backbone
My mom hacked my dad and grandma to death with a kitchen knife.
I was the only witness.
My mom has confessed to everything, but the police won't let go of me.
They asked me over and over again, “What did you see? What did you hear? And what did you do?”
1
With trembling hands, I looked at the police interrogating me with hatred.
I gritted my teeth and tried my best to control my emotions.
I didn't understand why they had to hear it from me.
Why did they have to hear it from me?
“Where did a woman get the strength to hack a strong man to death?”
“And two at once?”
That man had an “iron face”, and every word he spoke seemed to carry a chill that sent chills down his spine.
“Your mom confessed so readily?”
“She made it sound so seamless, but she overlooked one detail.”
“The water meter doesn't just calculate the water bill, it also records the time the water was used, and can be accurate to every second.”
The sound of water running - clattering - instantly flooded my mind.
It was a sharp contrast to the sound of dripping blood, “Tick tock, tick tock.”
“Chen Zhang, your mom is taking the fall for you, isn't she?”
It was clearly a question, but the man said it with the flavor of a claiming sentence.
“In your mom's confession, the water meter in your house was moving at the moment she swung the knife at the man, and she said that you weren't there at the time, so why did the meter move?”
I was silent for too long.
I haven't spoken since the murder.
Everyone thought I was scared silly, but in essence, it was my mom's special instructions to keep me quiet.
Because too much talking always leaves a hole.
But in this moment, I couldn't hold back.
I raised my eyes to meet the policeman's and calmly asked, “Is it true that if I explain this, I can prove that the person was killed by my mom?”
2
The police had been waiting for me to open my mouth for a long time, and when they heard me speak, they couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief.
But when they heard this, their expressions instantly became more serious again.
I told them, “My mom and dad have a very bad relationship, ever since I can remember, they have always quarreled and fought, and when it got really bad, they would shout and fight.”
“Maybe this time it went too far, my mom went to the kitchen and grabbed a kitchen knife and chopped up my dad in a fit of anger.”
“My grandma must have wanted to save her son. Maybe my mom got mad and chopped her to death.”
I believe that's what my mom told the police.
After the interrogator and the person taking the statement looked at each other, he asked suspiciously ṱũ̂₄, “Maybe?”
“Didn't you see what happened?”
I shook my head and said, “I'm going to college soon and I did okay on the exams, but it's too far away from home and my dad doesn't want to pay for it, so I'm working outside as a tutor to earn money for tuition.”
“That student went on a family outing that day, but didn't tell me about it, so I went over there and flaked out, which is why I came back early.”
“Who knows, when I opened the door, my mom was chopping them up.”
“My dad was covered in blood, he was lying on the floor, unable to fight back.”
“My grandmother was also cut several times, but she still wanted to jump over to my father to block the knife, my mom was angry and kicked her away, her blood splashed my face ......”.
Speaking of this, I couldn't help but sigh repeatedly, I don't know what emotion I was saying, “My grandmother was very good to me, when I was a child my family was very poor, but she still let me live like a little emperor, for many years, painstakingly taking care of me and raising me.”
“My mom finally stopped her killing spree, she gasped for air and cried out at me, 'It's them, they're not human, they ...... don't blame me, don't blame me, mom was forced to do it.'”
My mom pointed to the doorway and yelled at me, 'You go, you go, pretend you didn't see anything.'”
I hesitated for a second and said nothing.
My grandmother tried with all her might to grab my pant leg, but I dodged.
I went inside as if nothing had happened, went into the bathroom, turned on the faucet and
I rinsed the blood from my face and listened to the sounds of chopping meat outside.
At first, no amount of water running could drown out their wailing, and slowly, nothing could be heard.
When there was no more sound from outside, I turned off the faucet and came out of it.
Dad was dead.
Grandma died.
Mom dropped the kitchen knife and sat helplessly on the floor.
So much blood.
As far as the eye could see, there was blood everywhere.
At that moment, footsteps came from downstairs, and my mom immediately lifted her spirits and ordered toward me, “Call the police, call the police quickly.”
“If you let the others call the police first, you'll be dragged into it.”
Then I called the police.
I looked up at them and it was obvious that they didn't believe me.
“You watched your mom slash your dad and your grandma, and not only did you not stop it, you went to the bathroom and washed the blood off your face as if nothing had happened?”
I nodded my head in confirmation and asked, “What crime am I guilty of?”
“The crime of seeing death?”
Curious, I asked, “Suppose I said that I was so stunned and confused that I had no idea what to do, and I went to the bathroom to wash my face as if by God, would the police not pursue me for the crime of omission?”
I sighed helplessly, “Actually, I'm in a very difficult position, the ones who were killed were my dad and grandma, and the one who killed was my mom, so hand on heart, anything I say, or don't say, is equivalent to someone holding a saw and cutting my flesh and blood.”
I asked in disbelief, “Why must you listen to me?”
“I'm just a kid who just finished taking the college entrance exams, aren't you guys worried that I'll develop some kind of psychological problem if I witness something like this?”
“Just because I'm an adult, 18 years old, don't I need to be protected?”
“Is there such a big difference between the day before and the day after I turn 18?”
I even hate them.
I hated all of them.
If I had known, why didn't this happen earlier.
At least, as a minor, I could have walked away without being questioned endlessly by the police.
3
Maybe I was too calm.
The police officer interrogating me was looking at me sharper and sharper.
“Do you look like you are in shock?”
I disliked back, “Do I have to be crazy to be overstimulated?”
“Someone died, someone confessed to the murder, can't the police close the case quickly?”
“Let's deal with the aftermath, let's go to court. I don't have much time left. In half a month, I'll be enrolling at the university.”
Hearing me like this, the policeman was simply furious.
Even though he deliberately controlled his emotions, he was still very disgruntled and slammed on the table, making a dull sound.
“Do you know who the dead person is?”
“And do you know who the murderers are?”
“They were your loved ones, how did you say such cold words?”
I asked indifferently, “What would you like me to say?”
“That my father is so guilty that he deserves to die, that he deserves to die, or that my mom is a murderer and you guys should have shot her earlier?”
I had a numb face, “I obviously don't want to say anything, and I shouldn't say anything, but you guys want me to say it?”
“You won't believe me if I tell you.”
“You think I'm indifferent? Aren't you indifferent?”
“What would you think of me if I were crying my heart out right now?”
“You'd probably think there's something to be said for crying like a child when you're already a grown man, wouldn't you?”
I taunted them.
As if they couldn't find any counter-arguments, they had to change the topic and asked, “Is it true that your father has a tendency to domestic violence and often beats your mother?”
4
It's funny that they had to come to me to confirm such a true thing.
“It's true.”
“My mom has old wounds that add to new wounds, and new wounds that cover old wounds.”
I said, “The neighbors all know this. If you don't believe me, roll up her sleeve and take a look at it. The bruises from the last time she was beaten should still be there.
The policeman was surprised and asked, “You know all this?”
“Of course I know!”
I was surprised too. Why did they think I didn't know?
“If I didn't know, who would have cleaned her wounds? Who would have given her medicine? Who could have taken her to the hospital in time when she was dying?”
Hearing these words, several policemen were really uncomfortable, wanting to say something, but seemingly unable to do so.
Finally, they asked in a slightly accusatory manner, “You are so tall, when your father made a move, didn't you know to stop him?”
Stop him?
How could I stop him?
I wasn't born this tall.
When I was very young, my father kicked me away when I tried to stop him.
My mom used to be able to fight, run and hide.
As soon as I went over, my mom was like a hen with her wings spread out, shielding me in her arms.
Then, she was nailed motionless, letting my dad punch and kick her.
When I got a little older and more sensible, every time my dad hit her, she shut the door herself so I wouldn't see.
My grandmother also covered my eyes, and she told me, “Your mom made a mistake, and your dad is teaching her a lesson, and when you make a mistake, you deserve to be beaten, didn't your school teacher teach you that?”
When I had managed to get my own sense of right and wrong, and was taller than my mom, and I was able to open my arms and stand in front of my dad like she did, I screamed at him, “Don't hit my mom, I'll beat you to death if you hit my mom again.”
The move worked.
Then, I never saw my dad hit my mom again.
All I could see were the bruises on her body and the way she was in tears.
I chased him down to where he was playing cards with a stick and I whacked him with it without saying a word.
I wasn't afraid of his pain at all, and several adults came to tug on me but couldn't get away, and I beat him until his head was bleeding.
I thought he wouldn't dare to do it again.
But guess what happened?
My mom knelt in front of the house and begged him for three days and three nights before he threw me the account book like a handout.
Otherwise, I wouldn't have been able to go to high school.
Five.
I called the police.
But what could the police do?
He was so powerful that he wasn't afraid of the police.
He shouted at the top of his voice: “I beat my wife, do you care? I drilled her quilt, do you care?”
The policeman didn't want to talk to this scoundrel and asked my mom, “Are you going to take a medical check?”
My mom didn't understand.
The policeman said, “As long as his injuries are assessed as minor, he can go to jail.”
My grandmother was so scared that she waved her hand and said, “What jail or no jail? I've never seen a wife-beater go to jail. If he goes to jail, who's going to support me?” He pointed to the police and asked, ”I don't know.
He pointed at the police officer and asked, “Are you in charge of me?”
“Or are you in charge of me?”
“If you take my son to jail, I'll come to your house to eat, drink and shit.”
“What kind of woman wants her man to go to jail for beating her up a few times?” My grandmother pointed at my mom and cursed, “You're a real scourge. What good does it do you to put your own man in jail? It makes it easier for you to steal, doesn't it?”
There were more and more people watching, but none of them were useful.
In the end, the police will say, “Not going to the hospital for a checkup, right? Then it's out of our hands. Settle your own family matters yourselves, don't always waste police power.”
And then what?
With the door closed, my dad whacked my mom again.
This time they've both learned their lesson.
Dad doesn't hit mom in the face.
Mom also held back from making a sound.
Looking at me with a face full of hatred, Dad would smile at me, that creepy kind of smile.
As soon as he dragged my mom to me, he commanded at her, “Look into your son's eyes, this is the good son you gave birth to, the good son you taught, he dares to look at me like this today, another day, he will dare to look at you like this.”
He would slap my face and say, “Son, you are still young, you don't understand yet, women are cheap, if you don't beat her, she won't listen to you”.
He would say proudly, “Beating is kissing, scolding is loving, and we don't love each other without beating or scolding.”
He asked my mother to reason with me, and she said to me, “Xiaozhang, your father's temper isn't very good, so it's fine if your mother goes along with him, so study hard and don't worry about such things.
Later, I went to school to stay.
Even though she hid everything from me, I knew that she had been beaten again.
I said to my mom, “Get a divorce!”
“I'll be with you.”
Mom shook her head and said, “Put up with it, study hard, and you'll be fine when you go to college.”
6
Those painful memories were like nails in my head. If I didn't want to think about them, it was really painful to think about them.
I whispered, “Get used to it, I got used to it a long time ago.”
I sighed with a bang, “I don't have anything to look forward to, all I can do is bury my head in my studies, I want to go to college, only if I get into college can I take my mom far away from rotten people.”
I unconsciously raised my hand and wiped my face, my hand was wet and I realized I was in tears.
“So it doesn't surprise me at all that my mom hacked my dad to death, I'm sure she must have hacked it in her head a thousand times to be able to hold the knife at the moment without hesitation.”
“Why am I so indifferent, you ask?”
“Because if I hadn't been indifferent, it would have been my mom who would have been lifeless as soon as my dad found a chance to fight back.”
The policeman pondered for a while and asked, “Your mom has been putting up with this for so long, why is it that she suddenly can't help it when she sees that you're going off to college?”
“Assuming that she had been waiting for you to go to college before getting a divorce, she would have mentioned divorce to your father the moment you got into college, why didn't she?”
“The acceptance letter of the university should have been received a long time ago, right? She did not mention the divorce, but at this time, she killed your father and grandmother, the motive of the murder is domestic violence alone, which does not seem to be justified.
“After all, it's not the first time your father has committed domestic violence.”
Domestic violence?
Domestic violence alone?
Not the first time?
Look, what a cold-hearted man.
He sums up the misfortunes of other people's lives in a single word: “Domestic violence.”
“How do I know?”
“My mom didn't have time to tell me.”
“Didn't she tell you in the interrogation room?”
In the face of my successive rhetorical questions, the policeman hesitated for a moment and then said, “Your mom said that during lunch, your father picked a fight saying that the food was too salty and tried to hit her, so she went to the kitchen to get a knife in a fit of anger.”
I continued rhetorically, “You don't believe me?”
The police were speechless again.
They were pursuing the case so relentlessly, so there must be some doubt in the case.
But I couldn't figure out where the doubts were.
“Take a break.” The interrogating policeman stood up and said.
I asked, “Can't I go? The bodies of my father and my grandmother, where are they now, don't I need to prepare for the burial?”
“Their bodies are still at the coroner's office, when they can be picked up depends on how the case goes.”
I asked again, “What about my mom?”
“She's still on trial.”
“What about me?”
“Wait, we have some more questions for you.”
Anyway, they wouldn't let me go.
7
After about two hours.
They continued to come and cross-examine me saying, “We just met with some of your neighbors, and they can all testify that your father often domestically abuses your mother, but they also say that it's because your mother cheated on your father.”
My fists couldn't help but tighten when I heard that one.
I looked at them without saying anything.
They prodded, “Is it true?”
I asked, “Is what true?”
“Your mom cheated on you?”
“Who did she cheat on her with?”
“Was there no one else present when you came home?”
I asked coldly, “What do you suspect?”
“Do you suspect that my mom and her lover killed my dad and grandma?”
The policeman didn't seem to like my rhetorical question, and said with a grunt, “Why do you like to be so stubborn? It's not impossible that your father is 180cm tall and your mother is 160cm tall, so is it reasonable for her to slash at your father's neck?”
“I replied lightly, “It's very reasonable! I replied lightly, “With this height difference, it's just the right place to cut his neck, right?”
“But that area was all chopped up, was your dad just standing there dumbfounded by the acupuncture point and letting her chop him?”
Well.
I'm afraid that no one can judge clearly, because my mother is too angry, my father fell down, but also was cut a lot of knives, if you give her a little more strength and time, she chopped him into meat paste is not impossible.
“Aren't you worried that your mom's lover killed them and then, your mom took the blame for her lover?”
I said categorically, “My mom didn't cheat on her husband, nor did she have a lover.”
“It's all because Dragon Chan wrongly accused her.”
Once upon a time my family lived in the countryside, with houses far apart from each other.
People were about to be killed, and probably not many people heard the shouts.
But later, our family bought a house in the county.
The neighbors must have had a problem with such a beating for three days.
But my father asked, “This bitch cuckolded me, shouldn't I beat her?”
Shouldn't she be beaten?” ”Damn it, she's been eyeballing men all day long.”
If a male neighbor steps in and stops him, he'll ask, “Motherfucker, you're the adulterer, aren't you?”
Without waiting for the other party to identify him, he would directly threaten him with a knife, “I'll chop you up.”
Over time, everyone knew that my mom had a broken shoe.
Women stayed away from her, talking about her behind her back, spitting on her.
The men also stayed away from her, afraid to get involved with her, lest they get into trouble.
I said, “If you don't believe me, you can go to our hometown in the countryside to investigate.”
8
The police are still capable of doing their job.
There was no need for me to urge them to go.
Just as they were questioning me, the person who was investigating came back and put the relevant information in front of their desk.
The man flipped through it and asked in surprise, “Your father never had any real job, where did your family get the money to buy the house in the county?”
“Your mom and dad don't seem to have gotten jobs since your family moved to the county, where do your family's expenses come from?”
I tried my best to stay calm, “Didn't your coworkers look into it?”
“Will you believe what I say?”
“If you don't believe me, why ask me?”
“Chen Zhang,” the policeman bellowed heavily, ”We are asking you now, not you asking us, please cooperate.”
I thought for a moment and said, “I don't know.”
“Once upon a time, when I was small, I remember that my mom and dad worked outside the home, and then they had to come back to take care of my grandma because she wasn't well, and then, one after another, my mom worked outside the home, and my dad stayed at home.”
“When I grew up, my dad probably played poker for a living.”
“Most of the money was won at the poker table.”
The policeman snorted and said, “Playing cards for a living? That's gambling.”
I guess so!
After a short pause, the cop softened his tone and said, “Do you know what kind of work your mom does outside the home?”
I shook my head and said, “No.”
“Are you sure?”
I said calmly, “I'm sure I don't know.”
The policeman held up a statement and said, “This is the testimony of your old neighbors in the countryside. They said that when you were seven years old, your mother brought a man back from abroad and wanted to divorce your father, do you have any recollection of that?
I still shook my head and said, “I don't.”
The policeman droned heavily, “You're lying.”
“Did your father ever hit you?”
I still shook my head and said, “No! When I was little, my grandmother protected me. When I grew up, he couldn't beat me.”
“Liar again.” The policeman's voice got louder and he pointed at me and ordered, “Take off your shirt.”
In fact, he wasn't asking me to take it off myself, as soon as his words fell, someone came straight over and stripped the blouse off me.
“Oh my God.” A policeman called out.
The cop rushed over to look and was also shocked and asked me, “These marks on your back, how did you cause them?”
I said indifferently, “I fell.”
“The whip marks were so obvious that they hadn't faded after ten years or so, so how could they have been caused by a fall?”
“Did he hit you too?”
After talking for so long, I felt for the first time that the police had a trace of sympathy for me.
That summer, Chen Dalong tied me to the stairs with a big whip for driving cattle and kept beating my back.
My grandmother cried out, “Da Lung, you're beating my precious grandson to death.”
“If I don't beat him, his bitch mother won't come back.”
He yanked my hair and ordered, “Talk to your mom, tell her to come back, tell her to get her ass back here.”
I was stubborn and didn't open my mouth, but a woman's heartbreaking howl came from the other end of the phone, “Xiaozhang, Xiaozhang, what's wrong with you?”
“Dragon Chan, what are you doing?”
Chen Dalong growled: “I give you three days, if you don't come back, I will kill him alive.”
“And my money. One point less, I'll skin him.”
Mom argued, “That's not your money, that's my hard-earned money, every cent is my hard-earned money.”
Chen Dalong stopped talking and started whipping me again.
Finally, I couldn't hold back and let out a wail of pain.
Mom compromised, she said, “Stop beating, I'll come back, I'll be right back.”
I hated myself so much.
How could I just not hold back?
If I hadn't made a sound, had mom escaped?
I raised my hand and wiped my tears, saying indifferently, “It's normal for a man who is a domestic abuser to beat his wife and his children; if he does it, he does it, and if he doesn't kill them, no one will care.”
They put my clothes down and got back to the point, “So, it's normal for you to want to kill him when he treats you and your mom so badly, isn't it?”
I avoided the topic and asked with a sneer, “You guys don't ask who my mom's lover is anymore?”
9
My mom doesn't have a lover.
That was her salvation.
The man I only met once.
It was an ordinary out-of-town man.
The family will not tell me these things, but the village old man, always want to say some old stories to pass the lonely and cold time.
In fact, that man was not wrong.
Because he thought my parents were divorced.
Why?
Because Chen Dalong sold his wife.
They were working together, and a small businessman who was dumping sand fell in love with my mom.
My dad was so determined that he asked my mom to play a fairy dance for the small boss.
Unexpectedly, the small boss fell in love and promised to give my dad a sum of money as long as he was willing to divorce my mom.
This money is enough to put his seriously ill mom, dragged back from Hades, but also enough to eat and drink for a while.
So he and my mom had a fake divorce.
My mom sold her body in exchange for money at Little Boss, and my dad promised to use the money to raise me properly.
His idea was that the little boss wouldn't really love a country chick, and when he got sick of it, mom would still come back.
But he didn't realize that there is such a thing as love in this world.
Little Boss wants to marry my mom against all odds.
My mom wanted to come back for a real divorce, and she gave my dad all the money that Little Boss gave her, only wanting my dad to get a divorce and give up custody of me.
My dad completely panicked.
However, he had killer ideas.
For one thing, legally, they were still a real couple.
Two, he still had me as his son.
Third, he could be a jerk.
He went to my grandparents' house with a knife, scared my two little cousins severely, and threatened them that if they dared to agree to my mom's divorce, he would kill those two little things, and make the Li family cut off their children and grandchildren.
From then on, my grandparents as well as my uncles completely cut off relations with my mom and forbade my mom to come to the door again.
Later, when the little boss saw that my mom never went back, he came over.
He really loved my mom, he didn't mind her cheating and didn't even care that she had a son.
He helped find a lawyer to fight the case.
However, he didn't realize that some people are worse than dogs and pigs, and even their own son is just a bargaining chip to get what they want.
Chen Dalong threatened my mom with my life.
At that time, cell phones did not have a video function, so he beat me that way twice a day, making me make miserable screams.
My mom could have escaped and never had to live this fiery prison life again.
It was me!
It's all because of me that she continues to come back to put up with this kind of man.
The small boss was compassionate, worried that my mom would come back to suffer, and gave my dad a considerable amount of money, asking for nothing but that my dad would treat my mom well.
So, our family got a house in the county.
In the eyes of the people in the village, this was the equivalent of a carp jumping over the dragon gate.
But my mom's life was even harder.
She couldn't go out to work and had to stay home to take care of the children and the elderly.
Without her money, she needed to look at Chen Dalong even more.
He doesn't remember that the two biggest sums of money he's ever had in his life were both exchanged by my mom.
He only remembers that my mom was with another man during the days of her fake divorce from him.
When he was happy, he thought she was a bad influence and beat her up.
When he wasn't happy, he spat on her for cheating and beat her up again.
Whenever she resisted a little, he beat me up.
My mom had to go along with it in order to make us suffer less.
She took the beatings as a routine.
She didn't fight back and she didn't cry.
She just wanted each beating to be over quickly.
She naively thought that as long as she was obedient, we would have a better life as a mother and child.
She looked forward to waiting for me to grow up.
Unfortunately, it was that close.
I sneered and asked, “Shouldn't Chen Da Lung deserve to die?”
“Shouldn't my mom have killed him?”
“Isn't my mom's action considered self-defense?”
“Even if it's not self-defense, it's at most a case of 'over-defense', right?”
“My mom told me to call the police, and she didn't run away, so she turned herself in, didn't she?”
“Do you ha