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又病了。他载着我,去了医院。风哗哗地伴着暴雨,有如十五年一起走过的日子……他一个急转弯,将毫无防备的我摔下车,半边脸血肉模糊。我用尽全力地哭着,他不断轻拍着我的背,眼红红的,“不怕,不怕……”声音是如此慌张,我从来不曾听到过。他不是坚强的,我想。那一年,我七岁。他宽大的巴掌无情地落在我的身上,我没逃,咬着牙。没等我反应过来,他拽着我的手,犹如钢铁一般,我无力挣脱,有一步没一步地被拉到门边。“哐”的一声,门关上了。门外的我,被寒风侵蚀着,泪水像小蟹,爬了一脸一地。我恨他,一辈子,我告诉自己!那一年,我十岁。妈妈摔伤了。我稚嫩的双手,烧出了一桌不伦不类的菜,他没有
I’m sick again He carried me and went to the hospital. The wind rushed to accompany the torrential rain, as the days passed together fifteen years ... ... he was a sharp turn, I would be unprepared fell off the car, half flushed. I was crying exhausted, he kept patting my back, red eyes, “not afraid, not afraid ... ...” The voice is so panic, I have never heard of. He is not strong, I think. That year, I was seven years old. His broad slap in my heart ruthlessly, I did not escape, biting his teeth. Not waiting for me to react, he grabbed my hand, like steel, I was unable to break free, step by step without being pulled to the door. “哐 ” sound, the door closed. I was outside the door, was eaten by the cold wind, tears like a small crab, climbed his face. I hate him, my life, I tell myself! That year, I was ten years old. Mom falls. I tender hands, burned a dish of neither fish nor fowl, he did not