Weather on August 15, 2000: Rain
Today is my 14th birthday. Time really flies, although many people still see me as a child. But believe me, what I've experienced in these fourteen years is no less than what those who look like adults have. At least, that's what I think.
Summer really is rainy, the kind that pours down. I sit on the bed, notebook and pen in hand, without needing to turn on the light. Because every now and then, a flash of lightning streaks into the room. I can use the light of the lightning to continue writing down my thoughts that only I know. Okay, I have to admit, I don't really like light. Especially the light in this room. With the light on, all I can see are moldy walls, windows with cracks in the glass, and that door that terrifies and disgusts me. No, it's not even a door. A man, or a normal woman, could kick it open cleanly and easily with a little force. So, I prefer darkness, I like to hide myself in the dark. I really don't understand why so many people are afraid of the dark; maybe they've spent too much time in the light. As for me, I've long forgotten what the light looks like.
A clap of thunder just boomed in the rain, and my body involuntarily trembled. I thought the devil had returned. Now, let me compose myself and start writing today's diary again, as a memento of my 14th birthday. Strangely, I suddenly can't think of anything to write about. So, I'll just reminisce about those happy days and people from the past. When I was little, well, back then I wasn't afraid of the light. My favorite thing to do was play with my sister. Although we were both girls, we liked all the things boys liked to do. Running wildly in the mud on rainy days, playing marbles with the boys, and teasing other kids were things we often did. Every time we came home, our parents would scold us sternly when they saw my sister and me covered in mud, and then clean us up. By the time my mother finished cleaning us, my father had already prepared dinner. Our family wasn't well-off, and sweet and sour pork ribs were a rarity. But every time my father made ribs, my sister and I could smell that sweet and sour aroma from far away. My father is a native of Wuxi, and he loves to add sugar to his cooking, so unless a dish has a hint of sweetness, I don't find it tasty. Later, however, my father cooked less often, and my mother seemed to be busier with "work." My sister and I didn't know why, and when it was mealtime, we would just reheat leftovers from the previous day and make do. Fortunately, my sister and I have a very good relationship, and even leftovers tasted good to us.
This went on for a year or two, until one day, my younger sister was taken by my father to take an entrance exam for elementary school, while I stayed home with my mother. It was a rare day off for her. I saw her stand in front of the mirror for a long time, fixing her hair, applying face powder, and finally spraying her clothes with a small bottle. I'm pretty sure I didn't like the smell. Now I know that she was putting on makeup, trying to look as beautiful as possible. Later, my mother even wanted to take me out to play. I was, of course, very happy, and then…
I adjusted my mindset, trying my best to suppress suicidal thoughts, before I could continue reminiscing about the beautiful things from previous years. My mother and I went to a park and waited for a few minutes. A man waved to my mother from a short distance away. My mother smiled; I swear I hadn't seen her smile so brightly in a long time. The man came over, and my mother told me to call him Uncle Zheng, which I did. To be honest, I didn't like Uncle Zheng at first. I secretly glanced at his face; he wasn't very pleasing to the eye, and seemed rather fierce. Especially his eyes—I didn't like the way he looked at my mother; it was like a hungry wolf staring at a lamb. However, gradually, my opinion changed. He took me to a Western restaurant I had never been to before and occasionally gave me toys and clothes. Of course, all of this came with conditions. I had to promise never to mention their affair to my father. At the time, I foolishly agreed. But I promise, I still prefer the ribs my father makes and the sweet taste of those dishes.
One noon, I finally didn't have to hide it from my father anymore. He, who was supposed to be at work, suddenly came home at lunchtime. I was watching TV in the living room when I heard moaning and groaning coming from my mother's room. When my father came in, he kicked open the door. I was terrified. I don't know if I glimpsed my mother and Uncle Zheng embracing naked, or if I saw the murderous look on my father's face. After that, my memories of my parents became blurry. For the next few days, there seemed to be nothing but endless arguments. Perhaps that's how people are; they tend to remember the good things and choose to forget the bad. But some tragic events and hateful people can never be forgotten. In the end, my parents did indeed go their separate ways. That day, my mother took me and left the house we had lived in for several years. Neither my father nor my mother seemed to have any regrets. But my sister and I were different. I don't know why my sister couldn't go with my mother and me, or why I couldn't stay with my father and sister. Now I understand that my parents made the fairest decision regarding my sister's and my future long ago. A few years ago, I would often write to my sister, and she would reply frequently. But in the past year, I haven't heard from her at all. All I know is the address of the old house. I will continue to write to my sister, hoping she will see it.
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