The Time-Space Diary

The iron chain bit painfully into my wrist; I was tied to the Old Locust Tree outside our courtyard gate, like a beast up for sale. Father squatted on the threshold, smoking a dry tobacco pipe; the smoke rings drifted onto my face, making me cough uncontrollably. "Girl, everything has been settled with Bruce," He tapped the pipe against the sole of his shoe, his voice rough as sandpaper, "Two thousand — enough to add to your brother's bride price." I clenched my fists so hard that my nails dug into my palms. Bruce is already sixty, his back bent like a small bridge. The last time he came, he took advantage of the fact that no one was around and touched my arm. "I will not marry." I gritted my teeth, my voice trembling fiercely, yet I refused to show weakness. Father suddenly stood up and kicked me in the leg. I staggered and fell, the iron chain yanking my shoulder as if it were about to dislocate. "Who says you have the right?" He pointed at my nose and cursed, "I've raised you all these years; what's so wrong with selling you for some money? You're being rebellious!" Mother ran out of the house, her eyes red as she tried to help me, but Father shoved her aside. "Stop defending her!" Father's roar made the paper on the window tremble. "If you dare say another word, I'll beat you too!" Mother shrank her neck, her lips quivered, but in the end, she didn't dare speak. She merely crouched down and rubbed the bruise on my leg. As the sun dipped westward, Bruce arrived carrying two pounds of peach pastries. He leaned close to me, his murky eyes scanning me back and forth, making my entire body shudder. "Sam, this girl looks spirited—she's worth the price." Bruce patted Father's shoulder, but his gaze never left me. "Yes, I promise to raise her plump and well-fed." Father laughed until the wrinkles on his face crumpled together. I turned my face away, and finally the tears flowed uncontrollably. Is my life worth only two thousand, to be sold to such an old man? After dark, Father got drunk and argued violently with Mother inside the house. Leaning against the Old Locust Tree, a cold shiver ran through my body. At some unknown moment, a hard object had appeared beneath me; I reached out and found a worn Diary with its cover tattered. Grandma had bought this for me when I was in elementary school, but Father later threw it away as worthless—how could it have ended up here? By the moonlight, I opened it, and suddenly, a line of words slowly emerged on the blank page: "Take your mother and run." I was so frightened I almost threw the notebook away. My trembling fingers touched the page—it was truly handwriting, still faintly warm. "Who told you to touch this?" Mother's voice came from behind me. I quickly hid the Diary behind my back. "Mother, look." I handed her the notebook and pointed to the line of words. Mother's face instantly turned pale. She hurriedly closed the notebook and glanced around nervously, as if afraid of being discovered. "Don't talk nonsense, maybe you're just seeing things." Mother's voice was low, clearly laced with panic. "I'm not seeing things!" I grabbed her hand. "Mother, let's run away. Don't stay here to suffer!" Mother pulled her hand away, shaking her head as she stepped back. "No, I can't run. If I run, he'll break my legs." "But I don't want to marry Bruce!" I cried out, "Are you really just going to watch him sell me like this?" "What choice do I have?" Mother covered her face and began to cry. "We've endured all these years. Just bear it a little longer and it will pass." The light in the room suddenly came on. Father rushed out, holding a wine bottle. Seeing us crying and sobbing like that, his anger flared up again. "Why are you crying like a mourner?" He grabbed Mother's hair roughly and slapped her hard across the face. "It's all because you spoiled her, letting this girl dare to talk back to me!" "Stop hitting her!" I lunged forward and grabbed Father's arm. "If you want to hit someone, hit me!" Father raised his leg and kicked me away. The iron chain tightened again, and I felt the pain until my vision darkened. Taking advantage of the moment, Mother knelt on the ground, repeatedly kowtowing to Father. "I was wrong, please stop hitting me. I will definitely take good care of her." Mother's forehead was bleeding from the bump. At that moment, Grandma's voice came from outside the courtyard gate. She carried a basket of eggs; having heard I was about to be sold, she had rushed over from the neighboring village. "Sam Collins! Come out here!" Grandma shouted the moment she entered the courtyard. Upon seeing me tied up, tears immediately welled in her eyes. "Are you even human? This is your own daughter!" Father sobered up considerably from the wine, released Mother, scratched his head, and said, "Mother, this is for the good of the family." "You sell your daughter for the sake of the family?" Grandma trembled with fury. She rushed over, trying to unlock the iron chain around my wrists. "Today, I will take the girl away, no matter what!" "How dare you!" Father blocked her. "This is my family matter. Mind your own business!" "If I don't interfere, then who will?" Grandma shoved Father. "How did I teach you when you were young? A person must never lose their conscience!" Father staggered from the push, his anger flaring again, reaching out to shove Grandma. I screamed and lunged forward but was restrained, unable to move by the iron chain. "Try touching my mother and see what happens!" Father's roar had barely faded when Grandma suddenly clutched her chest, her body went limp and she collapsed. "Mother!" Father and mother shouted at the same time, and I was terrified, as if my soul had fled. Grandma's face was deathly pale, her breath shallow. She pointed at me, her lips moving, but could not speak. "Quick, call the doctor!" Mother cried, rushing forward to hold Grandma, while Father panicked and staggered toward the village entrance. But by the time the doctor arrived, Grandma had already died. Until her final breath, her eyes remained fixed on the direction where I was chained with an iron chain. I held Grandma's cold hand, tears falling like beads strung on a broken thread. Clutching the Diary to my chest, the words 'escape with your mother' felt as if they were etched onto my heart.