A Wooden Hairpin

Chapter One

“If you have desires,then only by living can you fulfill them.”

On her deathbed,my mother kept longing for a bowl of warm chicken soup,but all I had in my pocket was half a steamed bun I’d begged for over a long time.

She is now mentally confused,and I don’t know how much longer she can hold on. I want to fulfill her wish.

So I gathered my courage and walked into a greasy little diner,hoping the owner would spare me a bowl of food.

He was a middle-age man of average build,slightly plump.

With a face full of kindness,he led me to the backyard and pointed at a chicken, telling me it would be mine if I took off my clothes.

In the courtyard,there was another girl as thin and small as me, her eyes numb as she looked at me, as if she had witnessed such things many times before.

My mother was a prostitute, so naturally, I knew what he intended to do.

I turned to look back the courtyard gate was already bolted shut. Estimating the difference in our sizes, I knew I couldn’t escape.

Then why not trade it for a bowl of chicken soup?

I pretended to be clueless and nodded ,watching his friendly face gradually twist into something sinister and lewd .

At one point,I was so disgusted and I grabbed the hard pillow beside me,trying to knock him out and escape.But remembering my two day hunger weakened strength,I resignedly closed my eyes.

Afterwards,he glanced at the pillow and said with regretfully excitement,“Why didn’t you try hitting me?Then I could’ve justifiably strangled you bloodied ones are more fun.”

A cold sweat broke out down my back in shock—this was a complete and utter psychopath.

He didn’t break his promise and gave me the chicken,but made me catch and cook it myself.I had never done such a thing before and couldn’t catch it for quite a while.

I hadn’t cried earlier,but now I couldn’t hold back the tears welling up in my eyes.My mother was still waiting for me,and I didn’t know how much longer she could hold on.

The little girl,about my age,appeared silently behind me and wordlessly helped me catch the chicken,skillfully slaughtered and cooking it.

While waiting for the soup,she asked me,“Why didn’t you just die?”

Then she pointed again at the tree in the yard:“The girls he tricked in here either tried to hit him in the bed and got strangled to death,or later ran into the wall to end their own lives.They were all buried there.You’re the first one to survive.”

I silently kept burning the firewood,saying nothing.

If you were a child the whole village protected with their lives, you wouldn’t speak of death so lightly.Only those who have never truly faced it talk about dying so casually.

Besides, in these chaotic times,human lives are worth less than dogs in peaceful eras.The sorrowful,worried look on my mother’s face as she gazed at me over and over had long made me understand what this world would put me through.

I retorted,“And you? Why are you still alive,the true first one?”

For a fleeting moment,she looked surprised, her gaze involuntarily drifted toward the room where that person was sleeping, her eyes veiled with murderous intent.

The soup was ready.I hastily packed it and said to her before leaving,“If you have desires,then live only by living can you fulfill them .”