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墨書 Inktalez
The ceiling fan in the office buzzed overhead, but it couldn't disperse the scent of cologne wafting from Teacher Zhou. His index finger tapped rhythmically on the leather paper bag on the desk, and the metal school badge reflected blinding white light under the fluorescent lamp. "Xia, this is your third time dozing off in math class."
I stared at the golden watch peeking from his suit sleeve, the ticking of the second hand reminiscent of the heartbeat monitor in the infirmary that day. Outside, the cicadas suddenly shrieked, piercing through my temples and making them throb.
"Last Wednesday after self-study, someone saw you coming out of the adult store in the alley." He pulled out a stack of photos from the paper bag and slapped them onto the desk. The convenience store's neon sign cast a hazy pink-purple hue over the images. My nails dug into my palm; the figure in uniform from behind was unmistakably me, even down to the way my hair curled at the tips.
The sound of a janitor's cart echoed down the hallway, drowning out the ticking of the wall clock. Teacher Zhou's leather shoe tip brushed lightly against my calf. "The principal's office is just next door. All I have to do is press this call button..." His thumb hovered above a red button, and as he swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbed slightly, causing his tie to quiver. "But I wouldn't want to ruin your future."
A gap opened in the clouds outside, and sunlight streamed into the office, illuminating a dark red scratch behind his ear. I suddenly grabbed a cutter and pressed it against my throat; blood welled up along my collarbone. "Give it a try," I said lightly, as if discussing whether it would rain tomorrow. "Who do you think they'll believe more?"
His hand froze above the call button, his throat moving again. I could smell blood mingled with cold sweat, and the cutter left crescent-shaped imprints on my palm. Suddenly, chaotic footsteps echoed in the corridor; he recoiled as if burned. The stack of photos was swept up by a draft from outside and fluttered into the shredder.
The next day, when a disciplinary notice was posted on the bulletin board, my application for withdrawal lay quietly on the principal's desk. Teacher Zhou stood under a sycamore tree smiling at me; dappled sunlight filtered through the leaves, weaving a web of shadows across his face. The sigh of the head of discipline mixed with cicada calls struck me in the back: "What a pity; you were supposed to be City Three's Good Student."
The storage cabinet in the hallway clanged loudly as my textbooks scattered across waterlogged floor tiles. The girl with a ponytail who had once passed me love letters was now stepping on my physics workbook; chalk writing spelled out "bitch" under her canvas shoes, ground into gray dust. "What are you pretending to be so pure for?" She yanked at my collar, and I caught a whiff of her pungent banana-scented nail polish. "Going to places like that late at night? You must be desperate for money."
Suddenly, rain poured down heavily, pounding against the metal roof of the bike shed with loud thuds. As I stood at home clutching my withdrawal notice, Mother was smashing an empty bottle against the mirror in the foyer. Glass shards scattered around my feet, reflecting her twisted face. "You worthless piece of trash! Just like your father—always bringing me shame!"
The cheap perfume mixed with vomit stench hit me like a wave. I stepped back and felt glass crunch beneath my foot; blood oozed into the plastic crevices of my slippers. "I didn't do it." The words lingered too long between my teeth and came out tasting like iron rust. Her slap came faster than I expected; my left ear filled with a buzzing sound.
"Kneel!" She yanked my hair and dragged me toward the altar, ash scattering onto my bleeding knees and forming tiny blisters. My father's portrait swayed in the smoke; he had looked at me with those same bloodshot eyes before he died. The fruit knife on the offering table suddenly began to tremble as Mother pressed my head toward its blade. "Die! Go die with your father!"
In that moment when thunder crashed, I shoved her away and dashed into the rain curtain. My slippers were long gone; shards of glass cut jagged lines into my feet as I ran. Behind me, her curses pierced through the downpour: "Get lost! Never come back!" The neon light from the convenience store at the alley entrance blurred into a pool of blood in the rain mist. I gazed at my reflection in the window; my soaked uniform clung to me like a pale corpse just pulled from a river.
As the darkness swallowed the last glimmer of light, I curled up in the shadows beneath the Bridge Tunnel, counting the Rib. The river flowed steadily, carrying with it the debris drifting downstream. For a fleeting moment, I mistakenly thought that the bulging shapes inside those black plastic bags resembled boys and girls wrapped in their school uniforms.
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