When I was little, everyone in the village said my mom was stupid and blind.
I thought so too.
Until I went to town for middle school and something rebellious took root in me.
When I got home that day, I asked her,
“Mom, do you want to run away?”
My mother flinched.
“Run? Where would I go? What would happen to you if I left?”
I clasped her icy hand.
“My teacher said a mother has to run far so her daughter can run even farther.”
“Mom, I don’t want to be trapped in these mountains for the rest of my life.”
I started making preparations.
I stole the volunteer teacher’s highly nearsighted glasses.
Then I stole five hundred yuan from my dad.
Before dawn, I shouldered my schoolbag as usual and pretended to go to school.
I asked her to walk me to the gate, then slipped the glasses into her hand.
She hesitated before putting them on.
In an instant, her cloudy eyes came into focus.
When we reached the old locust tree near the village entrance, my mother began to tremble violently.
I knew it was the line she hadn’t dared cross in over a decade.
Just then, Dad came charging after us, cursing.
“Damn blind woman, where do you think you’re going this time?”
I shoved the five hundred yuan into Mom’s hand.
“Mom, run!”
After only a moment’s hesitation, she dashed out of the village like a madwoman!
I clung to Dad’s leg and screamed with all my strength.
“Mom! Don’t look back! Keep running!”
