A Blind Date at My Thirties

My name is Tina Scott, and I'm thirty years old. I work in administration at a small company in a mid-sized city, earning eight thousand five hundred a month. My parents keep saying that given my situation, if I don't marry soon, it means no man wants me. Since last year, they haven't stopped setting me up on blind dates. That weekend, I had just woken up when my mom, Mary Lewis, blocked the bedroom door. She held a photo tightly, her tone firm and uncompromising: "You must meet Mitchell Carter today. He's a mid-level manager at a state-owned company — a perfect match." I stared at the man in the photo—wearing a suit, his smile stiff and rehearsed. I felt no hope at all, but didn't dare say no—last time I refused a blind date, Mary cried all night, calling me "unfilial." Two o'clock in the afternoon, at the café we had agreed on. Mitchell Carter looked older than his photo, with fine lines around his eyes, and he kept staring at my chest while talking. I was uneasy and just wanted to end this awkward meeting as soon as possible. After the blind date, Mitchell said he'd drop me off since it was on his way. I wanted to refuse, but he had already opened the passenger door, his tone strangely familiar and non-negotiable: "Get in. It's so hot today." The car smelled faintly of smoke and cheap cologne that clung to him. Instead of driving toward my home, the car turned into a quiet, isolated alley. My heart raced, and just as I was about to speak, Mitchell Carter suddenly lunged at me. His hand gripped my shoulder tightly, with a force that felt like it could crush my bones. "What are you doing? Let me go!" I struggled desperately, my voice raw from shouting. But he smiled cruelly, covering my mouth with one hand while tearing at my clothes with the other. No one passed through the alley, only the rustle of leaves in the wind. I felt like a fish about to be slaughtered, staring hopelessly at the car roof as tears mixed with sweat streamed down my face. I don't know how long it took, but Mitchell Carter finally let go of my hand. He straightened his shirt and said with a careless tone, "You should've done as I said from the very beginning." My whole body was bruised, and my dress was crushed and ruined. I pushed open the car door and stumbled toward home, every step feeling like I was walking on sharp blades. When I opened the door, Mary Lewis was in the kitchen, sorting vegetables. Seeing me in such a mess, the basket in her hands dropped to the floor with a loud clatter. I thought she would feel sorry for me, maybe ask what had happened. But her first words were a blunt accusation: "What happened to you?" I cried as I recounted what had just happened, my voice shaking uncontrollably. Mary Lewis's expression changed slightly, but she didn't reach out to comfort me. She turned and walked into the living room, picked up her cell phone, and made a call, her tone urgent: "You need to come back quickly, something happened... it's not serious, just don't panic for now." I sat on the floor in the entryway, shivering all over. So in her eyes, my ordeal wasn't considered a "big deal." Half an hour later, Dad, Jim Scott, came back. As soon as he came in, Second Aunt and Eldest Uncle followed—clearly, Mary Lewis had called them ahead. Second Aunt was the first to speak. She held my hand tightly, her tone full of frustration, like wishing I could be better: "Tina, you're already thirty. How can you still be so immature?" "Mitchell Carter is such a good match. If he's willing to be with you, you should cherish that. Men can be impulsive sometimes—that's normal." Eldest Uncle sat on the sofa, took a sip of tea, and added, "Exactly. It's already done and dusted. If you don't marry now, who will want you? What about the Scott family's reputation?" They all spoke over one another; not a single person asked if I was in pain, not one said Mitchell was wrong. It felt as if I were the one who had done something wrong, and Mitchell Carter's violent act was just a "momentary impulse." I looked at their familiar faces and suddenly felt like they were strangers. Is this the family I've depended on since childhood? Are these the relatives who keep saying they love me? Just then, the doorbell rang.