After I went to elementary school, I saw that writing was no longer perfunctory, and I wanted to make a name for myself by reading.

My mother was helping my aunt take care of the children in those years, and she came back to see me a few times, sometimes for a few days. When I went to see her, it was a luxury.

The uncle relied on his grandfather's connections to work in a unit in the town, which facilitated his appointments. Sometimes he was happy and would give me some money, most of the time it was one piece, and sometimes it was five at most. Occasionally, when he returned to the county seat, he would take me with him to find my mother.

I thought I could let him take me with him as long as he went back. Once I missed my mom so much that I glued a wallet full of small red flowers and wanted to give it to her. When I stood in front of my uncle with joy, he sent me away for a dollar and told me that he had something to do and could not take me there.

On the way back, I was in tears, in order not to let people see it, I kept my head down, passing by the baked cake stall, and I didn't answer when my grandfather called me.

The eldest aunt was only in her early 20s, and she was arranged to meet many times, but none of them succeeded. For this matter, grandma scolded her all day long, and finally, in the grandmother's many times "You don't look at what you look like?" and "If you drag it any longer, you will be dragged into an old girl!" and other obvious ridicule, the eldest aunt angrily chose the last blind date, a short Ba Ba Yan cook.

On my aunt's wedding day, my mother took me and a group of neighbors to get on a tractor with a dowry and sent me off on a bumpy ride.

The wedding banquet was held for three days, and the next day, my parents could go, my mother went back, and my grandmother and I stayed.

It may be that I haven't let go of eating for too long, or my aunt is getting married, and she is not as restrained as before. It wasn't enough to eat three bowls of rice that night, so when the rice was gone, I ran to the kitchen and asked for noodles to eat. Grandma was afraid that I would be able to eat, so she wouldn't let me. I cried and shouted in front of so many people: "I don't have enough to eat!"

This became a joke among many people present, and when they met me again, they would always make fun of me about my predicament at that time.

That day also became the beginning of my nightmare.

Because many of the guests didn't leave, accommodation became a problem, and I was arranged to sleep with my eldest uncle's eldest brother's eldest brother's house.

Even though I was seven or eight years old, I still wet the bed, ate and drank well that night, and had a good night's sleep.

The next morning, sure enough, I wet the bed, and I peed through it along with my underwear. The two girls went to look for my old pants, and as soon as I stepped out of the door, the beast came over.

He put his hand under the quilt, the cold touch made me shiver, and finally the whole palm stayed somewhere in mine, and his eyes made me creep. I subconsciously dodged, but his other palm caressed my back, and I couldn't break free at all. I was so frightened that I shouted out, "Sister, have you found it?" Fortunately, not long after, the two sisters came in with a pair of pants that they had worn before.

At the time, I knew it was a bad thing, but I didn't know it was sexual assault.

When I knew it was sexual assault, I didn't mention it to anyone after all. I don't want to destroy the existing harmony in my aunt's family because of something that has been gone for a long time and there is no evidence. I can't imagine if my father believed me, he would have rushed over and killed him.

But this has happened to me more than once.

When I was in elementary school, I started to gain weight, and I developed early, and I had my period at the age of ten. At that time, even if my eldest aunt was married, she was working outside to help pay off the family's debts, my younger aunt worked in the silk reeling factory in the city, and my grandmother also went to other people's homes to work as a nanny to take care of the children, and I lived with my grandfather and great-grandmother for a long time. So no one taught me what kind of underwear I should wear when I was developed, and even when I first came to my period, I was too ashamed to speak, so I found a few pieces of cloth and put them on my underwear.

The toilet at school was still a long row of squatting pits, and I didn't dare to go to the toilet between classes for a few days. One day between classes,, jumping and jumping, the cloth head leaked out of the wide school uniform trouser leg, and I was so embarrassed that I stuffed the cloth head into my trouser pocket while no one found out.

In the end, it was my grandfather's sister who found out, and I learned how to use sanitary napkins correctly.

There is a middle-aged man in the village who mends shoes in the town, and sometimes the shoes are not badly damaged, and he doesn't need money to repair them. When he was a child, he was simple-minded and thought he was a good person.

I remember it was late autumn and I was wearing a cardigan pink sweater with buttons. Passing by the shoemaker's house after school, he stopped me.

"Ran'er, your sweater is so beautiful, who knitted it for you?" I thought he was really complimenting my sweater, so I answered honestly. He came suddenly, pulled my two schoolbag straps back with one hand, and caressed my chest with the other, gently pinching it through the pink sweater.

I didn't know where I got the strength at the time, or maybe the cobbler didn't dare to alarm others, so I broke free from him and ran home as fast as I could. The peach-colored sweater was dismantled into a ball of yarn by me and distributed to my friend to turn over the flower rope.

At the time, I still didn't think it was a problem, and I didn't know how to talk to adults.

The shoemaker, who was crushed to death by a fallen building in the street during the Wenchuan earthquake, along with the tricycle he was riding. There were so many people on the whole street, and he was the only one who was stoned to death.

Maybe that's retribution.

There is also a lame old man who participated in the Anti-Japanese War and received state subsidies, and his methods are exactly the same as that of this shoemaker. But his grandson, who was five years older than me, was much worse than he was.

It is also necessary to stay overnight for a wedding party. Adults thought that when I was seven or eight years old, I slept with anyone else, so I was arranged to share a room with their grandchildren, with the old man sharing a bed and me sharing a bed with my grandson.

The old man was drunk, and soon began to snore on the bed, so noisy that he could not sleep. My head was outward, my body was almost close to the edge of the bed, and my grandson kept moving closer to me. He suddenly hugged me, his whole body rubbing against me, and I freaked out and screamed at his grandfather. His grandfather was like dead, and no matter how loud I screamed, he didn't respond. My grandson said to me, "You can't wake him up when he's drunk!" and he became even more presumptuous, took off his pants, and wrapped his hands around my body, moving rhythmically behind my fart. I was wearing autumn pants, my head was also confused, I kept shaking, and finally I couldn't help crying. He heard me crying, paused, and then I broke free from his grasp, didn't even turn on the light, and ran out barefoot to find my grandmother.

Adults just think that I am young and not used to sleeping with others, but who would have thought that a teenager of twelve or thirteen would do such an act of animal behavior to a little girl of seven or eight years old.

It wasn't until I was in high school that I realized that after these things happened, I would still greet them politely when I saw them.

But now, I wish they were all dead!