From the early days of his childhood, Ryan grew accustomed to the sound of gunfire and the smell of smoke; they were as familiar to him as his own breath. He would always remember those evenings when he had been beaten and sent to his room, where he would hide under the covers and listen intently to the drones flying overhead. The sound wasn’t loud, but Ryan knew to listen closely. Sometimes, they would fly so close past his window that he secretly hoped they would attack their building. It didn’t matter whether it was intentional or accidental; as long as they got what they deserved.
For Ryan, anything was better than enduring another day of strict religious discipline at the hands of his father. James Lee, a stern and devout man, stemmed from a family of early Chinese immigrants to Malaysia. Generation after generation, the Lee family believed in the power of strict adherence to faith and order. Daily beatings were a part of Ryan’s life, justified as necessary for his spiritual and moral development.
His mother, while gentler, was powerless against the rigid structure imposed by his father. In this environment, Ryan learned to find solace in small acts of defiance, in whispered prayers of his own making, and in the fleeting moments of peace he could steal. Yet, every act of defiance resulted in harsh consequences. Twice, he had managed to escape the family home, but even in a country of one hundred fifty million people, he could not disappear. Twice, he had ended up in the hospital after being discovered.
His younger sister, Emily, had been a gentle soul and suffered the beatings and scolding in silence, always willing to stick her neck out for her older brother. Despite the hardships, she maintained a hopeful and resilient spirit, being Ryan’s light in those dark times. On his fifteenth birthday, Emily had a special gift for Ryan—an old copy of The Little Prince. How she had been able to obtain it, he did not know. But it was her way of giving him an escape from their harsh reality. They would read together, huddled under a thin blanket, the stories transporting them to a world far removed from their own. “You’re just like the little prince,” Emily had said with a reassuring smile, “and you will have great adventures in your life, I’m sure of it.”
Evening after evening, they had to listen to their father complaining about how the Lee family had fled China for the sake of the children, how ungrateful Ryan was, and how he would yet have to learn respect. Although themself ethnically Chinese, night after night, their father sang choruses of praise toward the United States and how they would show China its place. The US can’t be so great if Father supports it, Ryan thought.
They did not know how or why the war had started, but it nonetheless offered Ryan some sort of hope. Hope that something would change after fifteen years. What he didn’t know at that time was that the war was the culmination of years of escalating tensions between the world’s superpowers. For decades, the US and China had been locked in a strategic rivalry, each vying for global dominance. This Cold War had been upheld for years, with each side amassing allies and influence in a high-stakes geopolitical chess game, until they were just called the “Western” and “Eastern Bloc”.
The tipping point came when a series of economic sanctions and retaliatory measures spiraled out of control. Nobody remembered who had taken the first step, nor did it matter afterward. Trade wars led to economic instability, and both nations began to fortify their military presence in strategic regions. The South China Sea became a flashpoint, with naval skirmishes and airspace violations over jointly claimed territories, pushing both sides closer to open conflict. The final straw was an incident involving the downing of a Chinese civilian airliner, an act both nations blamed on each other, leading to a rapid escalation of hostilities.
However, rather than clashing directly on their own territories, the US and China first turned their conflict outward, into the developing world. Countries like Malaysia became battlegrounds for proxy wars. Both superpowers funneled weapons, advisors, and funding to opposing factions within these countries, igniting brutal civil conflicts.
In Malaysia, ethnic and political tensions had simmered beneath the surface for years. The war had exacerbated these divisions, turning neighbors into enemies. China started to mobilize the local Chinese population, while the US supported Malaysia.
Cities were bombed, villages razed, and countless lives were lost in the crossfire. Ryan’s family, like many others, tried to survive amidst the chaos, seeking refuge wherever they could find it. His father, an avid supporter of the US, had tried to join the Western Bloc forces of Malaysia early on, but he was rejected due to his ethnicity.
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As the war raged on, supply chains around the world broke down, leading to widespread hunger and deprivation. The Lee family sat down around the TV and watched the news every evening. Wars were fought on multiple fronts—in the Middle East, Latin America, Africa, and Eastern Europe. The conflict’s reach was global, affecting every continent and leaving no corner of the world untouched. Ryan understood that there was a thin, almost invisible line connecting all the people with each other. If this network was to be disrupted at one location, it would lead to unforeseen consequences all around. Even in the First World, people experienced shortages and scarcity for the first time. The interconnectedness of the global economy meant that a disruption in one part of the world had cascading effects everywhere else.
The war had been raging for six months. Supermarkets ran out of basic supplies, and rationing became commonplace. Ryan and his sister were forced to beg on the streets for food, while their father took odd jobs with rich Chinese people in order to survive, spending his evenings in bars, coming home drunk and bewildered.
After one of his famous meltdowns, Ryan had fled into his room with Emily, locking his door. He knew that he was only postponing the inevitable. He spent the next hours praying something would change, when he suddenly heard a whooshing sound. And then chaos.
The explosion was sudden and merciless. In an instant, their ancient house collapsed, and Ryan was thrown into darkness.
When he regained consciousness, he found himself alone amidst the rubble. His parents were gone.
Desperately, he searched for Emily until he found her lifeless body beneath the debris. The grief was overwhelming, a hollow ache that consumed him entirely.
The days that followed were a blur of sorrow and confusion. But then, things happened fast. Ryan was found by a group of aid workers who, seeing his dire situation, arranged for him to be taken to a foster home.
The foster home was a place for children who, like Ryan, had lost everything. But instead of being a refuge, it became a new battleground. The Malaysian children, scarred by their own experiences of the war, were angry, hurt, and desperate for control in a world that had stripped them of their agency. To them, Ryan, the new Chinese kid, was an easy target, the new kid who embodied the vulnerability they all felt but could not express.
The abuse started almost immediately. The older children bullied him relentlessly, stealing his meager belongings, mocking his grief, and even physically attacking him when the caretakers weren’t looking. Ryan learned to navigate the foster home like a soldier in enemy territory, always on guard, always expecting the worst.
One evening, as Ryan sat in a corner, clutching the only possession he had managed to save—Emily’s tattered book, The Little Prince, he felt the sting of tears welling up. The book had been a gift from his beloved sister, a collection of stories that once provided an escape from the harsh realities of their lives. Now, it was a reminder of everything he had lost.
In the dim light of the dormitory, Ryan opened the book and began to read. The words were a balm to his wounded soul, transporting him to a world far removed from his own. For a few precious moments, he could forget the pain, the fear, and the loneliness. He could be a child again, if only in his imagination.
But the respite was short-lived. A group of Malaysian boys noticed him reading and decided to take the book from him.
“What do you think you’re doing, you fucking ch***?” one of them, Ahmad, sneered, grabbing the book from Ryan’s hands. “What the hell is a ch*** like you doing with a book?”
Ryan tried to hold on, but the boy was strong. The book was torn from his grasp and, with it, the last piece of his past.
The boys laughed as they tossed the book around, its pages fluttering like broken wings.
The humiliation and rage that Ryan had kept bottled up inside him for so long finally erupted. Fueled by a mix of grief and fury, he lunged at Ahmad.
The two boys fell to the floor, fists flying. Ryan fought with a ferocity he didn’t know he possessed. The others quickly backed away, shocked by the sudden violence.
Ryan’s fists landed with a force that sent Ahmad reeling. Each punch was driven by years of pent-up frustration and pain. Bloodied and bruised, Ahmad tried to defend himself, but Ryan’s rage was unstoppable. It took the intervention of several caretakers to pull Ryan off Ahmad. They dragged him away, kicking and screaming, his knuckles raw and bleeding, Ahmad was still lying on the floor, motionless.
That night, as he lay on his thin mattress, bruised and exhausted, Ryan made a silent vow. He would survive this, just as he had survived the war. He would endure the bullying, the loneliness, and the constant fear. He would keep the stories alive in his heart, where no one could take them from him. And someday, somehow, he would find a way to escape this new prison and build a life worthy of his potential.
But more than that, Ryan swore to himself that he would dedicate his life to ensuring that no child would ever have to endure what he had. Even if it meant taking drastic measures, as he did with Ahmad, he would work tirelessly for world peace, no matter the cost. He was the little prince, after all.