Pictures in Memory with Setting Frame

Dark clouds piled up in the blue sky. Rain is cold, the continuous, soft rain, like a needle, into my heart. The autumn wind is bleak, and the dullness of the coming rain and wind adds to the depression. I curled up in the corner, looking at the sky without a god, letting tears run freely on my cheeks, holding my cheeks with my hands just to cover the ruthless palm marks on my face…
The results of the cram school were handed out, and the bright red numbers on the test paper mocked my failure. As I looked at the dazzling number, a panic arose in my heart, as if I could see my father’s complex face through this simple number. When I returned home, I wondered whether my father’s invitation was disappointment, sadness, anger or desperate calm. Thoughts are like a mess… After lunch, I took out the test paper and handed it to my father.
It’s like a cold shackle, which makes me feel bitterly cold. Looking at his father’s face from gentle to shocked, and then to anger, the atmosphere from warm to sudden turn down, become depressed. The younger sister had no idea what had happened. Her little body was curled up in the corner of the sofa, her eyes filled with doubts and a trace of fear. Father stood up and pointed his forefinger straight at my head. “Tell me what you’ve learned!” Then he opened the rolled sheet of paper and poked the scarlet on it with his hand. His rough palms trembled with anger. His lips tightened and he seemed to be holding back something, but eventually he did not. “What else to learn! Stop learning! After a roar, the paper groaned weakly in his hands. I stared at my father, leaving only a blank in my mind. Then a pile of paper hit me hard on the head and flew in the air.
I knew my father would be angry, but I didn’t expect him to be so angry. It was just a little test. I’ve been slack for a while, so I failed in the exam. I thought that as long as I had done well in the next exam, there would be no big problems. My father’s rage made me very confused, the original depression of the mood is a little enduring anger. My sister cried out faintly to my father, who was obviously unfamiliar with the Furious father, with a little crying in her trembling tone.
I thought my father would be somewhat restrained, but I didn’t expect him to be more angry, “What’s it called?” If you’re like your sister, don’t call me!” My repressed mood broke out. “What are you shouting at her for?” Who do you think you are?” “Pop!” His palm slapped fiercely on my face, and I was dull for a while. This was the first time that my father hit me! Looking at the hands in a daze. Once, such warm hands gave me support when I was frustrated; such warm hands gave me courage when I was afraid; such warm hands, when I was young, held hands and went through spring, summer, autumn and winter one after another. No matter how angry I made him before, he never hit me! But all the good things are broken at this moment, the wrongs that failed the exam, the sadness of being roared, and the bitterness of his father’s slap, the hearts filled with infinite grief, tears one by one fell from the eyes, dripping on clothes, that deep shallow impression seems to be laughing at my uselessness… Outside the window, the thunder roared and the rain grew heavier. I could hear the sky roaring angrily, the wind laughing wildly, the trees and plants crying sadly. I stubbornly raised my head and stared at him. Father’s face was flushed and his muscles twitched slightly from wheezing. He looked down at his palm incredibly, and in his bloodshot eyes, exhausted blood began to spread from the bottom of his eyes, like a fire burning my heart; the vicissitudes of life left a ruthless scar of the years, and the deep and shallow ravines hurt my eyes.
I rushed into the room with shame and indignation, leaving only the howling of the door panels.
I curled up in the corner, recalling my father’s angry roar, ruthless slap, guilty eyes in my mind can not go back and forth… But the real reason for my grief is that my father snapped his fingers and thought about the wrinkles on his face, and I suddenly understood what… At dinner, facing his red eyes, I opened my mouth but said nothing. In the evening, my mother quietly told me that my father, who always had a good face, kept blowing clouds and mists, leaning against the wall, and shed silent tears after I entered the room. I just imagined such a picture in my mind and I couldn’t help crying. Suddenly I realized what… Father’s love for his children is always restrained. He doesn’t like to talk about love as his mother does. He just expresses it by action. With the growth of experience, I began to know my father gradually with the idea of enrichment. Only then did I feel more and more that every father has a fervent heart and gives 100% of the feelings to his children. No matter how great the pressure they bear, they have no regrets. Think of these, my heart suddenly mixed, thinking of my father’s hump back, I finally realized that my father is old. That’s why he wants us to grow up quickly without suffering.
My father’s meaningful slap is still in my mind today, and whenever I think of it, only my father’s deep love is left in my heart. This love has also become the driving force on the road of growth, which makes me brave and fearless.