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［英文原创短篇］My name is Year.
My name is Year.
It was given by my dad. He told me in his homeland, every year a kind of flower blooms. It’s called Three-Color-Year.
When I got old enough to understand what my father had told me, I couldn’t even remember his face. The only thing left was a photo in black and white. My mother said that the picture was taken when I was only 1-year-old. In the picture, I saw a childish face and my dad was holding me. He had a handsome face and wore a white T-shirt. After a long time occasionally I might take this picture out and looked at it, felt very sad. Although this picture was taken very seriously at that time, now nobody even remember what is the purpose to take this photo.
I know there are some people unforgettable in my life, although I lost them when I was very young. Their images were deeply marked in my soul and inerasable. We will only do two things in our entire lives for those marks: remembering and seeking.
That spring must be the most awful period of time in my life. Light drizzle was last more than ten days. Finally, sun got out and the daytime became longer and longer. We could hear variety of sounds within this city and felt it is moving. I thought that it is just a kind of repeat. There was just the white ceiling in my eyes. I knew that I was getting closer another day to my death. My mom was preparing my breakfast in the kitchen. I barely could hear the sounds through the wall. They waked me up. I had to wash my face, brush my teeth, have my breakfast and go to school. I was still drowsy in all these repeating, then walked down to the street and crossed the park. I saw lots of senior people were playing Taiqi, the younger people were waiting for the buses and the kids who were in my age were carrying their school bag, just like the donkeys.
I couldn’t remember when I started to doubt if all these repeating got its real sense. I just didn’t want to waist my life in all these copying and copying. Like the song says: Death isn’t the most horrible thing. All these copying and copying are more terrible than pure death.
I asked my friend, when could we finish all these lives?
“Anytime,” she said, “walk straight and use child carriage.”
We were in the last year of our high school.
I could see all the students were studying when I walked into my classroom. The air here was so impure and I knew deeply in my heart that I would burry my beautiful life in this place. No choice at all.
In that class, I remembered my father’s face. It hurt me so much and tears were in my eyes. I thought I couldn’t take this kind of life any more. I didn’t tell anyone that I lost all my interest to waiting for newer life.
When I was back home, I felt very tired. My mother saw my score report. She yelled and cried to me: “It was a big mistake for me to give birth to you.” I suddenly understood that I had been such a redundancy for other peoples’ lives and mine.
I locked myself in my room and I heard my mother’s sound:
“Year, you are ****** me worried about you so much. You are ruining yourself.”
“Ok, you don’t have to open the door, but you have to listen to me.”
“Do you think it is easy for me to take care of you by myself?”
“You will understand all these pain within it.”
“I just want you to be responsibility to yourself.”
I opened the door then I saw my mother’s face.
I embraced her and I suddenly felt she was getting older and older.
I felt helpless.
After I finished my second pre-test, the only thing that I could imagine was my mom’s tired face. After the Parents Teacher Conference, my mom came back. She threw my report card on my face, and yelled to me: “Year, I already did my best! Do you know what you have done? You hurt me like this?” She kicked my leg and smacked my head. My ears droned like thousand of bees in them. After these she even bitted me more.
In my memory, my mom had been in bad mood since my father left. That year I was only seven years old. Every day when I came back home. I could hear my mother was crying loudly. My mother always told me: “Year, if I scold you for no reason, you just tell mom: ‘I am your daughter.’ I always in bad mood, please forgive me.” After she told me, she began to cry. I’m so afraid about that but I couldn’t understand what my mom said. When I was older, I suddenly knew she had big hurt so many years. She got loaded all these toilsome sadness by herself. I used so many years to try to forget but I couldn’t do it. I don’t know how much I can control when I become a woman from a kid. So I protected myself when I only seven years old.
My father went to Xinjiang Oil Field when I was two years old. That place was called Kuerle. My mom always took me to post office to call my dad. At that time, the communication was not as modern as now. I tried to say: “Dad, take care of yourself. We both miss you.” as loud as I can. My father told me that when he heard my sound, he always cries.
There is love in our lives. It must be the only sense that we live for.
When I was young, I always woke up in the middle night. I heard my mom and dad was brawling. I didn’t understand. But I usually cried. I didn’t know what happened. I still could hear my mom was singing in my dream. She taught me how to sing an old song. That song was very sad. It accompanied me to spend my childhood.
One day I woke up, my mom sat on my bed. Her eyes looked very tired. I asked her: “Where is my dad?”
“Your dad was gone.”
“Mom, it was my fault.”
“Doesn’t matter. It’s not you* **ult. When can you grow up…”
I didn’t say anything. My mom was crying again.
My father came back next morning. I saw he was packing his luggage. He saw me, too. He told me: “Year, you have to listen to what your mother said. Be a good girl. OK?” He stroked my head, but I did cry like a usual kid. I tried my best to not to cry out.
All the people in my family are very kind but contumacy. Everyone was not good at explaining their thoughts to other people. I always repentance if I cried that day, what was the different result? I suddenly know that that was the last time I could saw him.
I finished my third pre-test. She was very angry about my marks. I woke up at 3 o’clock and I saw my mom was sitting on the sofa. The only thing I could say was just: “Mom, I don’t want study any more.” She asked me: “What do you want to do?” I answered: “Mom, I always remembered when I was young, you walked with me and taught me those song. I haven’t seen my father more than ten years and I want to go to Xinjiang to see him.” She didn’t reply. “I felt so tired and I know you are tired, too. I want to travel. Just travel.”
My mother didn’t say a word. We had been sit there for whole night. At last, my mom said: “I just wish you get to the right way. ”
I left home in April.
I said goodbye to my mom.
I started my travel.
I am going to see my dad.
I jumped on the train. There were lots of people waiting for their friends. I knew my dreams become truth and I said goodbye to my all tired memory.
Love just like a kind of farewell.
I couldn’t sleep first night. My memory was wake up and make me couldn’t sleep. There was just silence in this train. I remembered that old song about a girl who left her homeland.
After three days, I arrived. I met a guy who was work in the same place as my dad. He took me to my dad’s field.
I hardly found my dad’s room. It was a small room and there was nobody in it. So I sat beside the door and waited for my dad.
The sky was getting darker. The air was fresh. I never saw so many stars on the sky before. I still could remember in a summer night when I was little. My parents brought me to our back yard. Occasionally I could saw a sta* **lling down. I felt I was in an ancient and mystery age. My mom started to sing the old song to me and my dad taught to know those constellations. These things were really there at that time, but when I am recalling them now, I am like receiving a wonderful gift.
I don't know when I lost my clean and honest life.
I almost sleep and I told myself don’t sleep.
After all these, my dad was presence.
He walked through the darkness. I knew it was he. He didn’t change his way to walk. I saw his face after ten years separation.
We looked at each other and haven’t said anything. My tear came out. I said: “Dad, I came here to see you.” My father put his hand on my face. He didn’t believe his daughter was standing in front of him. He loved me but I still don’t understand why did he left. Some question we can’t even explain in our lives.
My father let me inside the room. It’s a very normal room. We didn’t have excited reunited. Just like we haven’t seen each other for a weekend. I felt very sorry to my father. I missed him, but I didn’t even tell him.
He asked me about my mother and my life. I said it was pretty good but I didn’t pass the pre-test. I suddenly felt so tired. He gave me a cup of hot water. I saw there were two photos on the table. One is my mom and I. The other one is a woman. She is very pretty. I don’t want think about it anymore. I slept.
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[楼 主]
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Posted: 2006-12-14 04:51 |
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动感温哥华 -> 文学圣地 -> ［英文原创短篇］My name is Year.
