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Yi An lived with grandpa and grandma throughout elementary school.
On that day in the first grade, I saw grandpa and grandma and the house I would live in for the next seven years for the first time. The memories photographed are all golden photos. The empty land in front of grandma’s door had not yet been built upon; it was patches of green, with mulberry leaves I needed to feed the silkworms, all green plants. Later, reinforced concrete gradually appeared there, then the green plants suddenly vanished, and later still, large houses suddenly sprang up from the ground; the sunlight that originally filled the empty land became gray, tall brick walls.

Behind grandma’s house was a large bamboo forest. I still clearly remember, when a gust of wind blew, the tops of the tall bamboo and wood would sway heavily with the wind, soughing, as if they were about to be snapped by the wind. That bamboo must have been six stories high. Inside the bamboo forest were a few chickens grandma raised, and occasionally wild cats would appear. Many families lived behind the bamboo forest; a female classmate from elementary school lived in the village behind my house.

In elementary school, I seemed to interact more closely with female classmates. YYH and CMT always came to my house to play during elementary school. We played dominoes; I would build a full circle on the dining table in the living room, then film a video watching them stumble and fall one by one. The video, of course, has long been lost (laugh). Besides dominoes, they were good hands at poker; they would occasionally come to my house to play even at nine o’clock. We sat on different sides of the living room dining table, playing confused cards.
YYH and WSN took my grandpa’s tricycle home every day, but as the grade got higher, grandpa inevitably lacked the strength. I still remember the day before W passed away, at the school gate, because I saw them running fast towards grandpa’s tricycle, I cried uncomfortably and scolded them angrily. Later on the road, WSN apologetically handed me a leaf to apologize to me. The next morning, I heard classmates in the class saying that WSN had a car accident. Her relatives determined the cause of the accident was that W’s grandma was addicted to playing Mahjong and gave WSN money to buy breakfast herself, and WSN had an accident while going to school alone. A classmate said she saw brains spilled all over the ground.
My dear Nan-nan. A few days after I heard this, a classmate mentioned her during the speech under the national flag.

In first or second grade, I went to CMT’s house to play once. Sweetheart Princess, we watched it happily together in her room. Afterwards, we played a role-playing game of Queen and Robber. Of course, she was the Queen. Later, she wonderfully took off her clothes and used only a quilt as a cape, while the content I played was something like robbing for lust. Truly a pure childhood.

In fifth grade, my deskmate XSY, his decision not to participate in the play required by the teacher surprised me at the time, but makes me agree incomparably now. He was just reading books all the time, reading books all the time, reading books all the time. In my memory, he seemed to always be lying on the desk with his head down reading. He later transferred away. I heard ZSY say she had a book she hadn’t returned to X, but it seemed she couldn’t return it anymore.

ZSY was a cute girl. From second grade to fifth grade, we would go to our math teacher’s house for tutoring together. What I still have a deep impression of is that she and I shared an umbrella on a certain rainy day. “The one surnamed M,” she always liked to call me that. There was a quite large birthmark on her face. I suspect she liked me

Rainy

Rainy is the girl I like. Rainy’s height seemed to be a bit taller than girls of the same age. Rainy was very cute, Rainy was as cute as a kitten, and Rainy was also very cute when she smiled. Rainy liked the 2D world; Rainy liked the 2D world since elementary school. When Rainy entered the first year of junior high, she brought a lot of Fujiya lollipops. Rainy was an introverted girl.
In the first year of junior high, at 2 PM on September 25, 2016, I confessed to Rainy through “Whisper”, after my identity was almost seen through.
Rainy said she had also liked me for a long time in elementary school. Rainy said the time she liked me was definitely longer than the time I liked her. Rainy said she knew she liked me long ago, but how come I still had to confess first. Rainy’s birthday is April 19. Rainy was in Class 2, but I was in Class 4. After entering high school, Rainy was still in the same school as me, but still in a different class.
If only I were in the same class as her.
I irrationally proposed a breakup to Rainy on January 8 of the following year. Marry your beloved 2D world, were the original words on QQ.
I regretted it to death, of course.

But, later, in the second year of junior high, RJW, Rainy’s friend, told me that once Rainy’s homeroom teacher investigated whether there were students dating in the class. R said she looked at the blushing Rainy saying she was dating me; her face was really, really red, R said so grinningly.
After that, every time at the cafeteria entrance, if they saw Rainy walking with her few good friends, I would hear them laughing and shouting Rainy’s name; they were such gossips. But I didn’t have much reaction, though I was really happy in my heart. Rainy once wore a short-sleeved school uniform that was very loose, but it was black. Rainy was always very silent; she always spoke very softly, always only talking to people next to her.

Later, I re-added Rainy’s QQ many times, but was either rejected, or the only time after revealing my identity, I was scolded by her. She sent me a sticker of retreating at light speed.

In high school, I saw Rainy a few times, she is still so cute. Rainy is still the same as in junior high, same as in elementary school. But I dared not go up and talk, even though she was right beside me.

Later on QQ, RJW said Rainy’s liking for me was a matter of childhood, it was in the past, and there was no need to do anything anymore. I don’t quite agree.
But I still like her so much; just looking at her makes me very, very satisfied.

Xin

Xin was my monitor in junior high. In the third year of junior high, she took a break from school and went to the second year. Although the teachers never told us explicitly, the classmates seemed to know that Xin had depression. At least it looked like the cause was unknown, just like mine. Xin was a very excellent monitor; classmates and teachers all evaluated her so. She was the boss of our class. Xin seemed to have jumped off a building in the dormitory once, but was stopped by the homeroom teacher. Xin seemed to have fainted on the playground once. I remember one time, probably during evening self-study, Xin’s mother came to pick Xin up with an anxious face, and Xin’s condition in my memory seemed to be describable as somatized unconsciousness. Xin had an outburst in the Chinese teacher’s class once; the reason looked unknown like mine. Xin kicked the desk hard at that time, startling the whole class. The Chinese teacher was quite calm, saying that even if she tore up books, it had nothing to do with him.
Xin once sat behind me. That was a mid-term exam commendation meeting. I got a prize, a light brown plastic doll. Xin said she wanted it, but at that time I thought it was very cute and wanted to save it for mom, although I didn’t give it to mom later either. Xin angrily told others behind me that I must have a girlfriend, that’s why I didn’t give that cute doll to her. If it were now, I would definitely give it to her.

In the third year of junior high, I fell in love with pens. It was another commendation meeting, in a large classroom. I got a long blue pen with a pendant; the pen body had a cute white bear pattern, and it was even three-dimensional. I examined that pen incredibly seriously, so much so that classmates thought I was very weird.

In junior high, there were two girls—why girls again? During that time, before exams, they would always pose together to cheer me on! I was really so happy, at that time. Later in high school, they still always played together; they said they hoped I would come to find them to play.
My deskmate in junior high was a very beautiful girl. She could do a pseudo-voice, and seemed to use it often when talking to teachers. A girl’s voice is already sweet, and after being optimized by her, needless to say how good it sounded. Her hair was groomed very nicely. Once she asked me if a ponytail looked better tied high or tied low. Although I had a detailed answer in my heart—tied low appears quieter, with the elegant feeling of a girl from ancient times; tied high appears very lively; it still depends on what type you want to express; however, many girls in the class tie it high, and you also often tie it high, so why not try tying it low this time—but, what I said was, both look good. She was extremely angry: then you equaled saying nothing.

The music exam in junior high was different from elementary school, though elementary school seemed to have no music exams at all. I was forced to go on stage and sing a song. At that time, I listened to Jay Chou; now several years have passed, and I am still listening to Jay Chou. At that time, classmates would often sing various songs in the dormitory. The azure sky awaits the misty rain, The smoke of the grill house permeates the air, woo woo I can’t recall others much.
I sang Blue and White Porcelain. Due to being introverted, it seemed many classmates heard my voice for the first time; the full house applauded.
Later, there was another music exam. I sang Far Away. I studied the Rap singing method properly but only sang the beginning, and the result was not optimistic either. I cry.
There was a girl in the class, Yi, who sang Common Jasmine Orange.

The high school experience was black.

I lost the happiness of elementary and junior high. But who knows if elementary and junior high were really as happy as I thought? In junior high, I even had urinary incontinence in public during self-study because I held my urine for too long; this was obviously not good at all.
So, it seems my life won’t get better. Unless I die.

At 2021/6/13 15:13