Grabbing Your Hand, Dragging You Away

Chapter 46

Hello everyone, good morning, good afternoon, good evening.

I am An Ran. (smiles)

Apologies, perhaps my opening line is a little tacky, but please forgive my rigidness and boringness, just because, as someone who is about to lose their life, I really don't have the pleasure to come up with something that starts off with a beautiful bang.

I just want to quietly, dully, narrate my life, regardless of the happiness, anger, sorrow, joy.

The friends that are willing to listen may brew a cup of hot tea, slowly feel the warmth that the tea brings to you, then, quietly listen to the story that belongs to me.

Let us start now then.

I already said I'm called An Ran, twenty-six years old this year, is the general manager's secretary of a global car company, personality is the same as the majority of twenty-six year old women, I have an ordinary family, also have a boyfriend of three years.

I shall talk about my family first.

My family is classed as the very common fairly well-off, my parents have a pair of daughters, me and my sister, who is a year younger than me.

From my memory of childhood, our family was not very wealthy, my parents had worked all year round, hence having no time to take care of me, the daughter that was born against their plans. They would entrust me to my grandparents' place to be looked after, and I would spend the entire day playing on the emerald green grass or small countryside roads with children from the countryside. Amongst the group of children, I was considered a little boss, leading them to naughtily cause mischief, one bad mood and I would order people around -- look at this, such a little bully.

The above have brought me memories full of laughter and cheers from acting recklessly.

This is the most pure, most valuable, childhood in my life, just that one cannot return to those times after it had past, taking away those blissful laughter and innocence, only leaving me the vague feeling of melancholy when I occasionally recall those times.

The amount of times I saw my parents in childhood, is not much, every year, would pretty much only meet once at new year. I would always hide behind the elders as I secretly eye up those two unfamiliar, yet familiar adults, and then timidly smile at them. I would also see that sister of mine that's a year younger, unlike my tanned skin and stubborn monkey-like personality, she had a fair white face and a quiet personality, my buddies would always say she's an angel --- that's right, in my eyes, she is an angel.

At the age of seven, I left Grandma's place and headed to the city, living together with Dad, Mum, and also Sister, and in the following days, I feel like I'm a pitiful child, extremely lonely.

My dad like to hold Sister on his lap and listen to her act spoilt, listen to her soft voice tell him the interesting matters that happened in school, listen to her furrow her brows and express her anger at him.

---but he would never hold me, would never say more than five sentences to me.

My mum likes to nag at Sister, clear pampering carried within her tone of lecturing, lightly patting her little hand and say: "Be like that again next time and I'll throw you away!"

---but she would never tenderly 'lecture' me like that, she would only furrow her brows in disgust when I accidentally break something, and then blame my grandmother.

I don't like such a life, really don't like it.

I started rebelling, started to also look at them with disgust, started to learn to not speak a single word to them for a month, back then, I felt I was so strong --- look, even without your doting love, I am also very strong.