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墨書 Inktalez
I pushed open the door and stepped inside, making my way to my room. I dragged out a box from under the bed, a relic left by my father. I hadn’t opened it since the day I put it away.
As I opened the wooden box, an old photograph caught my eye. In it were four people: my sister and I sitting on two stools in the front row, while my father and her stood in the back. Perhaps due to the passage of time, their faces had become blurred.
If she hadn’t left, I believed we could have saved enough money to treat my father’s cataracts. If his eyes were healed, he would be able to see the oncoming trucks and continue teaching my sister and me how to read and write.
But there are no "ifs"!
Even though she lived less than ten kilometers away, she had never come back to see us! And now she returned, demanding that I support her in her old age!
Thinking of all the changes that had befallen our family after she left, I picked up the photo and was about to tear it apart. But when I saw my sister sitting beside me, I hesitated; she was smiling sweetly in the picture.
Looking at her image, I recalled how she would put her hands on her hips, frowning with a pouty expression.
“Brother! You’re Liu Ming, not a thug! You can’t do bad things!”
This was what she always said whenever she tried to stop me from fighting with others. Ever since our father passed away, we had become orphans. Our relatives, who once promised to take care of us in front of our father, only built this building with his compensation money and then abandoned us.
Since then, I transformed from an obedient child into a feared troublemaker. Not a single peer in the village escaped my fists; the reason was simple—they mocked my sister. I had promised my father to protect her; it was my duty as an older brother.
But I failed!
Memories flooded back with tears as I recalled how no one cared for us after that. The Village Committee’s subsidies barely kept us from starving. To satisfy my sister’s cravings, I started working for others, saving every penny I could earn.
I heard adults in the village say that if my sister remained too thin, she wouldn’t look good when she grew up. So, I began scavenging for trash to sell just to buy her meat. Every time she wanted to tag along, I would scold her and tell her not to follow me because I didn’t want her to be ridiculed. Yet, that stubborn little girl would still follow me from a distance. Eventually, I would turn back and take her hand; every time this happened, she would flash a radiant smile.
For people in our village at that time, eating meat wasn’t difficult anymore; however, for my sister and me, we could only enjoy a meal during the New Year celebrations. Occasionally we would eat what others tossed aside for their dogs—pig lungs—but even then, those moments were our happiest.
As we grew older, I earned more than before. I began buying my sister new clothes once a year and new shoes as well. She no longer looked frail; instead, she started growing up beautifully.
Every time I saw her sweet smile, I thought about how important it was for her to stay happy. But fate had other plans; my sister fell ill. At first, it was just a fever—I thought she merely had a cold—so I gave her some medicine. However, instead of improving, her condition worsened throughout the night until she became delirious.
I carried her on my back through the night to the hospital. Even while resting on me, she murmured softly: “Brother, if I take some medicine and sleep for a bit, I'll be fine. Going to the hospital costs a lot of money; we don’t have any.”
“Don’t worry! Brother has money!”
By the time we reached the hospital, my sister had slipped into unconsciousness. After examining her, the doctor informed me that she had meningitis and needed immediate treatment. He also told me that payment was required upfront.
I pulled out a cloth bag containing all the money my sister and I had saved over the years.
The doctor glanced at the money in my hand and shook his head before saying: “We’ll treat your sister first; you need to find more money quickly—her condition is serious and life-threatening; you’ll need at least several thousand yuan.”
I knelt in the hospital corridor and bowed several times before getting up and running outside; I needed to raise money!
I went back to the village, begging door-to-door for loans while kneeling down until dawn broke. By then, I had managed to borrow a pitiful eight hundred yuan. Clutching the borrowed money tightly, I rushed back toward the hospital but suddenly remembered what the doctor had said—looking at the amount in my hand compared to what he mentioned earlier made it clear that it was far from enough.
I stopped in my tracks—what should I do? I needed more money!
The streets were quiet at dawn as I wandered aimlessly, my mind filled with the doctor's grave expression and his words that my sister was in danger of losing her life.
Suddenly, I heard the voices of several elderly women chatting as they went out to buy groceries. They were discussing who had made money recently. Watching them, I made a reckless decision—rob!
I clutched a thick stack of hundred-dollar bills, laughing as I ran, "Ha ha! I've finally gathered enough money! I can save my sister!"
When I found the doctor and shoved the money into his hands, urging him to save my sister, he refused to take it, shaking his head before turning away.
I froze, the doctor's expression mirroring that of six years ago. A flash of lightning struck my mind, then exploded into chaos.
"No! This can't be happening!" I shouted as I chased after the doctor, grabbing his arm and forcing the money into his hand. "Doctor! I have money now! Please, save my sister! I'm begging you!"
I collapsed to the ground, desperately bowing my head in supplication.
But the doctor walked away. To this day, I don't remember how I entered that hospital room. I didn't cry because Dad had told me not to.
I held my sister in my arms when a crumpled piece of paper fell from her tightly clenched hand. I picked it up and unfolded it; a crooked line of writing appeared.
"Brother, you must take care of yourself."
Looking at the yellowed note in my hand, I broke down in tears.
Dad! I didn't protect my sister!
A beam of sunlight streamed through the window, and Dad's and my sister's voices echoed in my ears. I stood up from the floor and looked out the window.
Dad! I'm crying!
Sister! Brother is not doing well!
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