I stood on the roof, holding my arms in the cold wind, looking at the blue sky cloud and walking out of a mental disorder.
There was a circle downstairs, including my dad and my mom.
My mother was so angry, she reached out and said, “Get down! I have something to do! You’re gonna jump! It’s embarrassing to jump off a building without guts! I’m sorry.
And the more she scolded, she said, “What is so stupid about you? Do you think it will work? When you took your medicine, you forgot.” I’m sorry.
I don’t have to look at her face. It’s like I left her alone.
But who said I was gonna jump? I’m just trying to stand up a little bit higher and closer to the sky.
One.
My mom said I wanted to win? Oh, but everything I do is because she wants to.
Did she forget?
Oh, yeah, she forgot.
She has a new man now.
Don’t need me anymore. I’m worthless.
My dad spoke more than my mom and let me down.
He said only, Dad loves you, you come down.
But he turned his head over the eyes of his illegitimate daughter: “Do not scare your sister, she is still young.” I’m sorry.
The little girl’s lips rose upwards with a scorn.
She always despised me.
I can’t help it, I can’t help it, I can’t help it.
I’m suffocating. I don’t know how I got to this point.
It’s my name, it’s my dad.
When I was born, he held me with his heart and said that he would never have another child again and that I was his only. He doesn’t want to give love to other children.
But then he went home with his new sister and her mother.
And he looked me in the eye and said, “Only my sister is a father’s child, who loves her, and cannot allow her to take the title of illegitimate daughter. I’m sorry.
So Mom and I got kicked out.
My mother fought, pleaded, but it didn’t work. My father loved his new daughter so much, that even she was happy.
He gave her a name for hope and hope.
He said he wouldn’t want me. I’m still his little princess.
He told my mother that he was just trying to give his sister a name, that he was still my mother, and that my mother would come back to the house one day.
But he soon forgot about us.
The new daughter had to go to the park for a long walk with milk for diapers.
It would have been good for him to visit once a week and then become half a month, one month and three months later.
Remembering that I had hoped for my father to show up and listen to every lie he had about working overtime for a meeting, I still feel ridiculous.
How can a grown-up fool a child so many times?
If he told the truth, I wouldn’t have any hope, I would have been much better, my mother would have been much better, at least not as far as I’m concerned.
I sighs and I keep looking at the sky.
I don’t know how far from heaven it is.
How far is it from my heart?
I thought he looked at the sky.
And a cloud as if it had been made on purpose, and it came forth insolently, over my head, blocking my sight.
As if my mother had taken me away.
After my mother’s divorce, my mother madly cursed Xiao San, forcing me to admit dozens of times a day that she was not good-looking, at least not when she was young.
She’s always in love with beauty. She doesn’t wash her face for days.
The neighbor’s grandma couldn’t see it, told me she’d die if she went on like this.
I was scared.
I can’t see Dad anymore. I can’t lose Mom.
I’ve been thinking about it for a few nights, and I’ve been learning to buy food, cook and wash with my neighbor’s grandmother.
My shoulder is still young, but I want to protect my mother.
I’m sure my mom can cheer up and be happy if I know something.
But my mom was just drinking and couldn’t see the laundry in the room where I cooked and picked up the flowers.
It’s true that there’s a clean environment that makes you happy.
But why is my mother so unhappy?
She used to hold a bottle late at night, crying to the air, saying that when I was with you, your dad was busy starting a business, and you didn’t know he was a dad until you were three.
But when the fox’s daughter was born, he was rich and had time to be with him.
Look what he did with the kid.
You and her are daughters, but they’re different.
My mother lamented him for being new, a bowl of water, a conscience, a human being.
I saw her sad, I felt sad.
I ran to hold her and put my head on her leg, like when I was a child: “Mother, I will always love you.” I’m sorry.
But Mom pushed my head off.
She looked at me and said, “Why don’t you ask your father for my divorce? That fox boy’s gonna cheer him up. Why don’t you just help me out? I’m sorry.
I stopped.
I’m introverted. My mom knew it. She said I was an insider.
But now she bites, “Why don’t you be smart? If you kill yourself, your father won’t get a divorce! I’m sorry.
I put my head down and my fingers choked.
Fingertips are numbing.
It’s my fault Mom got divorced.
Two.
After the divorce, my mom stopped sending me to school.
I’m taking my own bus home.
I was at the table asking why I was taking the bus, and I looked her in the eye and told her about my family.
I said I was scared and helpless.
I thought I’d come home in my car before the table and at least care about me.
But I was wrong, and I didn’t know that even in a child’s world, there was the weak and the weak.
It’s the instinct of being carved in a bone, naive and cruel.
After school that day, the table refused to wait with me for a bus and got in the car of a girl I had an affair with.
The next day, as soon as I got to the class, the girl and her girlfriend looked at me and looked at me funny.
I was wondering if the table knew what they were doing.
The same table had a red face, looked down at the book, and said something vague.
The girl suddenly stood up and asked me, “I heard you and your mother kicked your dad out. I’m sorry.
Her smile was exciting and cruel, like a cat grinding a rat: “My mother said your family is rich and your father’s looking for someone. I’m sorry.
“Your mother is an alcoholic.” I heard that a drunk woman is not serious.
I looked at the table and suddenly my heart got cold.
“What is my mother?” I’m sorry.
She smiled and wondered, but I came to her and threw my hand at her, “What is my mother?” I’m sorry.
She shouted out in her face, and several people threw me down and called me a mad dog.
I lay on the floor, but it didn’t hurt.
I just keep looking at my table.
Look at her shaking hands and low head.
She can’t even look at me.
I can’t help but feel the question: why is this human thing so good?
Why is it so easy?
3
The teacher knew about the fight and me and the girl were called parents.
When my mom came in, I felt sorry for her.
But I didn’t cry. I was afraid my mom was upset and she was having a hard time.
But my mom looked right at me, rounded my arm, slapped me in the face.
I’ve been blindfolded, the teacher, even the girl and her parents.
My mom said to me, “You told people I was dumped and kicked out of the house, and nobody wanted it, right? I’m sorry.
She was staring at me, “What good is it to you to lose my face?” I’m sorry.
I’ve been holding on to my face, and everyone’s stupid.
That girl’s laughing.
My face hurts more.
When they beat me up, I didn’t shed a tear.
But my mother’s slaps hurt so much I cried.
I held my hand in a fist, my heart was strangled, but I didn’t notice.
All of a sudden, one hand came out of nowhere, broke my fist, put a lollipop in my cold hands. It’s warm.
I looked back and found a boy lying on the back of the desk.
He’s lying behind the High School case, and he can’t see without looking at it.
When I looked back, he sat up, and the whole man was so beautiful and white.
He pointed at the lollipop and said to me, “Sweet, delicious.” I’m sorry.
He smiled so loud that I forgot what I felt.
My teacher woke up from shock and told my mother to go home.
After my mom left, the teacher was suffocating, with sympathy, so I could learn not to be affected.
She said only good learning was my only way out.
I Noded out of my office, thought about the lollipop, and I couldn’t wait to try it.
I haven’t had snacks in a long time since my parents divorced.
Lollipop is sweet.
I couldn’t help but look back and see the boy come out and laugh at me.
The sun shines on him and looks warm.
He said he called Fang Viet, he was my teacher’s child and occasionally followed him to school.
I looked down, and I remembered his name.
Fang Viet, what a nice name.
I think his mom and dad must be so good that he can smile so warm.
I thought about going back to class and finding myself isolated.
Some of the girls I was fighting with had boyfriends outside school, had a bad time, were in class.
Nobody wants to offend them.
It’s painful to be isolated, and I feel like I’m the wrong monkey, every smile around me, every look in my eyes, and I feel like I’m involved and I’m scared and I’m wearing thin ice.
I told my mom I wanted to take leave.
But my mom wouldn’t let me.
Because after my fight, my mom called my dad.
My father didn’t want me to be bad, to talk to my mother for a long time, to think about my own cheating, to beg my mother for help, to teach me.
My mom got chicken blood on this phone and looked at me with some kind of crazy hope.
She doesn’t drink, she doesn’t smoke, she starts preparing, she has to teach me how to do it.
I’m not as good as my dad on a phone. Isn’t that magic?
My mother asked me, “You still love your mother? I’m sorry.
I looked up at her, feeling a little sad, but I didn’t hesitate to say “love.” I’m sorry.
I really love her.
There are only two kinds of purest love in the world: children love their mothers and dogs love their masters.
More than anything else in love.
Whatever my mom did, I didn’t want to leave her.
It’s uncontrollable nature.
My mother laughed, “Then you’ll be mother’s right arm.” Together, we will defeat that fox and her little fox! I’m sorry.
She was happy to give me a job: “From now on, you’re going to be in the first five years. Yes, I’m going to give you the piano dance arts tennis lessons, and you’re going to learn a name, except that Mom’s hope is on you!” I’m sorry.
I felt bored and blunt, but noded.
As long as Mom doesn’t drink or smoke, it’s nothing for me.
But I’ve always had a middle grade and no talent, just an ordinary person.
Let me out of the blue.
Even my mom got in trouble.
She touched me for a few days, and she was in pain, and she got a whip.
I’ve missed a point, hit.
I don’t have a lesson.
I can’t do that.
No piano, no dancing, no fighting.
It’s not good.
I can’t hit tennis, play.
I made her a daughter for over a decade, and for the first time I knew my mom was so strong.
I had to sleep on my back and get swollen.
But the more I was beaten, the lower my grades, the faster I fell.
My mom couldn’t say disappointed.
She started drinking again.
My dad shows his little girl in a circle of friends, says she’ll call her dad.
He said that his sister had called earlier than her sister for over a year.
But my dad forgot that he came home early and late when I was a kid. I didn’t know Dad was a species until I was three.
My mom forgot.
She looked at my phone and looked at me, and asked me, “Are you the enemy of my last life?” Why can’t anything help me? I’m sorry.
She cried, saying, “Mother’s the only one who gave you this life. Can you help her? I’m sorry.
She cried so hard.
I nod my head: Yes. I’m sorry.
I don’t care.
From that day on, I only let myself sleep three hours a day.
I’ve seen this city every three o’clock in the morning.
I challenged the limits of IQ, forced the brain to spin, and every late night I suspected my heart was going to explode.
Finally, I climbed from middle grade to 100, 50, 30, and then to 10.
I couldn’t believe it.
I snuck out of the classroom, went down to the playground and cried with my own hands.
I cried so much that I broke the pelvis in my throat that I sprayed blood in my mouth.
But I didn’t bring a tissue, I had to wipe my hand and see the blood on my hand.
Fortunately, I had a long body, crouched down in front of me, handed me a wet towel and gave me a lollipop.
I look up, it’s Fang Viet.
He laughed, “This is sweet, sweet in the heart.” I’m sorry.
I’ve had lollipops in my red face. It smells like milk.
He looked at me with his cheeks, he looked at me, he was focused, and he shot me in the head: “I’ll come when I want to, I’ll be in my mom’s office.” I’m sorry.
I wonder, “Do you not go to school?” I’m sorry.
And he looked, and long crows covered him, and lifted him up again, and lit him up: “I am so smart that I do not need to go to school.” I’m sorry.
I had his eyes shaking.
I’ve never seen such beautiful eyes.
As if there were good and hope.
The sun shines across his face and looks warm.
When I looked at him, he stood up and waved at me, and said, “I want to have some sugar. I’m sorry.
I stayed up a little bit, watched his long back go away and suddenly felt less cold.
4
My mom’s happy.
She gave me a nice dress and sent me out: “Go to your father and show him your scroll.” I’m sorry.
I missed my dad, too.
I went to see my dad, and when I came in, my dad was holding his little girl around.
His shoulder was also covered with a small turban of milking one side, which looked rather funny than the former elite.
And sweet.
I’ve never seen him like this before.
And my father asked me, “How is it to come here today?” I’m sorry.
I pulled the papers out of the bag: “Mom asked me to show you the grades, I took the first 10 grades. I’m sorry.
My father’s eyes were lit, he gave his sister to his stepmother, he spread out my scrolls, he looked happy, he smiled and he wanted to tell me something, and she suddenly cried.
It’s like being strangled.
My dad looked at my mom, he was embarrassed, he took her back in his arms, and he took me a stack of money. But I can’t keep you for dinner. I’m sorry.
I’ve got that stack of notes, and I’m confused.
I’ve been here less than 10 minutes. My dad drove me home.
My sister-in-law was down there laughing. It’s cold and cold.
My self-esteem is crushed by this laughter.
I left the money and left and ran all the way home.
When I came into the house, I was panting, and my mom looked down at my watch, “Didn’t I let you eat?” Can’t you eat?”
I told her I was driven out of my father’s house, and my mother got mad and threw cold rice on the table: “What would he do to you if you were smart?” I’m sorry.
I was bowing down with a little cold rice, and I said nothing.
My mother went on to say, “You’ll be smart in a few days, you’ll have to eat one meal a day, or you’ll be too fat. I’m sorry.
The White Cloud Dancers, she said, were the strongest amateur dancers in the city and often competed for prizes.
My dad’s friend’s daughter took the exam, and my dad’s jealous for a long time.
My mom made me have to take it.
I noded my head, went back to my bedroom, sat in front of the window and looked out at the lights.
The other lights are warm and yellow.
I couldn’t help but notice.
In the next few days, I had a breakfast every day, dazzled, biting my teeth to make it through to the exams.
My dad really cares about this reputation. It’s rare to go to the exam with my mom.
My mom cheered me up, “You’re the only one who got the test and we’ll win the next one!” I’m sorry.
I nodded my head at her, and I could look black in the eye.
He sweated cold and his hands and back were wet.
My ears were ringing, my legs were shaking and I fell.
I heard my mother scream, and there was anger.
But I really don’t have the strength.
I’m tired of closing my eyes.
It’s good to be in the dark.
Safe and warm.
5
I woke up in the hospital.
The doctor says I’m a low blood sugar killer. It’s dangerous to deliver it later.
My mom looked out the window and said, “The ballroom is yellow. I’m sorry.
I’m quiet.
I really tried.
The exam is fine.
But I didn’t want my mother to be unhappy, and I said, “Mom, isn’t there a drawing competition in a few days? I’m sorry.
My dad loved art, my stepmother was a painter, and I heard my dad was particularly fond of taking her to the bar and telling everyone he married an artist.
I think my dad would have looked at me more if I had won the painting competition.
My mother was happy again. Get ready, you can’t lose your chain this time! I’m sorry.
I nod my head, I pray God give me some luck and don’t let me fail.
I really don’t want to see my mom angry.
Maybe God heard my prayers. I actually won a gold medal in that game.
The judges say my children’s love for their mother is complicated.
It’s so sweet and desperate, and it’s a fantasy.
My mom dressed me up again and let me show my dad.
But I really don’t want to go.
But I can’t say I’m not going. My mom won’t understand.
So I went to my dad again with my skin.
My late mother brought me a glass of water when my father was gone: “I hope my father will come back later, you wait. I’m sorry.
After she called in the bedroom, she used her and my dad’s voice: “Don’t worry about us, they’re just two dead dogs. I’ll just watch the circus. I’m sorry.
She said, “If a mother has no face, the child has no face and knows that she is not to be seen, he has to go to shame. Isn’t that embarrassing?”
I can’t listen.
She can sarcasm me, but she can’t say my mother.
I stood up and interrupted her: “Please, Auntie, are you talking about me and my mother? I’m sorry.
My sister-in-law hung up on the phone and looked at me and said, “Whoop-up is whoop-up.” I’m sorry.
I held my hands silently.
When she first met me, she cried and said that she only loved my dad too much and that she didn’t mean to break up my family.
Now she says me and my mom are dead dogs.
I didn’t hesitate to go towards her.
When the bell rings, the forehead is bruised.
She screamed and jumped out of bed on her forehead and came at me.
But when she looked behind me, she cried: “I only knew you hated me, but I fell in love with the right person at the wrong time!” Don’t embarrass me.”
I didn’t know at first why she changed her face.
But soon, I heard a lot of door-breaks and footsteps behind me — my dad opened the door somehow.
He walked up to me and stood in front of his mother: “What have you come for me?” What are you doing to their mother and daughter? I’m sorry.
It’s like I’m a minor. She’s taller than me.
My dad pointed at the door, “Get out of here! Don’t come back! I’m sorry.
I opened my mouth to explain, and he’s already looking forward to it: “Are the baby scared?” I’m sorry.
I remember when he said it was my home too.
But I remember too well, and he always said forget.
I turned around and walked out.
I didn’t explain anything.
My mother was angry when she came home to open the door: “Why are you back so soon?” I’m sorry.
I looked at my mom and I tried so hard to crush my heart.
The words “retired dog” are too harsh. I don’t want my mom to hear that.
I bowed my head: “My dad said he ate it outside. I’m sorry.
My mother was mad at me, “Then you’re back.” You don’t talk until you eat? You’re stupid. Do we have a day to go back? I’m sorry.
She threw me out of the door: “Go back and stay with your father and don’t come back until you’re happy with him today!” I’m sorry.
There’s a wind outside. It’s cold.
I seem to have two homes, but I have nowhere to go.
I wandered around the streets without a destination, and I walked by the school and found a safe place to sit down.
It’s been so cold these years.
It gets colder every day.
I went to the convenience store to get a beer.
They say it warms up, it heals.
I want to try.
But I just opened up, and a long hand took the can from me and stuffed me with a lollipop.
I looked up, and I stood in the streetlights, and I put my hands in my pocket, and I looked down and I laughed, “It’s better to eat sugar than drink.” I’m sorry.
He just shoved lollipops in my mouth, “Was it sweet?” I’m sorry.
I nod my head: “Sweet.” I’m sorry.
He laughed, “I threw it at you. I’m sorry.
He threw that beer in the trash.
I’m blushing. I don’t know how to explain it, but I’m in a mess right now.
Fortunately, the less curious, the more you don’t ask, the more you take your cell phone and call the car: “It’s too late to take you home.” I’m sorry.
Fong sent me to my neighborhood and watched me go in.
He called me by my name behind me: “Lowie.” I’m sorry.
And I turned around and he looked at me and he laughed, “No more drinking.” I’m sorry.
“I’m in a bad mood to come and eat you sugar. I’m sorry.
My eyes are a little sour, red nod.
Six.
When I got home, my mom suddenly got better.
She said, “Your dad called me, said he kicked you out, and now he thinks he’s too hard on you to make it up to you.
Your father asked someone to call the leader of the troupe. They can give you another chance. You can take another exam next week! I’m sorry.
I watched my mom jump and suddenly I didn’t want to talk. I don’t want to say anything.
No strength.
A week later, I went to the prom again.
My mother was more well dressed, wearing white skirts, black hair and straight hair and light makeup.
“Your father can still be soft on you. We have a big win. This opportunity must not be wasted.” I’m sorry.
When my father fell in love with my mother at first sight, my mother was a white long skirt.
Now my mother was wearing her robe, looking out for me.
After a while, my dad’s car came, my mom looked up, and her hair stood up.
But the door opened and my stepmother and kid got off with my dad.
My father had a wish: “I wanted to see my sister dance, and I brought her to play.” I’m sorry.
My stepmom was wearing a white long skirt, black and straight, and politely greeted my mom.
She’s young, slender, much better looking than my mom in a white dress.
My mom didn’t say a word and her shoulder just fell down. Eyes dim.
Hope called her Aunty.
She’s already in kindergarten, she’s pretty, she’s totally with Mom, she’s nothing like my dad.
Especially the nose.
It’s been a few flat noses for generations, but I hope I’ve broken the gene and grown a tall nose.
Very Su-mi.
She really doesn’t like me.
I’ve always had to turn my eyes upside down and yell at me, “Wow! I’m sorry.
I didn’t take it seriously, and my mom got angry.
She asked me to come over: “The little one called us dogs. Go on, take the little one away, take him away, lose him.” I’m sorry.
I couldn’t believe it. I’m sorry.
My mother stares hard at the son: “You say you’re gone, and who can find out?” I’m sorry.
I’m bloody cold: “I don’t.” I’m sorry.
My mother pushed me so mad, “It’s useless to be mad at you, not even a fork! I’m sorry.
I don’t talk.
It’s getting colder this year.
I couldn’t sleep when I went back that night. Insomnia till 3:00 in the morning, disgusting.
It’s like there’s bugs in my veins, all over my body with blood.
I had to cut my mouth open and let the blood out in order not to be disgusting.
I made the devil find a knife and cut a few mouths on his arm.
The cold blades and stings gave me a breath of relief and relief.
I can finally fall asleep.
The next day, I went to school with my arms in my arms, not to anyone.
But the more you call me up in the office building after school, you put me in a lollipop.
I accidentally showed my arm with lollipop.
“Why?” I’m sorry.
“I feel bad.” I’m sorry.
And the more he exclaimed, he stretched out his hand on my back, like a young child, patiently and gentlely: “What is it?
He was so gentle, he made me feel like I was back when I was a child and someone loved me.
My heart opened slowly.
It’s like a stray puppy, and the people in front of him won’t kick it, and they won’t scare it.
“No one loves me.” My dad doesn’t love it, my mom doesn’t love it, I’m alone, I don’t know why I’m alive. I’m sorry.
Fang’s hands are tied up.
After a while, it was as if he had made a decision: “If only you could accept that I would leave at any time, let me love you.” I’m sorry.
And he said, “So you will not be alone, and someone will love you.” I’m sorry.
I was shocked by this unexpected surprise.
It’s so tempting that someone can love me.
But he said to leave.
I hesitated to ask him, “Where are you going? I’m sorry.
“I’m going to school in a country far away. I’m sorry.
And he asked: “Shall I love you and help you through this?” I’m sorry.
I swallowed saliva, I got the courage to say a good word.
Finally someone loves me.
I hope he doesn’t fall in love with someone else.
7
When I came home, my mom looked at me a little guilty and made a good table. It’s all I love.
I’m a little moved, but I’m still working hard, though it doesn’t taste like before.
My mom kept watching me eat, didn’t move chopsticks, and asked me sometimes if I was good.
I have a little sparrow in my heart.
Did my mom love me again?
I’m going home to finish my dinner and write my homework, and it says I’m asleep.
I woke up and I wasn’t home.
I fainted and washed my stomach in a cold room.
“You’re so small and you don’t want to live?” I’m sorry.
Deep in my heart, I have a great fear.
But I didn’t figure out what I was afraid of.
I’ll be unconscious again soon.
Wake up again, I’m lying in bed.
My father lamented at my mother: “I was wrong, I hurt you, and caused the evil of today.” I’m sorry.
My mother watched him cry, “Can’t we just start over?” Look at this! I’m sorry.
My father hesitated: “Let me think about it, let me think about it. I’m sorry.
My mom tried to convince him. My dad’s phone was ringing.
As soon as my dad picks up, there’s a sharp cry over there.
My sister-in-law screamed, “I hope I can’t get up and cry to my father!” It could’ve hit your head! I’m sorry.
My father put a stack of money in my mother’s hand, and ran away in haste: “I’ve left before, and you’ll buy only something good, and you will spare no effort to heal her.” I’m sorry.
It’s over.
My mom looked at my dad’s back and looked a little pale.
I coughed and called her attention.
I need an explanation.
My mother turned her face back and looked at me like a dead eye: “It was I who gave you the medicine. I’m sorry.
She said, “No one will die, no more.” I’m sorry.
“Your father won’t turn back.” Let’s give it up. I’m sorry.
I closed my eyes.
I gave up.
When I got out of the hospital, my mom stopped making me flatter my dad and set me free for a while.
I’ve been hanging out with Fang all day, and I’ll go play with him when I can.
Fong has always made me carry books and questions, as if the teacher had taken me to the park, and even if I had taken me to the park, I had to blow the air to hear the birds and do the questions at the stone table.
He said, “You are the only one who learns and goes to college, and your suffering is only for a moment.”
But if you are trapped in misery, and the time is lost, then your suffering will be a lifetime.
I made a set of questions and he gave me a lollipop, sweet.
Sometimes he looks at me complex and whispers: “God loves jokes, why bring you here at this time? I’m sorry.
I was staring at him and I had no time to think about what he was saying.
♪ And the flowers shake, the birds scream, I’m making a joke ♪
For a short time, it’s fine.
Until a few months later, my mother brought a man back: “Uncle Cheung, Mama’s boyfriend.” I’m sorry.
Uncle Cheung looks a little like Dad, but his eyes are sticky.
My mom likes him. Leave him with us.
At first, everything was fine, but one night I went to the toilet and found out that there was no paper, and I opened the door and I found Uncle Chang eavesdropping.
I almost threw up. I couldn’t sleep.
The next day I went to talk to my mom about this.
I thought my mom would be angry.
But my mother was just wrinkled: “He told me, it was a misunderstanding, he thought the toilet was empty and was going in. I’m sorry.
I don’t agree. It’s clearly not a misunderstanding.
But my mother was impatient: “What can a child know? I’m sorry.
I opened my mouth and looked at the way my mother was hiding, and I didn’t say anything.
Since then, I’ve been locked in the bedroom at night, at home without eating or drinking water, so I can’t go to the toilet.
Sometimes I can’t help it, and I’m in a bottle and I fall in the morning.
It makes the room smell so bad.
I fell asleep in that smell, from disgusting to vomiting to getting used to it.
When I can’t sleep, I always think that there are people on the Internet who say that there are all kinds of parents who don’t want to see and who don’t believe that there’s a bloodbath between parents and children who don’t see smoke.
Those people must be happy, so there must be nothing left to imagine.
On my birthday, my mother and Uncle Cheung went out to dinner and watch the show.
My dad’s friend circle says he’s taking him to dance class.
I made my own bowl to celebrate my birthday.
“I’m downstairs.” I’m sorry.
I jumped up and ran to the balcony, and the more I stood downstairs, with the cake in my hand, with the pyrotechnic stick, I cried to me, “Come down. I’m sorry.
“How do you know my birthday?” I’m sorry.
The more he lit the candle, the more he smiled, and said, “Look at my mother’s birthday schedule.” I’m sorry.
He pointed to the candle light: “Take a wish.” I’m sorry.
His voice is soft, so bright in the sky, so quiet in the world, and only the sound of the “single” that burns with the fireworks sticks is accompanied by the colourful little fireworks.
And the sweet milk of cake.
It made me happy to cry.
I dry my tears and blow out the candles and make a wish. Be serious. I hope God hears it.
I can’t wait to tell the party, “I just wished we’d be together forever!” I’m sorry.
Fong-hwan’s hands were put in place and a piece of cream was scratched on my nostrils: “It won’t work. I’m sorry.
I’m not happy: “How can I not work?” I’m sorry.
The more he didn’t answer, the more he put a piece of cake in my mouth.
So sweet.
After a few days, I was off.
The more Fong comes to me, takes me to the sun, goes shopping, goes to his house to see movies, brushes.
He’s a teacher’s child, always keeping track of my grades and feeling like he’s in a hurry.
I’m happy around him, and I’m always jumping, and the more I look at him, the more I look at him, the more I look at him, the more I look at him.
I’m worried about that.
The more thinner he gets, the whiter his skin, the less he seems to speak.
I don’t know what I’m afraid of, but I’m scared. I always have nightmares. I dream he’s waving at me.
I think people have a sixth sense. But I didn’t. I didn’t dare.
Fong is my most unbearable loss.
The more he sees me, the more he laughs at me: “Whatever you’re afraid of, you take the best university, you’re strong, and all the problems are solved.” I’m sorry.
I focused on nodding.
The only thing I can control right now is my grades.
I began to go mad, to learn not to die, to learn with the power of burning life.
I’d like to take the best medical school, to be the best doctor, to keep the house safe.
Protect my whole world.
I told Fang that I was going to be a doctor and that I’d be helping him.
Fong’s waking up. Look at me laugh.
And he nodded his head and lamented: “But then we pull a hook, you be a doctor, and I’m going out.” I’m sorry.
“Where are you going? I’m sorry.
“I told you, I’m going to college abroad.” I’m sorry.
I couldn’t accept it for a moment. Tears fell out.
“We will meet one day.” I’m sorry.
He said, “Only, I’ll keep looking at you and waiting for you. I’m sorry.
8
Fong’s getting out.
I don’t sleep, and I’m locked in my bedroom every day, and I just study and I just go to bed.
One night, in my sleep, it seemed like someone was twisting the doorknob.
I’m creepy, I’m glad, I keep locking the door.
That night, Uncle Zhang and my mother went out for dinner and I heard them come back before sleeping, and my mother was drunk and dragged into bed.
Now he’s madly screwing my door.
And he said, ‘Only your mother is drunk, come out and take care of her!’ I’m sorry.
I’m not saying a word. Go touch under my pillow.
Uncle Chang started hitting the door. The wine sewd through the door, swirled and invaded.
I touched the knife under my pillow.
It’s been so long since my fear reached its peak.
Human fear becomes anger when it reaches its peak.
I suddenly thought I’d die.
I jumped out of the bed, barefooted on the cold floor, pulled the door open, and the artist knife slammed out.
Uncle Zhang jumped to the side to avoid it.
I took out my phone and I took a video to him, and I told him, “Didn’t I want to come in? You can do whatever you want tonight. But remember, I’ll kill you if you don’t kill me tonight. I’m sorry.
He’s quiet down. Just look at me and I’ll have the snowy sword.
After a while, he smiled: “Look at how angry you are. I’m sorry.
Say, turn around and walk back.
I watched him go in the house, locked the door to bed, shivering and shaking.
I’m fucking done.
The next day, I showed my mom a video.
I asked my mother, “It’s not a misunderstanding this time. I’m sorry.
My mom looked at the phone and her hands were shaking.
But after a while, she looked up at me: “Only, he drank too much.” I’m sorry.
“He wants you to take care of me, you’re thinking too much. I’m sorry.
She said, “Only I have my own suffering. I’m sorry.
“No, you can’t go with your dad. I’m sorry.
I kept my mouth shut and my head down.
Shit, it’s so cold this year.
I was dying in my heart, but I wanted to ask the last question for me, “Mother, do you remember that you loved me?” I’m sorry.
She didn’t talk. She avoided my eyes.
I was suffocating and suddenly I looked out the window and laughed.
When people lose their minds, they feel free and free.
I picked up the phone and called 110 and my mom jumped up and fell on my phone.
She screamed out of control: “Will you give me a chance to live?” You want me to die alone! I need to be loved! Understand?
I don’t understand.
I wonder, “Did I not love you enough?” You think he and my dad can love you more than I do? The one who loves you the most, right in front of you! I’m sorry.
And she cried out with her hair in a state of discomfort: “That is different, that is different, that is different. You do not understand.”
I don’t understand.
But I know one thing. My mom and I are done.
I think it’s getting bigger.
I called Fang.
I cried as soon as I reached out.
“What’s wrong with you?” I’m sorry.
His voice was so tired.
And We heard it wearied, and took it back, and said: I miss you. I’m sorry.
Fang said “Wait for me” and hung up.
After a while, he sent a video, standing in a green field, far from the white second floor.
His face covered with a golden light in the sun and whispered to me, “Don’t cry. If you miss me, sleep early at night, maybe I’ll go to your dreams.” I’m sorry.
I laughed, “You don’t have the power to dream. I’m sorry.
He laughed and didn’t answer. He started questioning my homework and checking my recent grades.
Half an hour of video, he checked me for over 20 minutes.
And finally, I’m relieved that I’m beginning to say, “You have to learn.”
I didn’t wait for him to finish, but I answered: “Only in a good college can I be strong enough to stay away from the helplessness and pain of the present, right? I’m sorry.
The Fong laughs, nods, says goodbye, and I’ll hang up the video.
When I said goodbye, he seemed to open his mouth and wanted to say nothing, but looked at me with tender affection.
After a few days, my mom and dad got in a fight.
She wants to send me to my dad.
She said, “You alone should be in charge for two days. I’ve been in charge for years. I’m sorry.
My father fought with her, “How can I explain this to her when she only comes?” I’m sorry.
My mother called him a manless man and a father.
My father was scolded with a sense of guilt: “Let’s not just come here to teach him to dance and paint, say she came back to raise her sister, so I can explain.” I’m sorry.
My mom yelled at the son of a bitch and fell off the phone.
I listened to the video through a door, sat on my knees in a dark bedroom, watching quietly the lights outside.
I remember a story that I saw when I was a kid, where I was talking about how I cut my bones and my father.
I envy him.
He’s got a real guy who can give his parents back all his flesh and blood.
And I didn’t.
After a while, my mom asked me out.
“Go to your father’s for the good of you and for me.” I’m sorry.
I nod my head.
I’m so jealous.
I wish I had a human being who could cut my bones once and for all.
I started packing.
And then the more they packed up, the more they wrote, “I’m back, come downstairs. I’m sorry.
I was surprised and surprised to run down the stairs.
Fong’s wearing white T, jeans, sneakers, handsome, smiling at me.
He’s thin again, and he’s thin enough for me to panic, “You’re thin again!” I’m sorry.
The more he laughs, he takes me to dinner, he doesn’t eat much, he just looks at me.
He’s slow, he looks steady, but I’m scared.
And he solemnly commanded me, “You have no choice but to enter a good university, and you must understand.” I’m sorry.
I noded my head like I swore, “I want to take the best medical school.” I’m gonna fix you up! I’m sorry.
My voice trembled: “O Fang Viet, wait for me, wait for me!”
The more he laughs, the more he talks, the more he opens the subject: “Only, you must be good, strong, you must be able to protect yourself. Do you hear me? I’m sorry.
My panic peaked at that moment.
Why didn’t he answer?
Why didn’t he say he was waiting for me!
Something I’ve been afraid of but I’m afraid to think about, like a monster, slowly surfaces deep inside.
I had a nightmare all night. I dreamed he said goodbye.
After a few days, the Fong sent me a delivery.
It’s a photo of him and a bank card.
And there’s a note that says, “Let me have a picture to monitor your studies, and don’t give up your efforts when anything happens.” Banker Kari has money I’ve had since I was a kid to give you an emergency. I’m sorry.
I looked at these two things, and suddenly my legs were soft, and I sat on the floor, and I cried.
The feariest thing in the world could happen.
Or has happened.
I can’t imagine how I can survive alone in this cold world.
I can work without money, but no love, no warmth.
I’m gonna do it.
9
After that day, Fong never called me again.
My teacher took long leave.
A month later, my teacher came back to school.
Her hair was all white, her eyelids were swollen and she came towards me.
I started suffocating.
She came to me and handed me an envelope: “The smaller one is for you.” I’m sorry.
“Where is he? I’m sorry.
The teacher had red eyes and no words.
The heart stopped for seconds at that moment.
The chest hurts.
My deepest fear, it’s come true.
I shivered and opened the envelope, and it was on paper.
“Only, it’s written.
You know, you’re like a little dog I raised when I was a kid.
When I first met you in my mom’s office, I felt like you were abandoned, helpless, little milk dog, trying to protect yourself, trying to make a fool out of yourself.
Then when you cried in the playground, when you were drinking, you were kicked a few feet and you had nowhere to hide.
And then when you jump in front of me, it’s like getting picked up again and starting to trust people.
I’m happy to see you, just remember when I was little and I didn’t know what to worry about.
I didn’t know I was going to leave, and the world was shining.
I’ll be able to bathe in the sun again when I’m gone. You’re the lucky one. Only you are my sunshine.
Blessed is the last day to know you.
except that you should be strong and good, and take your own sword, and take thorns, and strike a way for yourself to live.
You can do it, I’m sure.
Don’t be afraid, don’t be lonely.
I’ll be watching you in heaven, waiting for you.
You have to live and rot.
When you become an old lady, I greet you in heaven.
Square. I’m sorry.
Just a few lines, I read for half an hour.
I can’t cry.
And it was not until after school that I cried: How could you let go? I’m sorry.
How could you leave me alone in this world?
How can you give me the light and warmth and return me to the cold abyss?
My chest hurts. I fainted.
When I woke up, my teacher looked at me in the school clinic and cried: “The more he had a heart attack, it was a miracle that he could survive. He asked me to keep an eye on you while he was gone, so you had to hold on. He can’t let you go. I’m sorry.
I shed two tears.
Fang Viet, I can’t make it.
10
I came home like a corpse, and my dad called me: “Only, you come to me, be smart, teach and hope for progress, and your aunt will be happy, and our family will be happy…”
I hung up.
Who wants to live with them. Disgusting.
My mother was on the sidewalk: “You better not hang up on him, you’ll have to beg for a life under his roof.” Uncle Chang and I are getting married. We can’t take care of you.
Tomorrow I’ll take you to your dad’s. Be smart. I’m sorry.
I said nothing.
It has nothing to do with me.
The next day, my mom took my bags and took me to my dad’s.
I followed her and said, “Mom, I loved you, you know. I’m sorry.
My mother put her hand on it: “It’s like I don’t love you.” I’m sorry.
I laughed.
That sounds like it.
We’ll go downstairs and wait for my dad to pick me up.
I looked at the tall buildings, and I looked at the roof as if it were a blue sky cloud, and suddenly I wanted to go up.
I’ve been thinking about it.
I made up an excuse with my mother to take the emergency route to the roof.
I want to come up and see you one more time.
He said he’d look at me in heaven.
I’m closer to heaven than I can see him.
The roof is really high, as if it could catch the clouds.
I looked up and looked at the sky, and I waited for the other side to appear.
The cold wind on the roof is blowing me down.
Someone’s screaming downstairs, someone’s calling the police.
My mom called me down in cold, so I wouldn’t be ashamed.
My dad turned his head and covered his eyes and feared that my blood would spill over her.
I was laughing so much that I could hear you on the roof.
The coldness was like her mother.
But what does it matter to me?
The only thing that matters to me in this world is Fang.
There are no clouds in the sky, clear and warm.
I leaned on my head and patiently waited for it to come.
One minute, two minutes, ten minutes, half an hour, one hour.
I can’t stand it anymore.
I’m scared.
I fear that heaven does not exist.
I waited another hour and nothing happened.
I feel like I hear a voice saying that he won’t show up, that you’ve spent so many years in school, that you can’t believe in something like heaven, and the more it’s gone and gone.
Turned to dust.
I fell down and took a step to the edge of the floor.
I should have known there was no heaven, no soul.
I’ll never see Fang Eong again.
I was desperate to close my eyes and just to jump.
My parents are still downstairs and have given up on me. My mom called my dad early. My dad complained that she didn’t like me.
Only the firefighter’s little brother has been trying to persuade me.
I appreciate it, but I can’t hold it.
I took another step forward.
It is time for all to end today.
There was a panic downstairs, and my parents were there.
They just seem to realize I’m not acting.
I couldn’t help but laugh.
They’re scared now. But it’s late.
I can even think that after my death, they will briefly miss me, repent briefly and forget me for a long time.
After I died, started loving me.
When I was the seventh, I completely forgot.
I took a breath and then waved to the firefighter’s brother, and I said thank you and turned and raised my feet.
But at that moment, the golden light burst out of the cloud that covered my face.
The soft voice, with the sun in my ear, as if the others were right across my face: “Only, you promised to live well and be strong.” I’m sorry.
I lifted my feet and put them down immediately.
I looked upon the sky with no confidence, and looked at the fireman: “Do you hear me? I’m sorry.
And he shakes his head blindly: “What do you hear? I’m sorry.
And I hear with my head on my back, and ears on my ears, and the sound that is familiar is not distasteful: “Go down, it is none but you, and your abode is not here nor at this time. Don’t worry, I’ll be waiting for you. I’m sorry.
I closed my eyes and cried.
I noded, “I know.” I’m sorry.
“I’ll live a good and strong life, I’ll live to be an old lady, and I’ll find you, Fang Viet, wait for me! I’m sorry.
There’s a few young, handsome smiles in the dark cloud of the sun.
Fong, the dog will grow into a big wolf, strong and good, and then meet you.
You wait for me, okay.
Eleven.
When I came downstairs, my mom was like, “What time is it? I’m sorry.
“How can I leave this to you?” How do I let you in?”
“I’m sorry, I’m not going to live with you.” I’m sorry.
And I walked forth, “I am sick of anyone who lives with you.” I’m sorry.
The more I’ve got, the more I’ve rented a single room next to the school, and I’ve been learning day and night, and I’ve been burning my life.
That is my commitment and my meaning in the world since then.
I went to the best medical college.
When my dad heard about it, he wanted to throw me a promotion, and I hacked him.
And We have no hope in this life, and are not afraid of being single, and we have been far apart, and there is no fear of loneliness.
I can see the sky when I miss him, I can dream in my eyes.
I don’t need the love of my father and mother, and I’ve tasted the warmth of love enough to light up the rest of my life.
After graduating from the Medical Institute, I went to hospital and became the country ‘ s top child cardiologist.
My dad came to me crying and he said he found out that he wasn’t his kid. The paternity test was done.
He looked at my nose and regretted, “Why don’t I think more about how the ancient noses of the old Luk family can be turned into big nostrils?” I’m sorry.
I pointed to the door: “I have a lot of patients. Please don’t delay the children. I’m sorry.
My dad cried and said I was his only child, and he wanted to regenerate with me.
So did my mother, who one day had half-white hair, stuck in front of my hospital, crying that she regretted it.
Uncle Zhang’s sexual invasion of prison resulted in compensation for the loss of her family’s property and was verbally targeted at her nose.
She said only, you’re the one who loves Mom! Let’s go back to the old days. You used to care about Mom!
“I have an operation in the morning. I’m sorry.
Don’t dirty my ear with those words.
My ear is the one that keeps the ear shut and listens to me when I save those kids calling me Aunt Angel.
Years passed, and I didn’t realize that I’d lived my life as a doctor, and I’d end up 85 years old, and I’d been unmarried for life, and my children who had been rescued had their eyes closed around them.
They don’t call me Aunt Angel anymore. Call me Aunt Angel.
Their eyes are bright and bright. It’s full of life.
My parents were gone long ago, and I took care of them, but that’s all.
Parents and children are also fated.
We are lost in this life, and we will never see again again.
And I spit out the last breath of the earth, and the soul returns to its original state, and out of the window, passing through the clouds, flying into the blue sky, reaching a warm grass, standing in front of a white door.
The long body stood at the door and smiled, “We met again. I’m sorry.
I looked at him and cried two tears and laughed eight teeth: “Did you see that I was good and strong and that I was serious after all this?” I’m sorry.
And he took my hand gently: “I saw it every day. I’m sorry.
I laughed and suddenly remembered that a long time ago I seemed to have made a birthday wish.
The more you say it, the less you say it.
I wrinkled my nose who said that.
That’s what I’m talking about — that’s what we’ll always be together.
Nothing can be separated. Record number: YXX15Q39XyJCYAX843pCNxNy
I don’t know.
Keep your eyes on the road.
