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A story in my childhood
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Let me tell you about some awful memories I had with my father.
One thing he loved to do was to teach his timid, shy girl something about the courage, like in a simple and rough way. This one time when I was about 4 or 5 years old, we came back from my grandparent’s home at night. The moment we got off the bus, he was gone. I ran to and fro but he was nowhere to be seen!
The other passengers start to threw curious look and one or two came towards me. I was extremely uncomfortable with the strangers so I was even terrified more. Without hesitation I turned around and started to run.
It’s about 30 minutes’ walk from the station to home. I got only vague memories where my home was, but it's like the flickering view of a stone in the bed of a running stream. I stumbled blindly on, trying to find my way through the dark street, corn fields and ranch houses.
When I finally managed to arrive home, I was totally exhausted with tears all over my face. Now what I didn’t know is that he had followed me all the way. When I was about to knock the door, he picked me up from behind and gave me a last shock.
Parents are those, even the tiny things they’ve done to you, leave traces in your life and shape you in one way or other.
