Me and my family were on a trip. Not sure where exactly, but it felt far it was somewhere warm and green, with a calm that made everything slow down. We ended up in a traditional village, the kind with huts and dirt paths, and soft voices in the wind. That's where I met her. A Chinese girl, young but serious, kind eyes and a quiet strength. She told me she was going to compete in the Olympics. I didn't even ask what sport. I just said, "I'll come see you." I made a promise and wasn't going to break it.
We stayed in her village for a while, she treated me like one of her own. Not just like I was some outsider. I told some of my friends to come too. Somehow they made it. When they arrived, something strange happened—everyone paired off. Like they had someone. A duo. And me? I didn't.
So I went off on my own. Just walking, wandering. Didn't feel sad, just... separate. A little outside of it all. Then I saw them—a little boy and his sister, playing too close to the water. Things moved fast. They fell under, and the current pulled. No one else was around.
I jumped in.
I don't even remember thinking. Just the cold, the weight of their little arms clinging to me, and the moment we broke the surface again. I pulled them to the shore, coughing, shaking. But they were alive.
I looked around—no one had seen it happen, but I didn't do it for praise or as an act of heroism. It was how I lost my sister I wasn't so lucky that time. It was just me, and the water, and the kids. They looked at me like I was a ghost or a hero, maybe both. I didn't say anything. Just stood up, wiped the mud from my hands, and kept walking.