Childhood

       Closing my eyes, slowly tasting and calmly listening, the past is like a colorful box, filled with candy and laughter. Recalling the past now, everything I did was just like shining raindrops, reflecting my shadow. The shadow that remains with me shows how absurd and ignorant I was. Many things I cannot do as an adult, it can only be my memories.

In China, many people believe life is a circle, everything will return to you based on what you did. Certainly, I believe it. Indeed, my experience made me believe it. I was very naughty when I was a child. One day, I climbed up 3-meter fences, and 5-meter trees which were not allowed of my father’s consent. Of course, I did it very covertly. A couple of days passed, it was nighttime, and my father came home from work. He called me and asked me if there was anything I forgot to tell him, I replied nothing to him and honestly I was recalling everything I did that day. My father grabbed a bamboo branch instantly, and gave me a physical and verbal lesson. I still don’t know how he knew that even now. Though, it was not the only thing I did.

        There was another stupid thing I did. In my village, we had a humongous field; everyone in the village owned a part of it including my family. The village was very quiet at night; you could hear crickets’ singing and fireflies dancing in the dark. It was very peaceful; neighbors sat in front of their houses and chatted. As you know, I was very naughty when I was a child. It was a clear night; my friends and I stealthily sneaked into the farmland, undermined some crops and took some carrots to eat. We lay in the field and watched those stars in the sky. 

The next morning, as soon as I walked into my house, I heard my parents talking about how someone destroyed my mother’s crops last night. My mother murmured about it all day long. I could tell she was very frustrated because whenever she murmurs about something for a whole day it is something that means a big deal to her. I knew who did it, but I did not tell her that person was me. I knew if I admitted, they will hang me up then use that bamboo branch again. 

       As time went by, I got older. Thinking about the past now, everything I did was so ridiculous. However, foolishness is one thing, having an adventurous childhood is another thing. Now, I cannot do that again, trying to be foolish does not exist for adults.

non-mainstream

Life is not an essay, it will not accept ordinary, only enshrine splendidness. It is a process, not a matter succeeded or defeated; it will not leave a blank behind you.  I am cherishing the memory of my childhood; I failed a lot of things and people. I turn my head to see my past; it was not long ago. I was 12 years old, I was short and thin, long hair colored to yellow and had three earrings, two on the left and one on the right, and it is the standard of bad boys in China.

      It was 2006. I transferred to another middle school because the old one went broke. At the new school, everything was new to me, and only a few friends I could count on my fingers. I was very quiet; I did not talk much even to my classmates or teachers.
      They could rarely hear a word from my mouth. I think that was one of the reasons I didn’t have many friends in the new school. Another reason I didn’t have friends was the vision of bad boy.  In China, once you were partitioned to bad, it was very hard to change it.
A month later, a lot of people knew me but I didn’t know them. I had no idea how they knew me, only one thing I knew was that I was scared them for some reason.
      Back in the old school, there were always rumors about me that made people think I was bad. One of the rumors was I joined the gang and fought with other gangsters that scared people. They were always roaming on the streets around the school. To be honest, I knew some of them, but I was not one of them. No one liked me including teachers and my mother.
      Another reason was the way I dressed; it made people think I was bad. It was all about the traditional view point. As you know my hair was dyed yellow and I had three earrings, one of them was a heavy iron earring and the other one was a cross with the chain. It was very cool to me but people thought of it as non-mainstream. My mom did not like the way I dressed, it caused a lot of arguments between us.
      Later, I quit the school. I found a night time job in a club between 6pm to 2am. I lied to the manager of that club, I told them I was 15, but I was only 12. I think they knew I was lying but who cares?  After that, I barely went home and had no contact with my mom.
      My mind was changed by the age. That year was 2009, it was the first year I came to US. I started realize I had to change myself to be a normal Chinese, because I was in a different country and I knew it was the good time to change myself, also it was not looks cool to me anymore.

      I knew it was not the way that my mom wanted me to go nor did I want to go down this path.  I failed my mom’s expectation and I have always known that, but I am trying my best to be a good son to remedy my fault.

She

Nine years have passed already. I didn’t realize it had been so long since our story began. What can I still recall before all the memories fade away?  Is it the verdant leaves on campus, the sweet smell of grass in the sun or the corners of my brand new desk and chair? I can’t remember how that girl with a white dress appeared in front of my eyes, but I do remember what she looked like and what attracted my focus. I was very shy and I always buried my feelings, fearing others may dig out my secret. But time changed that little boy, and made him dig out what he wanted to hide and to be public in others’ vision.

Her name is Chen ZenYing. Back then, we didn’t know that so much would happen between us. She was so stubborn. Back then, I was just curious about that girl who I never talked to and wondered what she was like. I just wanted her to talk to me, or even just to glance at me.

Back then she was in 5th grade and I was one year older than she. She had arched eyebrows and curved eyelashes; it was like a fairy was fanning her wings when she blinked her eyes, Sylphlike cheek and a small mouth.  All those things made my heart beat so deeply. Only one thing I wasn’t satisfied with her stature. She was taller than me; it was very embarrassing for a male to be shorter than a female if they were lovers. I was always looking for a chance to talk to her, but it was tough for a demure boy.  When I was an elementary student or a middle school student, my friends and classmates would always call me “melancholy prince” because I would always stare at the sky and I barely talked to others. Later on, they called me “callous” or “an insensitive boy.” I never denied it and I was a little proud of it, probably that was one thing about me that she liked. 

Soon after, I launched my plan to attract her attention. It was a noonday, we were leaving school. Normally, it took about 15 minutes to get to my house, but instead of going home; I saw her in the crowd and followed her silently. After we passed through a bunch of foxtails, she stopped and asked me why I was following her. I insistently denied it and tried to make friendship with her, but my mouth didn’t go with my mind. “Did you bully my friend?” I asked her. What a stupid question to ask a girl, and I didn’t give her much time to answer it either. I pushed her away and told her to leave my friend alone. Perhaps, I pushed her too hard that she fell down on the grass. Then she started to cry. It was first time of the many times that I saw her cry. 

In the afternoon when we were back in the school, my teacher called me to her office. When I went to the office I saw ZenYing was there and some scratches on her leg. My teacher asked me did I do that or not? I admitted, and apologized to her. Then my teacher let me escort her to school infirmary, so I did. I walked very slowly on the way to the school infirmary on purpose so I could talk to her longer.

It was Friday morning. I walked into class, put my backpack into my desk’s drawer and saw a piece of paper in my drawer. I thought someone just left it there for me to clean up so I got so mad that I crumpled the paper up, and threw it in the garbage can. When school was over, I stayed for about 20 minutes then I walked out of my class. I was surprised when I saw her sitting on the stairs next to my classroom. It was about 5pm and we had been dismissed at 4:30 pm. I walked to her and questioned her why she was sitting there. She didn’t answer me, but she asked me what my opinion was. I didn’t know what opinion she was talking about and I was bewildered. Then she started weeping and said a whole bunch of things to me. Then it finally hit me. She wrote me a letter, not just any letter but the one I crumpled and had thrown into the garbage can. After that we confirmed our relationship.

"Life is not the amount of breaths you take; it is the moments that take your breath away." Those days with her were the best moments in my life. We promised we would be together forever, no matter what. We walked to school together and walked home together, we hung out over weekends, but everything was secretly conducted. It was the happiest time in my school’s life but it didn’t last long. I had to face one thing. It was almost time for me to graduate elementary school, but she still had one more year in that school. Later on, I went to another school, and she was in 6th grade. When petals leave flowers, the fragrance still remains and the fragrance dispels in wind or after rain.

Almost one year had past and we didn’t talk to each, but I still got news about her from my friend, her classmate. Once he told me she was in trouble. Her father came to school and she didn’t show up in class for the first two classes. When she came back, her eyes were red and swollen like she had been crying, but he didn’t know for a fact. The next day, I went to her school and waited outside but I didn’t see her at all. I went there the next day in the morning very early and waited. I saw her, I asked her what had happened, but she didn’t answer me and walked away. I got all the information from her best friend; it was all because of me and her diary. Her dad had read her diary and he got so mad at her that he went to her school. He asked the teacher who the guy was, but no one knew because there was no one there anymore.

We met again after 6 months. It was as if destiny brought us together for the very last time. She gathered all her courage and asked me to get back together with her. I could tell that she was holding back her tears after she lowered her head. "I love you not because of who you are, but who I am when I am with you, but I am not who I really am anymore," was the last thing I said to her. That was the last time I ever saw her again. 

Now I cherish those memories but we can’t go back. The past is the past; there is no regret pill to take. I have failed her. Even though nine years have passed already, I still cannot forget about her or the memories we had together. 

My Blackson

     

“Blackson was like a sister and a friend to me. We accompanied each other growing up. She was very special to me and she saved me when I was in danger. She was always there for me and she waited for me to come all the time, but I left her to another place. Gradually, I forgot those days.


It all began in 2002. I was watching TV when my uncle came to my house. He carried a mysterious box that had something inside and that something made a sound. It sounded like a puppy. I was eight years old and like everybody else, I was very curious. I asked my uncle what was inside. I was so curious about what was inside that I didn't even wait for him to finish answering my question. As soon as I heard it was for my family, I rapidly took over the box. What I saw was a black puppy. I was hysterical. I cannot remember anything else that happened that day because I could only focus on the little black puppy.


I remember my father telling me the story behind her. My uncle had a dog in his store. One day a small black puppy appeared. My uncle saw her hiding in the grass and gazing at his dog’s food. My uncle gave her some food to eat, but then she ran away when she finished the food. The next day she came again and still did the same thing. So my uncle caught her.


After my uncle gave her to me I named her “Little Blackson”. I loved to spend time with her. When I came home from school, the first thing on my list was to go to her room and take a walk with her. I was ecstatic about it.

 Two years later, she grew so fast that she was bigger than me.  Indeed, if she could stand on two legs, she would be taller than me. I realized something else was different about her from the rest of the dogs in my village. It was color. Little Blackson has black hair on her back and brown hair on the belly side. It was totally different than other dogs in my village. Once I asked my teacher about my Little Blackson. She told me she is a wolf dog (German Shepherd).  I didn't hear the word after wolf, so I kept thinking my Little Blackson was a wolf for a long time until I told my brother-in-law. He laughed at me and explained to me my perception was wrong. I didn't listen to him at all and I thought he was just envious of me and my Little Blackson. But after many years when I was older, I realized I was wrong.


The older I got, the less time I had to spend with her. I barely saw her or took a walk with her. I remember a time I was out with her. Suddenly, there were 4 dogs attacking me. I stood still, thinking if I moved they would chase after me and bite me. A few seconds passed and my Little Blackson ran back, she had heard the four dogs’ barks. She didn't bark, she just bit them. Because my Little Blackson was so huge, all the dogs rapidly ran away. After that, I stopped calling her Little Blackson, I called her Blackson.


In 2009, I left my country for the U.S., but I didn't bring Blackson with me. I miss her and I don’t dare to look into other dogs’ eyes because their eyes are so pure that it reminds me of her. Sometimes when I am recalling my past, I can always see those images in my head. She was unique and nothing can replace the moments that I spent with her. Those moments with her are tar in my brain.

New Birth

  

I love to reflect about myself and the things that happens each day until my mom told me about the move to the U.S. At that moment sadness invaded my heart. I felt lost at the time as a 13-year-old kid. When I tried to think about myself, it was a black hole, hopeless. “Gone” that was the only word that kept appearing in my mind. I thought it was going to be a nightmare; an eternal nightmare caging me in.

         Remembering life in high school, it was so calm and bitter to recollect those days. It was my first four years living in the U.S. and also my first experience with high school life. I’m glad I had the chance to go to high school. There, I met many people who came from so many different countries. The first time I saw them, I was like that’s impossible and unbelievable because they have blue eyes and blonde hair that was so different from people in Asia. Even though I was   wondering those things, I didn't talk to others about my curiosity because I had the greatest problem “The Language Barrier”. Because of that, I didn't talk to anyone. I knew others probably thought I was dumb, and they were right, I was dumb; language dumb. For two years I barely talked to any others, except my ESL teacher.

        

         Time passed and I was a junior student in high school. I could talk a little English, but barely enough. Though, I did have some friends in the school. Honestly, I knew them in 9^th grade but with the language barrier problem, I couldn't remember their names for 10 minutes. I felt that it was a little unfair I couldn't speak fluent English. I was so lost about what to do then and my future.

 

         Five years have passed since I looked behind and I feel like it was just a dream that happened yesterday. The past is the same as a dream. You may not remember what is really going on, but you know it was dream or nightmare. Now I know it’s going to be better and better. I can talk to others and drive anywhere I want to, but sometimes the language still funks me and confuses me. I am accepting the fact that I have to start my life over again here.

        

         The eternal memory of the last night in FuZhou. I still cannot forget the city which raised me and so many memories with it. I keep recalling those days, people and tear, especially the last day in China. My friends were so mad at me for leaving China. I didn't tell them my flight’s time. I told them when I was almost leaving. I just hated to see parting and also I reared to say goodbye. I knew my life was going to change. I was not very happy with my parent’s decision, but I had no choice. I left there forever.

         Now I can reflect about myself again, I really did a lot of things. I am used to life in the United States. I am accepting what I have now and trying to respect and be thankful of everything I have. It will be a valuable memory of my life. Now I can start to think about myself again. I realized that dream did not cage me in, it was me caging myself in.