C1

Ever since I was a child, I have never been popular with my parents, and I don't understand why my parents always look at me with disgust. My friends all have new clothes and toys, and I can only get beaten and scolded.

A bastard is a child without a parent, a child who is not loved and not expected.

I helplessly covered my aching hands and raised my head to look at my mother. "Mom …"

It was drizzling outside, and the winter air was cold. I stood in the hallway, my face aching from the cold, my body numb, my teeth chattering uncontrollably.

"Let her in. She's sick from the cold outside. I still need to treat her." She could hear her father's voice.

"It would be best if they could freeze to death to avoid trouble! She's not allowed to come in here. Just now, she was preparing to touch Little Treasure, so it's impossible for her not to teach him a lesson! "

Suddenly, my tears started rolling down, the hot tears allowed me to regain a little sensation on my face. I opened my mouth and repeated, "I didn't, I didn't." But he couldn't make a sound.

I don't know how long I stood outside, but in the end, I couldn't hold it in any longer and sat on the ground. I forgot to cry and just felt wronged. I just wanted to hug my sister.

The wind and rain behind him suddenly stopped, and the rain that was blown by the wind also lessened. Soon after, a warm object approached.

I looked up and saw an extremely beautiful face. I had never seen such a beautiful person at the age of seven. The little mountain village that I lived in had never seen such a person.

"What's your name?" The stranger crouched down beside me.

I shook my head. I didn't have a name. Mom and dad didn't give me a name. When they call me, they only call me 'hey'.

The unfamiliar woman reached out her hand to pick up the back of my clothes, then she quickly picked me up. Seeing the slight frown on her beautiful face, I knew that she meant to despise me. This is how Mom and Dad often look at me.

I helplessly looked at her before noticing that it wasn't that the wind and rain outside had lessened, but that there was a large black umbrella covering the wind and rain behind us.

This strange woman carried me into the room. The warmth of the room made me shiver and wake up in an instant.

"Give me a price. I'll take the child with me." The woman said to her mother, who was dozing by the brazier.

"Father, come out quickly." Mother screamed at the back of the house.

Dad came out of the back room with his sister in his arms, and when he saw the strange woman, his face didn't look good. It was the look of someone who used to be angry and want to hit someone, so I took a few steps back in fear and hid behind the strange woman.

"Where's my sister?" Dad asked.

I don't understand the words of an adult, but I still clearly remember the time when my mother took the money from an unfamiliar woman. This is the first time in my life that I've seen so much money, and also the first time that my mother softened my expression.

I waited for the grown-ups to discuss it before I realized that I was leaving with this stranger. I rushed to my father's feet, crying, and grabbed him by the calf.

"Dad, I'm not leaving. I won't make mom angry anymore. Don't chase me away, I don't dare to hug my sister anymore." I cried and wouldn't let go, and I couldn't tell if it was tears or snot in my mouth.

"Let's go, we're not your parents, hurry up and go." Mom came up to me and tugged at my hand. "Hurry up and take her away. It's not good for others to hear."

How could I have the strength to escape from an adult when I was carried away by an unfamiliar woman? Looking back at how father was hugging my sister, my gloomy expression made me forget to continue crying.

For the first time in my life, I sat in a car. I cried as I completely forgot to be curious about my surroundings. All I knew was that I was forced into a box by this unfamiliar woman and bit into her hand.

It was all because of her that Mom and Dad didn't want her. It was also why Mom said that she wasn't her child.

"Don't cry! If you cry again, throw the person out and feed it to the wolves. "

"I want my mother. I want my mother." I leaned out of the window and watched the house grow farther and farther away. I cried louder and louder, forgetting that the wolf was the one I feared the most.

"Your mother died a long time ago! You have no mother! " The unfamiliar woman pulled me out of the window. With a fierce glare on her pretty face, she scared me so much that I stopped crying.

"Mom, I …" Still not giving up, he muttered, "I want my mother."

"You don't have a mother!" The unfamiliar woman grabbed my dry hair and gritted her teeth as she said, "Did you hear that? Your mother is already dead. If you want to find your mother, then go and die. There's no use crying."

My head was pulled so hard that it hurt, but I forgot to move. I looked at the unfamiliar woman in a daze. I even forgot to breathe.

When I stopped, the strange woman let go of my hair. I grabbed my legs and curled up in the corner of the car, my eyes popping but not daring to cry.

He did not know when he fell asleep, but he could faintly hear the woman saying, "From now on, you will follow me and call me Red Aunt."

When I woke up again, I was lying on my cold, damp bed. When I opened my eyes, I saw a strange environment.

"Little bastard, you're awake?" The door to the room was suddenly pushed open. A tall and big man with a full beard was standing outside, smiling as his eyes became clouded.

I didn't like that title. I got up from the bed and hugged my blanket as I glared at the man in front of me.

"Your eyes are like a little wolfdog, that won't do." The bearded man walked over to the bed and grabbed my hair, forcing me to look at him.

I was cold, without strength, and I was scared and angry, but I couldn't fight back.

The strange man had one hand on my hair and the other on my clothes. I reached out to grab the man's hand, but there was no room for resistance.

At the age of seven, I already knew what shame was. At home, when my mother saw that my clothes were untidy, she would call me a little slut without any sense of shame. I was more sensitive than most children.

"Mom …" Before I could even finish her sentence, I suddenly thought of someone telling me that I don't have a mother, "Red Aunt, Red Aunt … …" I struggled as hard as I could, as if I were trying to use up the last of my strength.