I pulled out a lipstick from my pocket and scribbled all over her pale face, mocking her, “Jessie, since this blind date is so great, why don’t you marry him yourself? You’ve been a widow for so long; it’s time you enjoyed the sweetness of love!”
Jessie grabbed a mirror and saw that I had drawn a large turtle on her face. She clenched her fists and screamed.
She rushed at me, knocking me to the ground.
As we fought, I kicked her a few times to vent my anger.
“Stop fighting, stop, please!”
A voice I hadn’t heard in so long but knew so well broke through the chaos – it was my father!
I rubbed my eyes to clear them and looked again. It was really him.
That’s right, at this point, my father was still alive.
Jessie took advantage of my distraction and grabbed a glass vase from the table, smashing it over my head.
With a loud “crack,” the vase shattered on my head. My skull buzzed from the impact, and a sharp pain flooded my senses. Warm liquid trickled down from the wound.
I clutched my head and crouched on the floor, gripping a shard of the broken vase tightly in my hand.
My father rushed over and cradled me in his arms, wiping the blood from my forehead with deep concern.