlocked on the issue of where to stay, and the children continue to study at home. As loneliness and anger pile up day by day, summer is here. Summer in the New Territories is always a few degrees higher than that in the urban areas. The humidity and heat accompanied by the croaks of frogs and insects that I don’t know how to restrain completely drove me crazy. The wind on the Jiulongkeng Mountain also became extremely hot, like a poisonous snake spitting flames, hissing sound, and bluntly scraping my cheeks. The feet that have been dancing on the tip of the knife are already dripping with blood, and the closed mouth is not allowed to exhale a little pain.

Dad endured the quarantine to reunite with us, and after reaching an agreement to leave, he flew back to Taiwan to continue the quarantine. And I was thrown into all the trivialities I had to deal with in order to leave. The shocking news of the epidemic, entered the left ear, no matter how hard it was pulled, it just didn't roll away from the right ear, and the electronic sound broadcasting the infection numbers circulated in the brain like a spell; The sound of a phone call that doesn't work; the dull sound of the train wheels rubbing against the rails when taking the MTR to and from the city frequently; the heavy breathing sound of running around wearing a mask under the scorching sun; Being sent to the hospital for isolation due to virus infection, it seems that the only way to stop the hustle and bustle in my ears and gain a short-term tranquility.

Gradually, there was only "goodbye" in all the noise, and I also began to accept that I would no longer be able to hear the voices of Hong Kong with my own ears. On the day I left, through the small porthole of the plane, I stared at the sea below the plane with my eyes wide open, and in the hoarse engine sound, I heard the sound of my tears falling...