I distinctly remember that before I was 9 years old, my mom and dad regarded me as a jewel in the palm of my hand, and my life was carefree and full of joy.
But since my mother and father went to wuhan hospital, my life has not been as good as before, and my parents came back at night. To be honest, in my young mind, my favorite was my mother.
Until I was eight or nine years old, every time my mother came back from out of town, I would throw my arms out into her arms and spoil her.
However, this time, my mother not only did not take me into her arms as before, but instead made a face, as if she did not see me, and pulled me to my father's leg with her hand, and she went straight to the room, and I was dumbfounded...
In the days after that, whether I came back from school or ate at home, my mother always saw me with a gloomy face, and even when she was talking and laughing with others, I squeezed in front of her, and the smile on her face immediately disappeared like a soap bubble.
The first time Mom hit me was more than ten days after she came back...
I thought my mother was not at home, so I called out to my mother loudly. At this time, my mother came out of the back room with her messy hair, cursed me in a vicious voice, and dragged me into the house with my arm, asking me to cook my own food. I looked at my fierce mother and sobbed. My mother actually picked up the spatula and spanked my ass, and viciously said: "It won't burn, I will teach you!" ”
She saw that I was not moving, and then raised the spatula and beat me a little, at this time I found her breathless, as if she was going to fall, I began to blame myself a little, maybe I made her angry like this, busy according to her instructions, scooping rice, washing vegetables, opening the gas canister... In this way, under her "command", I cooked the rice for the first time.
What made me even more incomprehensible was that she also instigated her father to give me less money. In the past, I used to have 1 yuan for breakfast every day and 1 yuan for Chinese food. From that day on, she reduced my breakfast to 5 dimes and didn't give me a penny at noon.
I said I didn't have enough to eat in the morning, and I had to eat at least two steamed buns every morning. She said that when she was studying, breakfast was only two dimes. She also said that she would come home to eat at noon when she was hungry, and would only give 5 dimes later, telling me not to be delusional about asking for 1 yuan.
As for the 1 yuan at noon, it should not be asked for, and it is a waste to go completely to eat snacks. In this way, I can only stand on the side and swallow saliva every day.
I hated my mother, she cut off my financial resources, she separated me from my children.
My suffering was much more than that, and since my dad was working in the field, I could only be with my mom. Several times, I cried to go with dad, who touched my head to comfort me, and he said he was running and moving, and in a month, he would be back. If you can't go with your father, you have to be at the mercy of your mother.
After a while, my mother didn't even cook the dishes. I cried that I couldn't cook well, and she took the spatula and beat me up, and scolded me: "What are you born to do, this can't be done, that can't be done, it's better to be a pig and dog beast." ”
Under her "guidance", I learned to cook again.
On the day his father was transferred back, he urged his mother to be admitted to the hospital, and he also asked the unit for a long vacation. I went to visit mom on the first Sunday in the hospital, and mom was having an infusion and was already asleep. Dad stepped forward softly and whispered in her ear that I had come to see her.
She immediately opened her eyes and asked her father to help her up and sit her down. At first there was a hint of a smile on her face, and then her face turned black and she pointed with her fingers: "You roll for me, you roll for me!" ”
Suddenly, remembering all her harshness on me, I twisted my head and ran downstairs angrily, I vowed not to have this mother again in this life.
Three months later, mom died of liver cancer. At the funeral, I didn't shed a single tear. When receiving the spirit, if it were not for my father pressing me to kneel on the ground, I would not have knelt down.
Three years later, I had my stepmother.
Even though my stepmother usually didn't pay much attention to me, I always felt that she was better than my birth mother.
That day I overheard a conversation between my stepmother and dad. My father insisted on giving me one yuan a day for breakfast, but my stepmother said that when the child was older, it was when he grew up, so he was given two yuan a day for breakfast.
The next day, I did get two dollars.
I started to like my stepmother, and in addition to her increasing my breakfast bill, there was another layer where I came home from school every day without having to cook on the fire. Sometimes my stepmother was busy at work and went to work early, and she always left me meals and dishes.
Sometimes, despite the leftovers, I don't complain at all, and the scene of a cold pot and a cold stove is many times stronger than when my birth mother was alive.
My relationship with my stepmother was further enhanced when she once had a cold. She burned so badly that day that I got a doctor for her, and after the infusion, she was slightly better. She forced herself out of bed to cook, and I stopped her.
I boiled her a bowl of fish soup and made two dishes that she liked to eat, and she was very impressed. In the evening, my stepmother praised me in front of my father as a smart and well-behaved child.
When I was 15 years old, I was fortunate enough to be admitted to a prestigious high school in the county. Dad and stepmother were very happy. But Dad was worried, and the tuition fee had not yet been settled. The stepmother said firmly that there was no money to make up first, and as long as the boy could read the book, I would find a way to find out how much money I wanted.
At this time, Dad suddenly slapped his head on the door, rushed into the house and took out a small aluminum box from the box, the aluminum box was locked, he said, this is my mother left before she died.
He told me, "Your mother told me before she died that this aluminum box would not be opened until you were in high school. ”
I shook my head disdainfully, turned around and left, and my father angrily told me to come back: "It's not easy for your mother to raise you with a handful of shit and a handful of urine, no matter how much you hate her, you should take a look." ”
The stepmother also said dad was right. In desperation, I had to take the aluminum box and go into my room. I twisted the lock and opened it. Inside the aluminum box were several pieces of paper full of words, and under the paper was a savings passbook. I unfolded the paper, and the familiar handwriting jumped into view:
child:
When you read this suicide note, your mother has been buried for six years, and if your mother really has a soul, then it is even if your mother herself told you.
Do you remember, the day your father and I came back from Wuhan, you pounced on me, I really wanted to pick up my son and kiss me well, but when I thought of the results of the hospital examination, my mother's heart trembled, and my mother was terminally ill.
When I was in Wuhan, your father had to ask me to be hospitalized, and the first thing I thought of was that my son was still young, so I didn't live.
My mother will soon die, but my son's road has only begun, I used to spoil my son too much, what my son wants, my mother will give, I am worried that after I die, my son will not live a life, will compare my mother with my stepmother, that would be a bad thing.
Therefore, I made up my mind to find a way to make my son hate me, and the more I hated, the better.
How willing my mother was to beat me! Son is the flesh of the mother's heart, you grow so big, my mother has not played a finger of my son.
But for my son to learn to cook and live a life, my mother picked up the spatula and beat my son.
I know how many tears my mother secretly shed when you went to pan rice...
In order to look at my son more, when I got up in the middle of the night every day to take medicine, I sat on the side of my bed for half an hour and touched my whole body... In particular, I slapped my son's ass twice, and I looked at it specifically, and although there was no bruise, I still touched it over and over again.
Son, before I died, your grandmother raised 5,000 yuan and sent it to me for treatment, and I entrusted someone to secretly save this money.
Your grandmother urged me to buy medicine several times, and I pushed that I had bought a new medicine.
At present, can this money, including interest, be enough to pay for high school and college tuition?
If it is not enough, my son is also older, and he can work and earn money on his own.
After reading my mother's suicide note, tears blurred my eyes, and I finally understood my mother's cold eyes, scolding, and ruthlessness, all for my future self-reliance!
I cried bitterly and rushed out of the house, and I ran and cried, "... My good mother! ”
Shouted all the way to my mother's grave.
In front of my mother's grave, I couldn't stand on my knees...
People have this mentality, children who have suffered, they will not feel bitter in the future, but if they eat sweetness, they will feel very happy.
On the contrary, children who are pampered from an early age will often be blessed in the blessings, and they are accustomed to eating sweet, so they cannot experience the happiness of sweetness, but if they eat bitterness, they will be bitter and unbearable.
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