The Fucking Book – Less Than Mystery – Part One – The Dwarf – Chapter Two(2)

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The Ladder To My World!

Less Than Mystery

Heather Cai

Chapter 2

 I was reluctant because more old memories appeared before my eyes as reflections in the water. {Click the link if you want to read the beginning of Chapter 2 }

* * * * *

One auntie, a child bride of my mother’s young brother, told me that I used to play with the dark gray charcoal in the wood-burning fireplace and a stove made of dirt. Every time when she came to see me, she would laugh and could hardly recognize me with the charcoal gray all over my body and my face. It was the year when my family were busy building the new dirt house and my mother asked her to take care of me. No one would care except her, so she would clean me up. She said I was so happy in the basin with the hot water. I could hardly walk, and barely remember, though.

I rarely remember the things that happened before five years old. Like I can’t remember, as I was told later, one day my father went to do farm work, my mother went to pick tea with my brother on her back and so did my old sister. Apart from me no one was at home. My mother dropped me in the kitchen to play with the gray charcoal and the dirty stove as always. When she came back, first she could hear me crying loudly from outside and then she saw a kettle had fallen on the floor and water was already running cold everywhere. I was bending on the dining table, standing on tiptoe upon a broken bench, both the palm of my left hand and the back of my right hand had reddened, bubbled and peeled.

With no memory of such an accident at all, I couldn’t help but asked, Did I, did I really cry? My mother instantly threw the words, Of course! It hurt and you were crying like hell. Then with an unusual tone, she added, Ever since that happened, you didn’t like eating on the table with us, never touched the kettle with boiled water again, strangely you were happy to sit on the floor and eat alone.

Strange girl you are, I was told more than once. And more than once, my mother said, when I was born, I didn’t cry like any other baby does, but I laughed. And she didn’t know why. Except for this and my tiny body, she believed I was healthy and nothing abnormal.

But none in the family smiled at me proudly. Maybe my father hated me for laughing when I was born, I guessed. It seemed as if all I could bring them was only shame as a dwarf and troubles that I caused endlessly, not even a stroke of good fortune.  {Click the link if you want to continue }

-To be continued…

Note*: I’m now on my summer trip (from Aug 6th to 23rd).  So I schedule some posts here and will respond to some comments when I can. Please DON’T go away! :)

PS:

If anyone who simply likes reading the words, the language, the story, or wants to know more about the character, the mysteries and my world, please feel free to like or comment. Any kind of remark will be highly appreciated.

If any agent or publisher, or anyone who has any connection with any agent or any publisher, would be interested in this Fucking Book, please contact this email:

FB.Heather@Outlook.com

Thank you so much!

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