Dad said to the head teacher, "You don't know what to do with me." Then he turned to my uncle and said, "Surround him." As he spoke, he pointed to his "mentally retarded" father. My uncles and uncles were just around him, just around him, the whole office fell silent, and the "mentally handicapped" father asked in a trembling voice: "What do you want to do, this is the school." The head teacher also interjected beside him: "Father Li Yang, if you have something to say, we will solve it peacefully." I looked sarcastically at the head teacher's hypocritical and feeble words.

My dad still calmly said, "It's okay, settle it peacefully." ”

My uncles and uncles were still around him, still just around him, staring at him all the time. The "mentally handicapped" father began to slowly find that he had no choice but to remain silent and bow his head, but the "mentally handicapped" mother began to be uncalm and began to slap my group of muscular uncles and uncles. At this time, my father opened his mouth and said to the head teacher: "Look, their parents have started beating people, should we call the police to deal with this matter, and then go to the hospital to check the injury, find a CT, X-ray or something, and see if it has injured my brother." ”

The head teacher didn't seem to have seen this kind of scene, so he said that he would call the principal and ask the principal to come forward to solve it, and my father saw that the goal had been achieved, so he said, "Forget it, they should know how to solve the matter, and if they can discuss it, they don't need to trouble the principal." After saying that, the uncles and uncles dispersed, and the head teacher also breathed a sigh of relief.

In the end, the family was unconvinced but helpless to accept the reconciliation, and he and I finally shook hands in my smugness and his dissatisfaction.

On the way home, Dad didn't speak all the way, Mom too, we remained silent all the way, as if nothing had happened, and when we got home, Mom cooked, Dad watched TV, and I did my homework.

During the meal, my father suddenly asked me, "Did you do a good job today." ”

I was also puzzled: "Dad, didn't you say that fighting is not a good child, didn't you say that violence can't solve the problem?" ”

Dad replied to me: "Of course, violence can't solve the problem, and it's not the only way to solve the problem, but when you are bullied and can't choose other ways, you can use the violence to the maximum, so that the people who bully you no longer dare to bully you, and in the same way, if you bully others, and others hurt you, I won't care about you, that's what you deserve." Violence doesn't solve problems, but it does solve the people who create them. ”

Sure enough, the news soon spread to the whole school, and those who usually like to have nothing to do began to stay away from our class, and they didn't even dare to collide with me, which made us very comfortable and at ease in the last time. And the head teacher seems to have been asked for an explanation by the "mentally retarded" head teacher after I was deflated. Of course, what does that have to do with me?

Luo Luo laughed out loud: "No wonder, you learned this from your father, I didn't expect our classmate Li Li to have such an amazing history." I looked at her and smiled, and she immediately changed her words: "Oh! No, it's Li Yang." ”

Rollo pointed to the backpack with the ingredients on the side, and looked at me expectantly: "I'm hungry." I got up and touched her head, set up a rack on the fire, and took out our pot, which was filled with some ingredients and mineral water, and while the hot pot was boiling, I took out a large foam box from my backpack, which contained all the ingredients that had been processed, and the ice cubes that had not yet melted completely, and I put the ingredients on and put them beside me to roast her.

She watched me finish all this with anticipation, and I was about to sit down, when she handed me another can of beer and asked, "Can I continue listening?" I smiled and looked at her, looking at the bubbling hot pot with "Gurr" and said.

Summer vacation finally came, my cousin came as I had hoped, the script went as I had hoped, and for the second time I went to the place that my parents thought was filthy but I thought was heaven. Familiar shocking music, hypnotic flickering lights, and the seductive demon pact. That's right, I took beer as a demonic contract, I sold my soul to it, it was the pleasure I got that I craved, and as I said before, I was once again dominated by desire.

Like a cat stealing fish, I slowly groped for the world I had never been exposed to under this stimulating feeling, my cousin handed me a cigarette, I didn't refuse, I heard that the first time I smoked, I would choke. I didn't, and I later learned that I wasn't really inhaling. But I have the capital to brag with my classmates, and a group of children together is nothing more than a game, comparison, and bragging. This is not the world it should be, although I don't want to admit it, but the fact is that this filthy world is real, and children who should be pure as white paper should have an innocent smile, and it was also many years later that I learned that school is actually a small society, there are so-called good people, there are so-called bad people, no matter age, no matter how big or small, both sides of human nature will always exist. Some people say that a child is like a mirror, reflecting the appearance of his parents, but in fact, I don't think so, the child is indeed like a mirror, but what he reflects is not the appearance of his parents, but what he touches, what his perspective can see, is the most real reflection of his mirror.

The teacher said that things gather like and people are divided into groups, but she also said that everyone is equal, and we should not divide people into three, six, nine and so on. In the sixth grade, the so-called graduating class, every teacher's expression looked more serious, and I never liked that kind of serious expression anyway, since the moment I started to get out of the world of books. I don't know why I have to write an essay with the same title every year, and the only difference may be the number of words. I'm still writing about the school I want to go to and the same great ambition to become a scientist after graduation as I did for the previous five years. It's just that at this time, I knew that my dream when I was a child was a glorious goal assumed under the step-by-step guidance of my parents and teachers, and that was not my real dream, but I still wrote it, because I knew that only by writing like this could I achieve the feeling of having great ambitions that my teachers wanted, and I could reassure my parents that I was still so ambitious. I began to learn how to please people who could deprive me of my happiness. Of course, I know that the dream I wrote about has vanished with that glass of wine.

I thought that this essay could be appreciated and commented on by the teacher as usual, but the result was that the review was there, and the praise became a good and lofty sentence. At first I didn't understand this esoteric word, but later, when a small part of our bad students started not turning in their homework, I gradually understood why the teacher would say it to me. When we started to slowly not hand in our homework, the teacher didn't bother to care about us, and began to use the proverb of a pot of rat droppings to spoil a pot of soup to describe us, and began to ask the classmates in the class not to play with us, that is, the class leader secretly told us that the teacher had given up on us. I don't understand why the teacher who keeps saying that everyone is equal and has no class treats us like this, just because he doesn't hand in his homework, or because he can't see expectations in us, but didn't she tell those who don't hand in their homework in the past that if she can get as good as me every time, she doesn't care if she doesn't hand in homework every time, my grades are still so good, why is it different from what she said, didn't she teach us to be honest. Questions that seemed simple later on, but they took root in my young heart with countless roots of confusion and disgust. Since she chose to give up, then why should I try any harder.

Approaching graduation, there was bad news in the class, because I had heard that the teacher was dissuading some of the third-class students in the class, and I was not among them, probably because I thought I could still be saved. That weekend, I left the small county town to take the entrance exam for a private junior high school in the city, and although I had passed many junior high school exams and was successfully admitted, my mother still brought me to the examination room, seemingly unwilling to let go of any opportunity. We were woken up by the ringing of our mobile phones at six o'clock in the morning on the day of the exam, and my mother hung up the phone and told me that there was nothing to do to let me continue to sleep, and I chose to sleep for the exam.

After a day of exams, I also walked out of the exam room tired.

"You have a classmate this week, and you can't see it. ”

"Oh, it's the ones who were persuaded to quit. ”

"No, it's Lai Li Jin. ”

"Ah, did he change schools?"

"That call this morning was from his mother asking the head teacher, who had a fever last night and was sleepwalking and jumping off the building. ”

I was silent because I didn't know what I should say, I didn't know what kind of attitude I should use to face this matter, just like when I came home four years ago, my mother was not there and my grandmother told me that my cousin had fallen from the fourteenth floor, I didn't know what kind of attitude I should use to face it, I was only silent, my mind was blank.

When I returned to class on Monday, my classmates didn't know about it yet, and they were all curious about why this good student, who had the same grades as me, was late. In the morning reading class, the teacher announced the bad news and asked us to continue the morning reading, however, this may be the first time in the class that we collectively disobeyed the teacher's order, we did not continue, we were all silent, the bell rang after class, covering up the sobs of the men and women in the class, I don't know who was the first to break the silence, I just remember that I didn't cry. I never thought that life was so fragile, once when I came home from school, I was running across the road and was hit by a motorcycle, my schoolbag was cushioned on my back, except for a slight swelling pain in the place where I was hit, I didn't feel any discomfort, I thought that every soul was very strong.

He was gone, and with my last dreams, and I think the last fun left of my last messy elementary school years was to compare myself with him after every exam and after the results were sent. I started to feel awe of life, I started to value my time, I started to feel like I should do something, I didn't know what to do, I just felt like I should do something.