Chapter 7 Chapter 6 I am a stranger to myself

Time is a painter, I am a rubbing picture, the shape of a mountain, the outline of a cave.This picture was painted before I came into this world.I walked slowly in this canal of time, and discovered the relationship between me and this painting. I saw that this painting itself is a history, and the lives of all women are painted here. Summer is my favorite season, the days seem so long, unlike winter, the sky gets dark early, and there is a strong wind blowing outside the window, which reminds people of many horror stories. Although it is hot in summer, the room is cool and cool.The point is, the whole long summer.I can wear only a cotton vest and a short skirt, with my arms (Miss No) and legs (Miss Yes) exposed, and I have many opportunities to talk to Miss No and Miss Yes.

I found that they grow very fast in summer, especially after I woke up from a long nap during the long summer vacation, I saw "Miss No" and "Miss Yes" and they grew longer, lazy It looks lazy, thin and long like the cold noodles that are often eaten in summer.I don't like the sun, and I usually walk in the shade, because I get dizzy when exposed to the sun, so "Miss No" and "Miss Yes" are as white as coral stones, with blue blood vessels lying on them Under the transparent skin, it looks like the river on the huge map of China behind my house.After my nap every day, I spend a lot of time talking to Miss No and Miss Yes.

My mother said that in summer, I grow as fast as the weeds in the yard. In this way, a few summers passed, and I grew almost as tall as my mother. The Wanjiao Primary School where I was studying has been changed into a wearing hat school (that is, a 10-year consistent school for elementary and middle school), called Wanjiao Central School.I continued to enter secondary school here, under the name of Mr. T all the time. After the body picture incident, Mr. T was still hostile to me, reprimanding and finding fault with me at every turn.As I grow taller, Mr. T seems to be shorter in my eyes, but his arrogance in front of me is getting higher and higher.

Several female students in the class began to circle around Mr. T, and I could see that they were full of admiration for him. In Mr. T's Chinese class, they always sat upright from the beginning to the end, staring at Mr. T without turning their eyes. When the get out of class was over, they surrounded him and asked questions deliberately.They even imitated the way he flicked his hair, and used chalk ends to imitate his movement of popping cigarette butts out of the window.I know that T doesn't like me, so naturally I always hide away. In any class, there will always be a situation where many people revolve around one person. This person is usually one of their teachers or a leader among the students. Keep yourself safe and in order.Keep yourself from being isolated and excluded.However, I don't like this.If I can't say what I want to say, at least I can not say what I don't want to say.Would rather be alone - a person, without a companion.

There was a class break, and several female students chatted around T as usual. In order to avoid the embarrassment of being a "stranger" or "outsider", I lay down on my desk and did my homework. I looked up by chance, and found that T was looking over the group of small heads surrounding him, and cast his eyes on me. His eyes were like electricity, hot and cold, penetrating my body.I quickly buried my head again, focusing on the crooked fonts on my homework book, my pen characters shrugged in the square grid, looking out of shape. At this time, I heard T yelling my name, "Ni Aoao, you are not allowed to do homework between classes, go to my office!"

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a large figure rushing towards my desk like a shadow. I dare not look up at him, my face must be flushed again, because I already feel the heat.I swallowed hard, and suppressed the trembling of the hiccup muscle caused by the sudden tension. I don't understand at all why he keeps yelling at me and why he can't talk to me calmly.I continued to lower my head, looked at my clenched pale fingers on the desk, carefully smoothed out a piece of waste paper, and then tore it violently, as if what I tore in my hands was not A scrap of paper, but T's angry skin.

Then, I stopped what I was doing and followed him to his office. Naturally, I did not succeed in the following classes, and I have been listening to T's instructions in his office.I kept turning my head to one side awkwardly, refusing to look at him, and he repeatedly pulled my shoulder or pulled my arm, asking me to look at him and his dignity.Sometimes, when he said he was tired, he would stare at my face or my chest, his eyes fixed like rust, as if I were a monster, his eyes burning with anger.I don't know what's wrong with these parts of me that annoys him so much. He stared at me and forced me to look at him intently, too.He was sitting on a chair in front of his desk, and I was standing on his right side, leaning on the window stick, my eyes dropped right on top of his head.So I stared at his hair, which was naturally curly, chestnut black, and clustered in a mess on the top of his head.Perhaps it was because of the hot weather and sweating, his hair was wet, as if he had just taken a bath, exuding a faint salty smell, exuding an unstoppable vitality.

A ray of golden sunlight outside the window slanted on his head, and the curly hair looked like a fluffy bird's nest in the tropical rainforest. When he finally noticed that I kept staring at his hair, he became uncomfortable.He kept running his fingers through his hair, shrugging his shoulders nervously, as if the clothes didn't fit him well. From his flickering eyes, I could see that he was puzzled by my so focused gaze.My purpose, however, was to puzzle him as much as I puzzled his gaze. T is indeed a weird man.At that time, I naturally couldn't understand that the hostility of an arrogant big man was often based on a kind of arrogant enthusiasm that he himself could not clearly define.The power of slander and anger is actually directly proportional to his yearning for the other party.Like a man's flattery or enthusiasm.It is often out of hostility in his bones, not out of love, which is the same reason.

Many men are such contradictory, violent, sacrosanct people. Whether in elementary school or in middle school, I have always been separated from the people around me by a deep gap.At that time, our class was promoted from elementary school to middle school. It should be said that all the faces were familiar.But I was always like an outsider, unable to participate and infiltrate them. I was always outside their group, bearing the feeling of being expelled as a foreigner.And other little girls with pigtails or cropped hair were safely mingled in a kind of communal glee.The school becomes their home and paradise.And I don't feel that way.

The joy of being integrated with the group is a kind of permanent disability for me. I clearly remember the light brown tables and chairs with wooden stripes in the school, the piercing scream when the glass blackboard rubbed against the inferior chalk, I remember that my seat was on the left side of the third row by the window, and even more Every incident that insulted my self-esteem.However, I don't have much recollection of what happened with this group or a part of it. Many years later, when I grew up and read "The Stranger" by Carl Valentine, I realized that one does not have to be in a strange place to be a stranger.A stranger is a stranger because he feels himself a stranger.In other words, only when she feels that she is no longer a stranger, she is no longer a stranger.This is of course a way of saying it.In addition, I think that when a person understands everything around her, nothing is strange to her, and she is no longer a stranger.

Therefore, in my student days, my schoolmates and I were nothing more than acquaintances who were strangers to each other. In fact, the image of "strange acquaintance" stayed with me for many years later. In the hot summer, I often wear a long vest at home, covering my buttocks, and a dress with a skirt, which is loose on my body, and most of my limbs are exposed.This gave me the opportunity to observe changes in my own body.I looked at myself in the mirror for a long time, motivated by T's glare at my face and chest.I suddenly discovered that I did have some changes, the changes first occurred in my breasts, which I felt became plump and protruding.After observing it continuously for a few days, I felt like there was a piece of dough inside, which made it ferment and swell day by day, and I felt a faint pain that I had never felt before. This discovery really surprised me. At this time, a neighbor woman surnamed Ge in the front yard of my house just happened to have breast cancer. It is said that she felt it out while taking a bath, and she felt a hard lump inside.It was also said that her man touched it on a rainy night.The sweltering heat and the sound of the rain made him unable to fall asleep, so he caressed his woman carefully and boredly, and found something strange in the end.In short, she went to the hospital for examination, and after several verifications, she was finally diagnosed as cancer. I heard from my mother that she had undergone a major operation. The doctor dug out her two breasts like picking persimmons from a tree, and removed most of the lymph nodes in her armpits.A breastless woman, as flat as a cutting board, her breasts wrapped in bloody gauze in the sweltering dog days.That suffocation and pain come from the double oppression of the body and spirit. Even so, the mother said, the woman would die soon after because her cancer had spread.Of course, she didn't know it herself. At night, when I was lying on the small bed in my room, I heard the long groan of the woman from the front yard faintly, and I was very frightened. , I put my hands on my chest in horror and groped. Sure enough, I felt a hard pimple on my slightly protruding breasts, just under the nipple.I touched the other one again, and I also felt a hard pimple.Now, I'm really freaking out. All night I tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep, imagining how soon I would die like the woman in the front yard. I heard from my mother that death is to bite life into pieces.There is no disappearance that goes further away from us than death, no liberation that is more thorough than death, and no betrayal that is more profound than the betrayal of relatives and friends that death brings.Death is an irrevocable ending. I was lying on the bed, as if someone had forcibly put on a robe and shroud of silk and satin, and I couldn't take it off.I stared at the sky as clear as a pool of blue water at night outside the window, the tropical monsoon from my heart and the icy cold flow alternately in my blood vessels. I thought, I don't want to get rid of anything, and I don't want to betray my mother, and He, whom I like very much.Why do you want to die?Of course, if I die, I can achieve the purpose of betraying Mr. T and my father, which is the only thing I am willing to do.However, I still don't want to die. I didn't dare to wake up my father and mother in the inner room, so I lay on the bed alone, thinking wildly. ... I heard death like a most piercing instrument, a sound like sharp glass or metal, and the door closed with a bang to its beat, and I was shut out from the outside world. At this time, my body fell onto the bed like a flash of lightning, and lay down beside me in a cold state, lying side by side with me.I turned sideways, backed away, and in the dim darkness I saw my dead body with wide open eyes, but her desperate eyes refused to look.Her lips kept moving, but she also refused to speak to me.She kept sneezing, but the sound was weird, like the original Sophia Loren sneezing in my house. Finally, my corpse finally got up restlessly from the bed, and walked back and forth in the room, much like a shadow on a towering wall.She has no left or right.There is no front and back, as if wandering in a multi-dimensional space, flickering and swaying, and the capture is uncertain.She can see everything she wants to see. My corpse walked on the ground alone for a while, then came towards me.The corpse suddenly smiled at me, opened its lips, and greeted me.She said she didn't like graves, she liked walking through cedar forests.I desperately wanted to reach out and touch her chest to see if she was still breathing.However, I found that her breasts are flat and genderless.I panicked, but didn't want to just leave her alone... It wasn't until the sky was slightly bright that I fell asleep in a daze. In the early morning, when my mother woke me up, she was very surprised to see my pale face and distraught expression. I don't know why I became like this overnight. Mother touched my forehead and asked, "Aoao, are you sick?" I said, "Mom, is that woman in the front yard going to die?" My mother was even more baffled, unable to figure out what happened. I said, "Mom, I'm going to die too, I've got cancer in me too." I finally cried.Tears are like raindrops in July, rushing and falling. My mother touched my body, and sure enough, there was something like a hard pimple inside.I dodged back and I said, "It hurts." My mother was skeptical, "How can a child get breast cancer?" she said.Anxiety also began to appear on his face. This morning, I didn't go to school as usual, and my mother took me to the hospital. At that time, there were no physiology courses in schools, unlike today's adolescent children, who can learn about the development, perfection and differences of men and women from the proper way of school physiology teaching.Although I am almost as tall as my mother, my sexual awareness and knowledge are very ignorant.And my mother always regarded me as a child and couldn't see me growing up. In the gynecology room of the hospital, there are almost all women with bulging bellies who are about to give birth. A pregnant woman is lying on her back on a high hard bed. Her belly is like a round white drum. It seemed that it was full of gas, and it had swelled so much that it couldn't bulge any more.A middle-aged male doctor pressed her stomach back and forth and kept asking questions.I waited on the sidelines, very worried that the stomach would be broken. When it was my turn, my mother explained my situation to the male doctor. The doctor had a thin face, his eyes were set far apart, and he looked nonchalant.A big mouth, which is too big due to the narrow face, exaggeratedly reveals his inner dissatisfaction. He asked me to unbutton my shirt, so I shyly opened my skirt in front of this strange man.He casually but carefully touched my breasts, then gave my mother a mocking smile and said, "She's fine, she's developing." My mother said, "Yeah. She said it hurts." The doctor was a little impatient, "Didn't you develop and grow up? This is normal!" Then, perhaps realizing his attitude, he softened his tone and asked. "how old is she?" Mother answered him. The doctor said, "She looks thinner than girls of the same age, and she should be given more nutrition." After watching "Illness", my mother and I both breathed a sigh of relief and walked out of the overwhelming Lysol smell. In the small shop next to the hospital gate, my mother saw the effect immediately and bought me a bottle of yogurt and a piece of ham sausage on the spot, asking me to strengthen my nutrition.That kind of urgency, as if once I eat these, I will immediately gain weight. I ate all the way home. As I walked, I was vaguely reminded of Widow He's peach-heavy, white breasts.