Love Story.doc

Love StoryOver the years, I never thought of my father as being very emotional and I always saw him as being that staunch disciplinarian who rarely cracked a smile. My father never told me he loved me when I was a child, and I never held it against him. I thought that all I really wanted was for my dad to be proud of me. During my childhood ,my mum always showed me with “I love you ”until she with my dadmarriage had broken when I was five years old . Since then she never came to see me and I got to know many years later that it was she who chose to leave my dad and me, for the reason my dad was very poor. At one time, I blamed my dad for driving my mum out of the door. So I hated him very much. I never treated him as my father in my inner heart. In rebellious age, I did not think he cared for me, let alone he loved me. In fact, he loved me. Come to think of it, I ever told him that I loved him, either. I never really thought about it until I faced the reality of death. It was six years ago when I just entered to middle school. It was full of imagination and rebellion. Since the tight relationship between my dad with me, we hardly talked with each other. I had few friends as I liked to self closing. What I really liked to do was staying alone in my room and imaged one day mum would be back. I remembered clearly, there was a big colorful garden, blue and clear sky, groups of bees, with butterflies flying around flowers, very busy. Mum, with shining and warm smile, grabbed my little hand as well as taught me to learn from beautiful nature. All the memories could not be back again, but every time I dreamed back to play with mum, dad came out in a rage which shattered sweet dream. I dreamed of flying by myself so that I could go wherever I liked and have no links with my dad forever. I never forgot that day.I brought a razor furtively several days ago and prepared to shave myself in that morning. I shamed of my physiological characteristics of the period. Whats more, for me, it was not only ugly but made me look like father more .“Anthony, it is time for breakfast. You will be later for school. Please quick. ”As usual, dad s harsh words around me on time day by day. It was my first time to shave. I even did not how to do it but I only keenly wanted to clean it. When I went to have breakfast, the Band Aid was stick to my face as I hurt myself finally. I turned blind eyes to dads strange eyesight. “What s wrong with you face ？”“ Nothing.”I answered casually.“You know you are too young to shave. So”“Its none of your business.”I left unfinished breakfast impatiently, grabbed my bag. With the door slams, I left home in great agony. Father s words teased me as a mirror through which I could see myself like a drowned mouse. “I will never come back home this time. He will not care where am I . Maybe that is what he wants.”I did not want to go to school at all and did not know where I should go, so I just hung out in the street. “Maria, come here. ”Approaching the voice, just to see my neighbor, little Maria, chasing her ball into the middle of the street, sweet and happy smile on her face, without sorrow and anxiety. Nearby, her mother, who sat in front of gate, with a book in her hand, waved her hands softly to Maria. It was a fine day, warm sunshine spraying around. It occurred to me that her graceful and nice smile is similar to my mother. Something touched my heart deeply and something I could not describe made me sad“Oh, no. Maria, watch out！Maria”A car was approaching to Maria, who was too little to know what would happen. At that moment of all one, without hesitation, I rushed to Maria and pushed her away. Then , I knew the car ran to me. A great pain was through my whole body. Strong lash dazzled me but I also realized A week later, when I returned home from the hospital, there were so many people who were welcome to me to come back home. When I turned to my father, I embraced him and gave him a huge hug. He whispered in my ear, “I am very proud of you, son, I love you. ”I looked at that man, my dad, straight in the eyes as I held his head between my hands and I said, “I love you too, dad,” and we embraced again. And then together, both of us cried. Ever since that day, my relationship with my fat