One-way street

Author: Cotton Person
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2005-12-01
Features: I transformed into a butterfly with a little doubt about the world, a little confusion. At first, I was in the cocoon, not yet familiar with the rules of the, only knowing that black is black and white is white. But I was wrong. I overlooked the deep and shallow grays between black and white. Most things are only worth it when experienced firsthand, and only then can one say whether it's regrettable or not. During the last critical moment of my middle school to high school transition, I remember. I can never erase it. My mother's ability to secure a job at the grain depot was closely related to a person. This person was my grandmother's younger sister, whom we northern people call "auntie." She owned a brick factory in the small county and had a very prosperous business. I once worked there, hauling bricks for five cents a piece. I was already fifteen and a half years old at the time. I wasn't particularly developed, with dry, yellow hair that strangely glowed, and my chest pressed against my back. Girls my age were already beautiful and delicate, very charming. But I remained a tomboy—short, thin hair, always in my school uniform, a sky-blue outfit with three symmetrical thick white stripes, a zipper running from bottom to top, tight and secure. I had nothing, yet I was afraid of being looked at, my laundry-board-flat figure.
Do you remember wearing those shoes as a child? White, like dance shoes for practice, with an elastic band stretched across the surface to keep them in place, so they wouldn't fall off while walking or running. I was already very vain at a young age. When my shoes got dirty, I would soak them in blue ink mixed with tap water and then leave them in the shade to air dry naturally. I always carried a piece of chalk with me, rubbing it clean whenever it got dusty, as if it were always new, always. And what is forever? Forever is just a casual well-wish at the end of a letter. Where in the world is there such a thing as forever? If one must say there is, it would be death, to die, to sleep in peace—that is forever. Forever undisturbed.
The Zhongkao exams are coming soon. The entire third grade is in a state of preparation. The campus is always bustling with students rushing about, books in hand, rising early and staying up late, eating, sleeping, even hating to go to the bathroom without a book. Everyone is striving. I had already grown up, knowing the importance of the Zhongkao. Getting into a key high school meant securing a future path to university. That summer was always sweltering, the air as if frozen and still, pressing down so hard that it made breathing difficult. The cicadas on the trees chirped endlessly, their voices sighing, heavy. And then, what about Yan Qi? Yan Qi's life trajectory was so far removed from mine. He was in Kunming, also fifteen and a half years old. Were we born on the same day? In a warm and dry apartment in Kunming, Yan Qi would go out to play soccer every afternoon, then come home to shower. The water splashed onto his young skin, bouncing and spraying everywhere. His room—Art Section Refusal, Art Section Qualified, OL Chapter 3, Lazy Girl's Joyful Journey in the Workplace