March 26, 2014

The dead girl

The scenery in my hometown is beautiful tree, the branches of the willows drooped in the spring of April, the peach, like the dream garden, clear and natural. The girl in the village to work in the vegetable garden, the sun, reflected in the tie a ponytail girl face, cheeks red, like a red apple like, infiltration in the morning. Not and in a short while, the sweat from the forehead down, down a bit dry skin slowly seep.
The scenery in my hometown is beautiful tree, the branches of the willows drooped in the spring of April, the peach, like the dream garden, clear and natural. The girl in the village to work in the vegetable garden, the sun, reflected in the tie a ponytail girl face, cheeks red, like a red apple like, infiltration in the morning. Not and in a short while, the sweat from the forehead down, down a bit dry skin slowly seep.
I stood at the entrance to the village shouting girl, she looked up, surprised and looked at me, eyes clear like a mirror like shine in my heart, the village not far from the land, and the heart is close in young children. Then she ran to my nose to scold me, with her hand on my head and looked at her blankly, I wood, tears kept streaming down, but she called more fierce, and then the proud ran home, I see her on a ridge with a runny nose ran back also, I was standing at the entrance to the village.
Then every day we play together, if nothing to do, I even feel I cannot do without her, I'm running on her ass, stole the corn in the village of corn, and in one place to urinate, sometimes she pointed at my crotch, said my pants of urine wet, but I just don't admit, she still did not forget to show her feminist in front of me, she let me out of the palm of your hand, and I always silly to let her play, sometimes playing heavy called loudly, as if in the expression of my protest.
Until the primary school graduation, we are together. In high school, I do not like before, I began to miss her, she did not continue to read, home events, the mother with the foreign man, father started drinking, no matter what, father whip her, she became silent, if she did not speak, I don't even remember her face. I know from neighbours, she has a younger sister to take care of, so the drop out of school to go home, but when she had to take care of her father, I forgot about her memories, only vaguely remember her father always naked lying in the yard, smoking a cigarette, or simply not at home, I'm too easily become numb, grow up, about the memory of childhood is more helpless, actually I don't want to.
High school summer vacation I stay at home, not what to do, I walk alone in the village, every time pass by her door, I stood there, deja vu, the total will not hesitate to go in to look at her, heard her father put her feet interrupted, I don't know how to comfort her, maybe she didn't know me now, I do the worst, turn left.
Time to avoid leaning to either side, I met her at the entrance to the village under the tree, she made a pair of no hurt, she recognized me, she lay in a flag, a foot drooping, smiled at me. The years seemed to favor her, slowly leave traces on her face, can she become mature, I totally unfamiliar, some of her eyes had no light, indeed, she tears, I do not know is this scene frightened, or not to accept the asphyxia fact, I want to escape from it atmosphere. I plucked up the courage to ask her, she hold one's tongue, and I can not stay, quickly ran out, the time like Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva of hell, I don't dare set foot on this land, in the face of the moment.

Posted by: bilb at 08:30 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
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