Chapter 7 Chapter 7 Exploration

It's hard to believe it's the third week of January, isn't it, doctor?I am very happy that these Christmas and New Year's day farces are finally over.Just remembered, did I tell you about my Christmas with that freak?You know, I thought I'd never get a chance to tell anyone about these things.He sat me down one day and told me that it was already December and we were not going to celebrate Christmas because it was just a means by society to control the masses. This is not the end.I had to listen to him blather on about the evils of Christmas, how society has turned a myth into a money-making means.The last thing in the world I want to do is celebrate any holiday with this freak, and when he's done whining and whining about Christmas, I'd love to help the Grinch steal it.In fact, that's exactly what the bastard did.He stole my Christmas.Of course, he also stole many, many other things from me.Like, my pride, self-esteem, happiness, security, and guts in bed, but what can I complain about?

This year, I at least tried to buy a Christmas tree...maybe it will be different next year.You once told me that I can change where I am now, and I have to understand that, and I should remember all my small improvements, no matter how insignificant they may seem.Today, when I walked out the gate, I smelled snowflakes in the sky, and for a few seconds, I felt excited.So far this year, there has been no snow. In the past, as long as there was a thin layer of snow on the ground, I would take Emma to run around in the snow.It was hilarious.Running, sliding, jumping, digging holes, and eating snow.I wish I knew what it was thinking.Does it think, little rabbits, little rabbits, I want to catch those little rabbits.Sometimes I surprise him with a handful of treats in the snow.

After playing, I will take a hot bath, make a cup of tea, sit by the fire with a book in my hand, and watch Emma scratch her paws in her sleep, maybe reliving the happy time of the day.I think back on all this and feel happy.It seems that there is hope again. But when I think of last Christmas, my happy mood will disappear in an instant.Believe me, living in an airtight cabin all winter just takes cabin phobia to a whole new level.Also, in mid-January last year, I was four months pregnant. When I was locked up on the mountain, the most I looked forward to was the time to read - the pervert has a good taste in choosing books - and I don't mind reading the contents of the book aloud to him.When I turn those pages, I feel like I'm somewhere else.So is he.Sometimes he'd close his eyes, or put his chin in his hand, and lean toward me, his eyes glowing, and other times, when the story got to an intense point, he'd walk around the room.If he likes a certain part very much, he will touch his heart with his hand and say "read it again".

He was always asking me what I thought of the books, and at first, I was afraid to express any of my own thoughts, just trying to repeat his.Until one time, he snatched the book out of my hand and said, "Please, Annie, use your beautiful head and tell me what you think." We read "On Waves" together—he likes to mix the classics with modern novels, which tend to be about unhappy families—just in time for the mother to make dog food for the father. "I'm glad she gave him that," I said. "He deserves it. He's a scum." As soon as I said this sentence, I was scared.Would he think I was talking about him?And the word "scum" is not something a lady should say.But he just nodded thoughtfully and said, "Yes, he doesn't appreciate his family at all, does he?"

When we were reading Of Mice and Men, he asked me if I felt sorry for "Dumb Rainey."I told him I did feel sorry for Rainey.He said, "Well, isn't that interesting. Is it because that girl is a slut, so you feel sorry for Rainey? I think it's more pitiful for the puppies he kills. If she is a good girl , does Rainey still deserve your sympathy?" "I sympathize with him no matter what. He's unlucky - he didn't mean to." He smiled and said: "So, as long as it is not intentional, you can kill people casually? I have to remember that." "I'm not……"

He suddenly laughed out loud and held up a hand to stop me from going on, I was already flushed. The freak is very careful with books - I must never lay the book face down or fold the pages.One day, I watched him carefully put the book back on the shelf, and said, "You must have read a lot of books when you were young." He froze, and slowly stroked the spine of the book in his hand. "Only when allowed." When allowed?It was a strange thing to say, but before I could figure out how to continue asking, he asked back, "What about you?" "I read books all the time when I was a child, which is probably one of the benefits of my dad working in the library."

"You're lucky." He finally patted the book and left the cabin. When he walks around the room, discussing a certain character or plot in the book, his eloquence is so good and full of passion, and I will be infected by him and express more of my own views.He encouraged me to speak my mind clearly, and he never lost his temper even when my ideas contradicted his, and I started to feel more relaxed during these debates.Of course, when the reading was over, my fears resumed.Reading is the only thing I like to do. Only reading makes me feel that I am still a person, that I am still myself.

Every night when I lie in bed, I imagine those freaky sperm swimming up my body, hoping my eggs will escape them.I was on birth control pills until he kidnapped me, I hope my system is messed up, and I hope I can be rescued before he gets me pregnant.I thought I'd get my periods back as soon as I stopped taking the meds, but they didn't come until a month after he raped me. One morning we were showering, repeating the routine, with me facing the wall and him standing behind me, washing my legs from top to bottom, from the inside out.Suddenly, he stopped.I turned around and he just stood there staring at the washcloth in his hand.There was blood on the bath towel, and I looked down and saw the blood on the inside of my thigh.He gritted his teeth and blushed.I know what that look means.

"I'm sorry... I don't know." I huddled against the wall. He threw the bath towel on me, stepped out of the tub, and stood on the bathroom mat without saying a word, staring at my lower body.The shower curtain was half drawn and water dripped onto the floor.I thought he was going to throw a fit, but he didn't, he just stuck his hand in, moved the shower head a bit so the water was coming straight at me, and turned off the hot water - just cold water, that chill Cold water of bone marrow. "Wash yourself." I tried not to scream, the water was so cold.He picked up the bath towel from the bathroom floor and threw it at me.

"I'll let you clean yourself." When I felt like I was clean, I took the washcloth and said, "Where do you want me to put this?" He gestured for me to hand him the washcloth, which he inspected carefully before handing it back to me. "Wash it again." He didn't let me out until there was nothing on the bath towel and I was blue all over. "Stay still," he said.I don't know if shaking all over counts as moving.The pervert left the bathroom and returned a few minutes later with a stack of rags. "Use this." He tossed the cloth to me.

I asked, "Is there no sanitary napkin or something?" He brought his face closer and said slowly: "A real woman should have been pregnant long ago." I didn't know what to say, and his voice became louder, "What have you done?" "not possible for me……" "If you can't do your job, I'll find someone who can." He looks at me.I got dressed and stuffed the stack of rags into my panties.My fingers were frozen and I couldn't button up the skirt at all. I was trembling and touching the buttons. He shook his head and said, "You are so pathetic." My period has been here for six days, and every morning, he will let me take a cold shower, and he will wait outside until there is no blood on the bath towel I handed him, then he will let me out.Then, before he takes a bath, I also scrub the entire tub with cleanser.He told me to put the used rags in a bag and said he would throw the bag out, and he told me he burned them all.We also stopped taking baths together during this time, which I thought was fine - he didn't even touch me for six days. In the afternoon, he would let me read some books on how to get pregnant.I still remember the title of one of them, The Shortcut to Pregnancy Naturally.Yes, he is so perverted, he probably thinks that kidnapping a woman, locking her in a hut, and raping her are all natural things. As soon as my period was over, he started trying to get me pregnant again.I want my body to sense that his sperm are evil and reject them, or that the stress and panic keep me from getting pregnant at all.However, my luck wasn't as good. About three weeks later, I knew that my period should be coming again. Every time my stomach felt a little uncomfortable, I hoped it was a period.Every time I go to the toilet, I pray that I can see blood on my underwear.After four weeks, I got it.Judging by the date I carved on the wall, I should have conceived in mid-September, two weeks after my period ended. I hope the pervert doesn't find out, but one morning I woke up to find him stroking my stomach. "I know you're awake. You don't have to get up today." He nuzzled my shoulder. "Look at me, Annie." I turned and looked at him. "Good morning!" he said with a smile, and looked at his hand on my belly. "My mother, Juliette, raised me. She was not my biological mother. She adopted me when I was five years old. My biological mother was probably too young when she gave birth to me. You can't raise a child." His voice was strained. "She didn't think she was too young when she slept with a man." He shook his head and said in a soft voice, "But, then, Juliette changed my life. Her own son died at the age of one. died before he was weaned. She was so loving... she was the one who told me family is everything. And you, Anne, lost half your family too, and I know you've always wanted one of your own Family - I'm so glad you picked me." I picked him?It's ridiculous.Before this pervert kidnapped me, I didn't know if I wanted children or not.I am very happy living the life of an independent professional woman, I have never been the type of woman who walks into a room full of children and says "wow, I want to raise one myself".Now that I'm lying here with this devil's child in my belly, listening to him talk about his mother, this gives me a chance to get into his head and understand his thoughts.Half of me is afraid, but the other half understands that I have to plan for the long run. "You said her name was Juliette, didn't you? Did she die then?" The smile on his face disappeared.He rolled over and stared at the ceiling above his head. "She was taken away when I was eighteen." I waited for him to continue, but he looked lost in thought. I said: "Hearing you say that, she must be a very special person. You have such a good relationship, which is really enviable. Although my mother did not abandon me like your biological mother, since the car accident, the doctor gave her She took a lot of medicine, so she wasn't doing well. I had to go to my aunt's house for a while. I know what it's like to be alone." He glanced at me, then looked away: "What, living with those relatives? Are they treating you well?" When I was in my twenties, I went to therapy to learn how to deal with my feelings about the car accident and the issues I had with my mother—therapy helped—but no matter how many times I told those stories , I never feel easy.Luke and I never discussed these things. "My aunt is my mother's biological sister. The two of them always like you to fight over me, but I think my aunt is very nice. My cousins ​​are older than me, and they basically don't care about me. I don't care." "Really? I think you really care." There was no mocking in his voice. "Don't you have any other relatives to go to?" "My father's relatives have all passed away, and my mother only has this younger sister." In fact, she also has a stepbrother, but he is in prison for robbery, so her mother obviously does not consider their family. "It was tough at the time, but now that I'm older, I'm trying to understand what mum was going through. People didn't have counselling, they didn't have support groups. The doctors just gave you pills." "She sent you away." "It's not that scary anymore." I still remember my cousins ​​whispering, and how my aunt and uncle stopped talking when I walked into the room.If in the same painting, the image of the mother is blurred, then the image of the aunt is clear and sharp.Both of them are blond and small. The women in our family are all blond except me. My aunt is a bit like my mother, but my aunt has thinner lips, longer nose, and narrower eyes.Mom always showed strong emotions, both good and bad, while Auntie was always calm and reserved.She didn't give me many comforting hugs during my stay at her house. "And then your mother sold your house, right? You lost half your family and then your own home?" "How do you know..." "If you want to get to know someone, to really get to know them, there are a lot of ways. Like, if your mom is going to deal with a difficult time, there are a lot of ways." "She had to sell the house, and Dad didn't have life insurance at the time." Six months after the car accident, my mother finally came to pick me up, and that's when I found out that my home no longer existed. "Maybe, but, your life has changed so much, and you have to move, it must be uncomfortable. And you still move to such a small house?" "It's just the two of us anyway. It doesn't need a big place." We moved into a small cramped two-bedroom rented apartment in the worst part of Clayton, across from a pulp mill.Mom's medicine bottle was replaced by a wine bottle, her pink silk nightgown was replaced by a nylon pajamas, and Estee Lauder's perfume was replaced by a knockoff.Money is tight, but she still saves up to buy French cigarettes—everything in France is considered elegant, Mama thinks—and of course, may not be able to buy the best Smirnoff vodka, but Bo Puff can still afford it. Not only did she sell our house, she sold all of Dad's stuff.She kept Dai Qian's awards, trophies and clothes and hung them in her closet. "But it didn't last very long with just the two of you, did it?" "She's been through a lot. It's not easy being a single mother. The options were limited back then." "So, she thinks, this time she should find a real man to take care of herself." He said with a smile. I stared at him for a second: "After the car accident... she also worked." My mom worked as a secretary for a small construction company, and she spent most of her time trying to look good.She will never leave the house without a good makeup, and she is often interrupted in the middle of her makeup, so it is often seen that her eyeliner is blurred or her blush is too bright.But somehow, this suits her very well, showing a kind of flawed beauty like a doll. When men look at her, they will have a desire to save her from the evil world.And the grief of having just lost her husband apparently hasn't stopped her from smiling at other men, either. Four months later, I had a new stepdad, Mr. Wayne.He's a salesman at Mom's company, drives a Cadillac, smokes cigars, and wears cowboy boots—which makes sense if he's from Texas, or even from Alberta , that's still excusable, but I don't think he even left our island.To me he was angular and handsome, sort of an aged Tom Selleck.As soon as they got married, Mom quit her job.I think she thought she had found something to lean on. "What do you think of your new dad?" "He's okay. And seems to really love Mom." "So, your mother has a new life, where is your place?" "Wayne worked hard." I wish I had at least some of the intimacy between me and my biological father, but Wayne and I really had nothing in common.The only books he read were women's magazines or get-rich-quick flyers.Later, I found that I could make him laugh.When I figured out that he thought I was funny, I became a complete little fool around him and would do anything to make him laugh.When he smiled, my mother would get angry and say "stop it, Wayne, you're pampering her even more".So he stopped laughing.I was kind of sad, and afterward, whenever I got the chance, I made fun of him and pretended to be smart about everything.Then, we stopped answering each other. The pervert looked at me seriously, and I realized that my original plan to understand him made him understand me better.I want to get back on track. "What about your dad?" I said. "You never mentioned him." "Dad? That man was never my father. He is not worthy of my adoptive mother, but the adoptive mother is unwilling to face this." He said louder and louder. "He's a traveling salesman, gosh, a fat, hairy salesman..." He swallowed a few times before saying, "I have to set her free." It wasn't just his words that sent chills down my spine, but the flat tone in which he said them made me shudder.I want to know more, but my gut tells me I can't ask anymore.It doesn't matter, the storm in his heart has passed. He jumped out of bed, stretched with a smile on his face, and said with a sigh of contented relief, "Enough said. We should celebrate starting our own little family." He stared at me, and nod. "Stay there." He put on his coat and disappeared out the door.When he opened the door again, the smell of rotting leaves and damp earth filled his nostrils—the smell of summer coming to an end. He came in, flushed, eyes glowing, one hand behind his back.He sat next to me and held his hands out, fists clenched tightly. “Sometimes we have to go through tough times in life,” he said, “but they are just a test, and if we stay strong, there will be a reward in the end.” Our eyes met. "Hold out your hand, Anne." Still looking into each other's eyes, he put a small, cold object into my palm.I dare not see what it is. "I gave this to someone long ago and she didn't deserve it." My palms were itching.He raised his eyebrows and said, "Don't you want to see it?" I slowly lowered my head and looked at the palm of my hand, which was a shining gold necklace, very delicate.He reached out and touched the small heart-shaped pendant in the middle of the necklace. "Pretty, isn't it?" I just want to throw this necklace as far as I can. But I still said, "Yeah, it's really beautiful, thank you." He took the necklace from my hand: "Sit up, and I'll put it on for you." The chain hung around my neck, and I got goosebumps. I wanted to ask him what happened to the girl who originally had the necklace, but I was afraid he might tell me the answer I had already thought of.