I was born in a relatively remote mountain, where the people were simple farmers who would gather in the big yard after a busy day's work in the fields. Of course, there are also some pornographic jokes and the like, so I have known about sex for a long time. When I was five years old, I started calling the little girl in the neighborhood my wife, and at that time our most popular game was playing house.

I'm ten years old, I've always been well-behaved, and I seem to be more sensible than other children in my age. The academic performance has always been among the best, and it rarely worries my parents. It's just that sometimes something that only adults would say came out of my mouth, and it would surprise adults.

When I was in the sixth grade, the girl secretly wrote "love letters" (small notes) and put them in my school bag. Just because she wanted me to help her during the exam. This has always been something I am very proud of, because every time I go home in the afternoon after an exam, I can go home with a beautiful girl in the envy of many people. That's what I thought was the most NB thing at the time.

When I was twelve, I wanted to figure out one thing, and one thing I've been thinking about since I was five, and it's been bothering me for a long, long time. I have asked my mother and teacher more than once, but I have never been able to find an answer from them. The question is: What is the difference between boys and girls, and why do they have to go to the toilet separately?

This kind of problem also bothered the girl, so one day the girl and I met in a remote place, we stripped each other naked, and finally we both knew what we wanted to know, and finally understood the difference between a boy and a girl. All of a sudden, everything made sense of what had been bothering us for years, and the girl and I were very happy, and we jumped, hugged, laughed, and screamed. Suddenly, the girl's mother fell from the sky, and the girl and I were stunned, and the girl's mother raised her hand and gave me two slaps, and pulled the girl and scolded her for being a cheap product. I came home late that night, and as soon as I got home, I saw that the girl's family was in her own house, and she was arguing with her parents about something. Dad couldn't help but say that pulling me was a violent beating, this is the hardest time I can remember, let my dad beat me the hardest, and the wound on my body will still be faintly painful after half a month. I was twelve years old and the girl was ten.

Since then, many friends have stopped playing with me, and everywhere my parents and I go, there will be people pointing fingers behind my back. During this period, my father became very violent, I was often beaten inexplicably, and my mother often cried alone. In the middle of the night, I sometimes couldn't sleep, but when I woke up, I saw my father, who never smoked, smoking a cigarette and discussing something helplessly with my mother.

The girl was transferred to another class, and my grades plummeted. At the end of the semester, my dad announced a big decision to the family: to move the family away and go to a far away place. I really wanted to see the girl again, but in exchange for a beating from my father. I couldn't figure out why people were doing this to me and why our family was moving, when the girl and I didn't really do anything.

I arrived in a new place and started another new beginning. But I've changed, I've become less talkative, I've become more like to be alone in a daze. As long as there is nothing I do, I will lock myself in my room, and I will carefully open a small iron box and open a secret that only I know. This secret will have much to do with the rest of my life......