查看完整版本: [story] Mother

[story] Mother

PART 1<br/>It is raining outside. <br/><br/>The rain hits onto the window. At first there is one drop sticking on the window. Then there is another drop… and another drop… Finally the small droplets become a large one, and it slides down along the window. <br/><br/>I am counting the raindrops. <br/><br/>I look at the window blankly. I count the raindrops mechanically. <br/><br/>There is a swimming pool outside our house. How would it feel if I just jump into it? Would I catch pneumonia this way? I wish I were dead.<br/><br/>Mrs. Anderson knocks on the door and comes in with a cup of tea. “Darling,” she says, “Have some tea. Why would you torture yourself by sitting in front of the window, alas?” <br/><br/>I say nothing. I keep on counting the raindrops. <br/><br/>Mrs. Anderson sighs again, and she closes the door for me. <br/><br/>Mrs. Anderson is a nice person, but she wouldn’t understand… How would she understand it? I don’t even understand it myself…<br/><br/>Another drop on the window. <br/><br/>This rain doesn’t seem to end. What if the rain turns red one day? My mother used to tell me that if a person cries too much, then the tear would become blood. If the sky has been crying for such a long time, would the rain turn red too? <br/><br/>Oh, mother, do you know?<br/><br/>I am staring at the window. I wish I could just sit here staring at the window like this for my entire life. <br/><br/>Oh, my entire life! How long would that be! <br/><br/>I am only seventeen. <br/><br/>I wish I were seventy. Then tomorrow I might be dead. <br/><br/>Would there be any difference for me as a dead person? My heart is already dead. <br/><br/>Oh, mother, do you know?<br/><br/>PART 2<br/>They called me back when it was too late.<br/><br/>I was sent to a boarding school in Britain when my mother married Sir Lo ten years ago. I remembered the wedding day: my mother wore that pretty beige dress. Her hair was styled as a bun. There was a pearl necklace around her neck. I had never seen her that beautiful before. She was the most beautiful lady on that day. <br/><br/>I didn’t feel unhappy for her second marriage. She had the right to be happy. Sir Lo was a kind gentleman. He was rich and he was nice. Even I was only seven that year, I knew that Sir Lo would care for and love my mother. <br/><br/>After the wedding, I asked them if I could study in Britain. The adults were obviously very shocked that a seven-year-old kid would say such words. But I had a classmate who would soon immigrate to Britain, so I know that I could study there as well.<br/><br/>Mother didn’t want me to go to Britain, so I stopped eating and just sat in front of the window. After two days she gave up. Mother loved me more than herself.<br/><br/>She came into my room and sat down on my tiny bed, “Lily, are you trying to protect me?” Her voice was full of sadness.<br/><br/>We hugged together for a long time. And soon I left for Britain.<br/><br/>My mother was Mrs. Lo now. It would be embarrassing for her to have a daughter with the surname Chow. Besides, I would not be happy living together with the three kids of Sir Lo. I was certain that I had done a right thing. <br/><br/>The three kids of Sir Lo were about fifteen to twenty years old. Although they seemed nice to me on the wedding, who knows if they would put a frog in my backpack some day? <br/><br/>Sir Lo chose a school in a quiet neighborhood for me. He said to me, “You’re a courageous child, Lily.” During the school days I lived in the dormitory, but during weekends I lived in the house prepared by Sir Lo. The housekeeper was Mrs. Anderson. Mother usually visited me when it was holiday, and we would travel around Europe. <br/><br/>I kept all the souvenirs we bought in a big box. It was my treasure. <br/><br/>Every year when I sent back my school report, Sir Lo would send me a bouquet. A photo of mother and me was always attached with the flowers. Behind the photo he wrote, “I’m very proud of you. Love, Albert” <br/><br/>Sir Lo was a nice gentleman.<br/><br/>PART 3<br/>But even a gentleman could not live forever. After marrying my mother for six years, Sir Lo passed away. <br/><br/>One day in class I was called out. Mrs. Anderson came to the school and handed me a telegraph. It said that Sir Lo was very ill and asked me to go back immediately. Mrs. Anderson had already bought me a ticket and packed my luggage. In the airport she told me, “Be courageous, Lady.”<br/><br/>Sir Lo was lying on the bed when I saw him. He was thinner than before but he still looked neat and tidy. <br/><br/>“My child, you’re your mother and my angel.” he said. <br/><br/>I held his hand. <br/><br/>He continued saying, “You protected your mother by sacrificing yourself. But I’ll soon compensate your loss…”<br/><br/>“I don’t mind, as long as mother is happy. And I know she’s happy with you. Will you keep her happy too?”<br/><br/>“I wish I could…” he closed his eyes, “One afternoon I saw Beatrice in a tea party. There was a maple tree and she was standing under it. She was wearing a white dress and the red shades reflected on her… I couldn’t forget her afterwards…”<br/><br/>Three days later Sir Lo passed away. Mother became a widow. <br/><br/>Sir Lo left half of his wealth to mother and me. The three kids of Sir Lo got the other half.<br/><br/>I returned back to Britain after the funeral was over. <br/><br/>Mrs. Anderson picked me up in the airport. She was now my housekeeper. Sir Lo had given me the house in Britain. <br/><br/>But I didn’t feel happy at all.<br/><br/>I kept worrying about mother – who would take care of her now? <br/><br/>Mother chose to stay in Hong Kong. She said she didn’t want to alter my life in Britain. <br/><br/>We kept writing to each other. I always read her letter twice before I put it back into the envelope. And then I would read it again before I slept. <br/><br/>My roommate always thought it was a secret love letter. And I always smiled as a reply.<br/><br/>PART 4<br/>Mother liked writing about arts and music. In her letter she would say, “I went to a concert yesterday, the violin concerto was very smooth and sad.” Or “I learnt making pottery today, but it was too fragile and it broke after I took it out from the oven.” <br/><br/>On the other hand, I always wrote with the slightest detail of my life. Sometimes I felt like I was writing a dairy instead of a letter, but I still filled up every page with “I had a burger at school today, but they put pickle in it again…” or “During geography class today, I learnt that Papua New Guinea is a country near Australia…”<br/><br/>We both filled our lonely lives with endless letters.<br/><br/>The first time I didn’t travel with mother during school break was two years ago. I took an archaeology class and there was a field trip in Turkey during summer vacation. <br/><br/>I wrote to mother, and expressed that I was very sorry. She told me to enjoy myself and wished me good luck in digging a piece of fossil. <br/><br/>Of course I didn’t dig a piece of fossil that summer. But my skin was tanned after staying under the sun for fifty days. <br/><br/>My schoolwork had become busier and busier. The public exam was coming soon. <br/><br/>Mother’s letters were less and less frequent, but I was too busy to complain anything. <br/><br/>After I had finished the exam of the last subject, a telegraph was already waiting for me.<br/><br/>It simply stated, “Mother ill. Be back.”<br/><br/>I couldn’t feel the sunlight any more at that moment.<br/><br/>Mrs. Anderson held my shoulders and said, “Be courageous, Lady.”<br/><br/>Yes, I could not but be courageous at that moment. I nodded, took my passport and got on the plane. <br/><br/>Twelve hours of flight was as long as twenty years. <br/><br/>I couldn’t sleep at all. And I couldn’t eat either. I picked up a magazine to read, but every word was jumping in front of my eyes.<br/><br/>I threw up on the plane. And I cried, “Mother, mother…” <br/><br/>The plane finally landed. I almost rushed out to the airport. A car was waiting for me. I couldn’t wait to see mother.<br/><br/>PART 5<br/><br/>But it was too late. They already covered mother with a white cloth.<br/><br/>I became hysterical and I screamed, “Let me see her! She’s my mother! She’s my mother!” They stopped me and I started kicking. <br/><br/>“She’s my mother! She’s my mother!” I kept on screaming until they gave me an injection.<br/><br/>Once I woke up, I started screaming again. <br/><br/>She is my mother. And how could they just take her away from me? Just like that?<br/><br/>She gave birth to me. And what should I do now, when she has left me forever?<br/><br/>Oh, mother, do you know? Do you know?<br/><br/>Mother’s funeral was on a warm afternoon. There were maple trees around the cemetery. The red shades were reflected on her. <br/><br/>I couldn’t forget her forever and ever.<br/><br/>I returned back to Britain. Mrs. Anderson was waiting for me in the airport. She wore black that day.<br/><br/>We arrived back at the house. I wanted to find a place to sit, but I didn’t know where I should sit. Finally, I went back to my room and sat in front of the window.<br/><br/>Since then, I have been sitting in front of the window. <br/><br/>Mrs. Anderson knocks on the door every day and brings me some tea. But I always leave the tea untouched. <br/><br/>I like looking at the window. A pale shadow is reflected on the glass, and I could see my mother. <br/><br/>It is still raining. <br/><br/>Would the rain turn red one day? <br/><br/>But my heart is already bleeding. <br/><br/>Oh, mother, do you know?<br/><br/>Mother. <br/><br/>

<p>Pity..</p>[em06]

<p>Why death always is around her?</p><p>Is it a ture story?</p>

um, er, no, not a true story<br/>