When I was eight years old, my parents left me in an accident. That day, I cried all night in front of my parents' bodies. From the beginning, my voice was hoarse to the end, when I couldn't make a sound from my throat, only tears continued to fall.
My aunt is my only relative. At the age of eight, I still don't understand the concept of being indifferent to others and putting profit first. So, when my aunt handed me a white piece of paper and asked me to sign it, saying that she wanted to sell my house and use the money to bury my parents and provide for me to study, I easily believed her.
After burying my parents, my aunt took me to City C. Sitting on the bus bound for City C, with heavy snow falling outside the window, I looked at the unfamiliar scenery in front of me, and the fear in my heart spread endlessly. That winter was so cold.
My aunt is not kind to me. I have to wash and cook by myself every day, and I have to take care of my aunt's son. My uncle is a bad gambler. Every time he loses money in gambling, he takes it out on me and either beats or scolds me. Although I felt wronged, I couldn't cry or make trouble, because only in this way would my uncle not beat me harder. Only at night can I hide under the quilt and cry quietly, letting the tears roll down my face.
I think about leaving my aunt's house all the time, but I can't. My experience has made me more mature than my peers. I know that if I leave my aunt, I won't be able to support myself at all, so I won't leave willfully.
I thought my life would go on like this until I met you.