When I determined to leave that piece of paper in that drawer, it may means there will be a long time the next time I want to go there. It was too tiring--- too tiring to get used to the environment, too tiring to get along well with the people there. And all in all, too tiring to live there.
I don’t know whether it was my fault. I just don’t like them that much, so I didn’t pay much attention. But they do care. They would be unhappy. Mum wouldn’t let me do so. At that moment, I believed it was my fault. They were kind to me, they didn’t do anything wrong. It was only me, because I didn’t feel close to them, I don’t like them. To satisfy mum, I greeted them every morning, every night. Immediately, they began to show me smile. ‘Child, have some beans. Or what do you like, I can cook it for you.’ Words like this nearly covered my ears. What do they really care about? Children? Money? It was not what they should think about at this old age. To beg, that is one way to own happiness, but not the most important way.
I hope they will understand, as they will be old enough to understand.