I walked without a purpose on the busy street, and cars zoomed past me.
It was an early autumn night. Just a few hours ago, I had a big argument with my parents and angrily left home.
The reason might have been some small, unimportant things. It had happened many times before. But what really hurt me was my mom. She always used mean and untrue things to attack and accuse me, breaking my heart. Just a little while ago, we argued about some small stuff, and she loudly told my dad that I pushed her and even said I hit her...
"What! You dare to hit your mom!"
This was a serious accusation. My angry dad rushed over and slapped me. I felt stars in my eyes, like the room was spinning.
"No! I didn't, I just complained a bit..."
I tried to resist, but my dad didn't believe me. He kicked me over, grabbed a rope, tied me up, and pressed me to the ground. "Today, let me teach you a lesson."
He said to my mom, "Go get the family rod!"
"Yes! Hit him hard and make him learn!"
My mom responded angrily, and before leaving, she even kicked me a few times.
I knew exactly what they meant by the family rod – my childhood nightmare, a stick they used to beat me when I did something wrong. It broke this time, probably because it hadn't been long since the last time. My dad couldn't give up, so he took out a belt and continued hitting me...
"No! I haven't touched her, I'm innocent!"
I cried as I rolled on the ground, trying to avoid the belt. Although I couldn't escape all the hits, at least I could make it harder for my mom to slap my face accurately.
Even though I'd been through this many times, I couldn't handle it. I knew my current pathetic state under the rod, but I also knew my weak heart couldn't face these pains with strength.
Because the more I dodged, the harder I would be hit.
"Still trying to dodge!"
In frustration, my mom lifted her foot to stomp on me. I couldn't help but think of a scene in a movie where someone's on fire, and people are stomping to put out the flames. But it wasn't funny.
But the tragedy didn't last too long. In the chaos, maybe because of my good luck or my dad's hurried tying, the rope behind me gradually loosened as I rolled. I took the chance, freed my hands, stood up, and rushed out the door.
"If you dare to run away, don't come back!"
The shouts faded, and I cried, running on the street without caring about people's stares.
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Of course, this wasn't the first time it happened, but every time, I couldn't calm down.
I was afraid of my parents, probably just because they beat and scolded me. But because I was afraid, they would beat me even harder, creating a bad cycle.
So today, I ran away again, choosing to escape once more.
I knew I tended to avoid things, unable to face everything calmly and endure, making things worse.
Yes, running away from home wasn't a smart choice, because I would have to go back eventually. After all, I was just a high school sophomore, and my parents had to take care of everything for me, including my survival.
As I calmed down, I understood I would face more beatings and the usual punishments of facing the wall and kneeling all night.
Suddenly, a cool touch on my hand made me look up at the sky. It had started raining.
Only then did I realize I had unconsciously run quite far. No one on the street would bother looking at me anymore; they hurriedly passed by, seeming to mock my situation and making me feel lonely.
I stared at the raindrops falling on the ground, not wanting to move. Even though I was wearing several layers of clothes, I hadn't had time to put on a coat before leaving, and the rain in this northern city made me feel chilly quickly.
"Maybe freezing to death like this wouldn't be so bad..."
"Haha, obviously you won't freeze to death. You fool!"
Talking to myself, it felt like there was another me mocking me in my mind. With a wave of tiredness, accompanied by a chilling feeling all over my body, I curled up by the roadside, leaning against a lamppost. My consciousness gradually sank into darkness in a blur.
...
I didn't know how much time had passed, but it seemed my whole body was soaked. In a daze, I suddenly heard a voice calling out.
"Hey, are you okay?"
Who was calling me? I looked up in confusion, seeing a myriad of colors. Upon closer inspection, it was an umbrella, held by a boy squatting in front of me.
"Who... are you?"
He looked about the same age as me, with an extremely handsome face that somehow gave off a slightly ruffian vibe. At this moment, he was looking at me with a concerned expression.
I couldn't help but furrow my brow, completely unable to understand the situation. This unfamiliar face, although mixed with a strange sense of familiarity, was definitely someone I had never seen. What was going on?
The boy seemed to pause when he saw my expression. His gaze fixed on me for a while, then he made a surprisingly unexpected move – he raised the umbrella over my head, exposing himself to the rain.
What the heck? I was stunned by this action!
"It's okay; I just saw you crouching here."
He gave me a bright smile. When I saw that smile, it felt as if my heart had touched something, something very distant, extremely vague, but unforgettable. I couldn't seem to forget that feeling for a long time.
"Do... do you need any help?"
"Thanks, no need!"
Clearly, I didn't know him at all, so why did he suddenly come over to care for me? Although it felt strange, I still responded politely.
As a man in his teens, I thought there shouldn't be kidnappers or human traffickers targeting me. However, looking at his umbrella, then at his face, I shivered, suddenly more alert.
This place wasn't suitable for staying long; I should slip away quickly. Moreover, it seemed late now, and if I returned home any later, tonight's punishment might be even more unbearable.
Ignoring my thoroughly wet clothes, I stood up, pushing away the umbrella he held over my head, and ran towards home in the rain.
What a weird person.
Behind me, it seemed like the guy didn't leave, still holding the umbrella in the rain, staring in the direction I left with a dazed expression.
I couldn't help but run faster...
Three days later.
In the school classroom, after the morning reading session, the class teacher pushed open the door in a hurry and walked in, creating a lively atmosphere.
"Today, we have a new student in our class. Let's welcome him with applause!"
I looked up at the person on the podium, my face filled with incredulity, my eyes with a hint of confusion.
"My name is Reilly..."
He looked at me, the same handsome face, but now with a confident expression, introducing himself to the whole class. Our eyes unintentionally met, and in that moment, I seemed to read a deep, meaningful smile.