Well, here I am once again with a story. This one was one that I wrote for school. The assignment was to rewrite a scene of the book "Forbidden City" by William Bell in the point of view of someone other than the main character. Though I'm classifying this as fanfiction, all characters in this story are original save one. I think that you'll know who that one person is, if you've read the book. So, everyone I know says that this story is freakin' awesome, so.... So. This is my first shot at serious writing. I mean, usually I'm one to write fall-out-of-your-seat-from-laughing-so-hard humor, but this is really sad, in my humblest of opinions.

Note: If you haven't read the book, this fic focuses around a PLA soldier the night of the Tian An Men Square Massacre in Beijing. Basically, students were protesting at the square on June 4, 1989 and the People's Liberation Army (think the National Guard) came in and cleared the square. With force. You know- guns, tanks, all that stuff. Ick.

Also, I used www.mandarintools.com for Chinese names. Though I'm no speaker of Mandarin, I think that Mai Jing-xiang is pronounced my jing-chee-ang and Enling ihn-leeng. Jing-xiang, loosely translated, means "hero of respect or honor", which is really rather ironic. Enling means "kind spirit", and is her pet name. Also, the little Flash. thingies that you see signify the start and end of a flashback.

I'll shut up and leave you to reading. Chao!

-Ellen (WormmonABC)

Cherry Blossoms

I stood near the east entrance to Tian An Men Square, breathing hard. My faded green uniform was covered with sweat from prolonged fighting at an ungodly hour. I had an AK 47 slung over my shoulder, my ammunition belt completely empty. I, Mai Jing-xiang, was a soldier in the People's Liberation Army- an officer, if my four shirt pockets were anything to go by.

I had been there on May 23 when the 38th division of the PLA- my division- had been given orders to clear the square of the demonstrators. We had failed, and because of my rank, the blame had fallen on me. Then, miraculously, the PLA had given me a chance to redeem myself by fighting alongside the 27th division. The 27th division. Every man, woman, and child in China had heard of them- the ultimate fighting force; quick, strong, and supremely loyal to their leader. Nothing was capable of distracting them from their mission, and today it had been to finish the job that my division had started.

On May 23, all we had were some soldiers and a few trucks. Today, we had rifles, tanks and enough manpower to disassemble the Great Wall. I was nervous because our leaders had hinted that the demonstrators at Tian An Men Square were armed and were prepared to become violent in their demands. But, as I found out, no ill will was harbored towards anyone in the PLA, and even when a carrier was set on fire, people helped the soldiers away from the flames.

It is true, I suppose, that when a man is in the middle of an angry mob, he himself turns violent. Though no one tried to attack us, I found myself shooting along with the other soldiers. I was caught up in the moment- stopping the counter-revolutionaries, fighting beside the most feared fighting force in China, and the dire consequences of not shooting all whirled round in my head that night.

After the fighting had died down, the formations of the 27th division drifted apart as the individual soldiers struck out on their own. I found the feeling of euphoria from overcoming the demonstrators fading into one of horror. Bodies lay piled around the square like so many rag dolls, the wounded and dying side by side with the dead. Red dominated the scene, from the eerie firelight to the scarlet pools. Every so often, gunshots would ring out in the night coupled with terrified screams.

Flash.

"Are you insane? What are you doing? Stop the shooting!" cried a man as he jumped from the crowd into the path of the soldiers as though to stop them single-handedly.

"Get him, Mai," one of the soldiers said to me. I reacted before I thought. Swinging my AK 47 around, I shot the man.

Flash.

That man, whoever he was, may have been the first casualty because of me, but he wasn't the last. How many other people had fallen to my misplaced efforts? How many other people had to die because of the PLA's rage?

Before, I had looked upon the protestors with growing scorn, but for the first time I think that I really saw them. Looking into the faces of the people in the square filled me with shame. These were the faces of friends and family, the faces of people that I had known for most of my life. Many of them were college students- children, really. They weren't that much older than Enling-

My god. Enling.

Flash.

"Father, I think that my friend is still in the square," Enling had said late the day before. "Please, I need to go to her and convince her to leave."

"No, Enling," I said sharply. "No daughter of mine is going near that place. It's too dangerous at Tian An Men Square."

"Just to make sure that she's alright! You know that there have been hunger strikes-"

"If she chooses to associate with the counter-revolutionaries, then she chooses to accept the consequences," I said.

Enling had started to protest, but stopped herself. A grim determination lit up her eyes. I had the feeling that she wouldn't listen to me.

Flash.

And what if she hadn't? What if Enling had been in the square when the fighting started? What if she was still in the square? What if she was hurt? Frantically, I began to shout for my daughter, though I doubted that she would have been able to hear me over the chaos. Searching through the countless bodies, I began to lose hope that I be able to find my daughter.

"Father," I heard a weak voice call out. Turning, I recognized the form that was lying off to one side alone. It was Enling. I went to her and knelt down, taking her in my arms. She had been shot in the chest, and it was a miracle that she was still breathing.

"Why?" she asked. "We weren't doing anything wrong." There was no bitterness, no hate in her voice, just sadness and confusion. "No one was armed. We only wanted a change."

"I know," I said. "Don't talk, Enling. We'll get you to a doctor." Enling shook her head.

"It's too late for me," she said simply.

"No! Don't say that!" I cried.

"Father, listen to me. There's nothing more you can do. I saw a foreign journalist here earlier- if we're lucky, he'll be able to get out of the country safely." She coughed, and her voice grew weaker. "The world must know about what happened here tonight." Enling was quiet for a while, and, not knowing what else to do, I held her tighter.

"I'm sorry, my kind spirit," I said.

"Don't be," she said. "The government lied- to you, to me, to everyone in China. And, when the time comes, they will lie to the rest of the world."

"Is there anything you would have me do?" I asked her softly.

"Stay with me," she said.

I lay her head down gently and held her hand for a long time. Tears coursed down my cheeks. A light breeze wafted over the square as I felt Enling's hand go limp. For a moment, I thought that I saw an angel coming to take her away, but no- it was only a cherry blossom carried by the wind.