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发帖数: 461 | 1 【 以下文字转载自 Prose 讨论区 】
发信人: echofield (飞), 信区: Prose
标 题: Valerian Ocean Chapter 6 (1)
发信站: BBS 未名空间站 (Mon Jun 13 22:18:43 2011, 美东)
前面的章节在这里，欢迎大家提意见。
http://www.jjwxc.net/onebook.php?novelid=1194154
I haven’t mentioned my brother for quite a while. After that summer, I wasn
’t sure if I ever had a brother. He disappeared in my life. After he
graduated from college, my dad found him a very promising position in the
government. He declined the offer and went to Shenzhen to find a job, an
insignificant position, according to my dad. I can tell that my dad was
heart-broken. He had invested a lot to plan my brother’s life and when he
was about to harvest his investments, my brother disappeared. He rarely
visited home. This year, he didn't even go back home for the spring festival.
After we visited Huaqing’s home, we all returned to my home to play games.
I had two game machines, which were purchased in Hongkong by my dad’s
friends. Game machines were such a rare thing. Wenyan and Huaqing loved them
. But I never liked it. What can I say? Grass is always greener on your
neighbor's land. After a few runs of games, Wenyan had completely revived.
In the middle of a game, Wenyan's mother arrived my home. Guess what? Wenyan
just left with her mom in a hurry. See, children never win a fight with
their parents. In addition, we always become the people our parents warned
us about. Seeing them leaving, I felt being lucky. At least, my dad never
slapped me. No..No..I shouldn’t have said that. My mom told me that you
invite bad luck if you say you are lucky.
By the end of the spring semester, I was thrilled to find out that one of my
stories was accepted for publication in a journal. It was a silly love
story about a girl who secretly fell in love with a boy who also secretly
fell in love with her. I brought that news to her father happily. My dad
said: “Qingna, I am so proud of you. When I was at your age, I was only
half as accomplished as you.” Oh, no. Whenever he said things as sweet as
this, I would end up doing things in his way. I reinforced my idea: “I
think my decision to study social science is apparently a good one.”“But I
still think you should study science.”“Dad, all the teachers of
literature liked my writing. See, one of my stories will be published soon.
”“...on a teenager's journal.”“...I am talented in writing. My skills in
writing can give me a good future.”“You are not talented in writing. Any
kids who read as much as you do can write as beautifully as you do.” He
said the same thing to my brother. He told him that if any kids had his art
teacher, they would produce beautiful painting too. I resented his way to
manipulate us. “Why are you doing this to me? Why?”“Doing what?“
Convincing me that I am not good at anything. You always destroy our
confidence first, then you control us. You did this to my brother. Do you
think he is happy now?”“The truth is you are too young to be truly good at
something.”“I know myself. I am good at writing. I just know it.”“Prove
it to me.” Here came a trap, but I was too young to recognize it. “How?”
I was too eager to prove myself. I jumped right into the trap. “You wrote
many beautiful stories about many extraordinary people, who cannot be seen
in our daily lives. I want you to write someone who is ordinary. I want you
to write some extraordinary sides of an ordinary person.”“I can do that.
Everybody has an extraordinary side.“No fictions. I want real life stories.
I will give you an address. I want to you interview someone. After you
interviewed this person, write a story about this person. You need to
capture both ordinary and extraordinary sides of this person.”For a moment
that I even forgave my father for what he did to my brother. Maybe he also
gave my brother opportunities to prove his skills and my brother failed to
convince him. I knew I can do it. There is nobody who I cannot write about.
The good thing about being hollow was that you lost all your common senses,
you took no sides and you can contain anything. |
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