MidReal Story
Secrets Unveiled
Scenario: Dark past time, young girl without father
Create my version of this story
I was a young girl without a father.
My mother was always busy with work, and my uncle was always busy with his own life.
I was always alone, but I didn't feel lonely.
I had a lot of things to do, and I had a lot of fun.
When I was young, I liked to play in the attic.
The attic was very big, and there were many things that I had never seen before.
There were also many old things that my mother said were left by my father.
I liked to take them out one by one and look at them carefully.
One day, I found an old letter in the corner of the attic.
The letter was yellow and looked like it had been there for many years.
I opened it carefully and saw that there were only a few words written on it: "Sarah, I'm sorry."
I didn't know who wrote this letter or who Sarah was.
I raised my head and looked around.
The attic was quiet and only the sound of my own breathing could be heard.
I looked at the letter in my hand for a long time and then I stood up and put it in my pocket.
There were too many things in this attic that I didn't understand.
But I was only a child, and I was afraid to ask my mother about them.
My mother didn't like people to ask her about these things, and whenever I asked her, she would look at me with a deep frown on her face.
Sometimes, she would even lose her temper.
I carefully put the things I had taken out back into the box, then turned around and left the attic.
When I walked out of the attic, I looked at the door again and thought about whether I should come back here to see if I could find some more clues.
I just felt that there were too many things in this attic that I didn't understand.
My father was dead, and my mother never said much about him.
There was also the letter I had just found, which only made me feel even more confused.
Since there were so many things that I didn't understand, it might be good to come up here more often in the future.
If I could find some information about my father, maybe I could also find out why he had disappeared from my mother's life.
I thought for a while and then went downstairs.
My mother had already returned home and was busy preparing dinner in the kitchen.
I walked over to her and stretched out my little hand.
"Mom, what are we going to eat tonight?"
My mother turned around and looked at me with a gentle smile on her face.
She bent down and rubbed my head before turning back to continue with her work.
"How about some grilled fish?It's your favorite."
"That's great!
I'm so hungry!"
I ran to the living room and sat down on the sofa to turn on the TV while waiting for dinner to be ready.
The sound of the TV filled the entire living room.
But in the attic, behind the closed door, there was still silence.
The small letter that had been taken out of the box was lying quietly in my pocket.
The words written on it seemed to be constantly echoing in my mind: Sarah, I'm sorry…
A few days later, when my mother was busy working again, I came back to the attic by myself.
Since that day, the words "Sarah, I'm sorry" had been stuck in my mind like a seed that kept growing wildly inside me.
I took out the few things in the box along with the old letter again, and then continued looking through them carefully one by one.
The items in the attic were either old or broken, but they all looked important because they once belonged to my father.
If I wanted to find out what had happened to my father, I could only turn to his brother, my uncle Thomas, for help.
My uncle Thomas was my mother's older brother, and he lived with us in the house that my mother and him had bought together.
Even though he lived with us, he didn't talk much, and he stayed out a lot, so I rarely saw him.
My mother didn't like him very much, either, and the two siblings had a lot of disagreements when they talked together.
But they both cared a lot about me, so they put their differences aside for my sake most of the time and didn't argue with each other too much.
I couldn't find my uncle today, but I kept looking for him all day long, and finally found him sitting alone on the swing in the yard after dinner.
I took off my shoes and ran over happily, then grabbed his hand and said excitedly, "Uncle Thomas, I have something to ask you."
My uncle sighed softly and rubbed my head with a gentle look on his stern face.
"What do you want to ask, Emily?"
I took out the old letter that I had found from my pocket and handed it over to him.
"Uncle Thomas, do you know who wrote this letter?"
My uncle's expression stiffened for a moment when he heard me mention the letter, then he quickly recovered his composure.
He looked at me without speaking, and his eyes narrowed slightly as if he were lost in thought for a moment before saying anything else.
I held out the letter with both hands and shook it slightly while saying to him with an expectant look on my face, "Uncle Thomas, do you know who wrote this letter?It says that this letter is for Sarah.I asked my mother about it, but she said that she didn't know who Sarah was."
My uncle's expression suddenly changed when he heard me mention my mother's name, and he suddenly reached out and snatched the letter from my hand.
His eyes narrowed slightly as he stared at the handwriting on the paper and his expression became more and more strange as time went on.
I looked at him curiously, and for a moment, I didn't know what he was thinking.
Just as I was about to speak, my uncle suddenly turned around and walked away.
I quickly ran after him and asked, "Uncle Thomas, do you know who wrote this letter?What does it mean to say sorry to Sarah?"
My uncle stopped and turned around to grab my two little shoulders.
He looked at me with a stern expression, and his eyes flashed with a strange light as if he were angry.
"Emily, this matter doesn't concern you.It's not good for you to meddle in other people's business."
I stared at him for a moment, and I could see that he wasn't very happy.
But I couldn't figure out why he would be unhappy if I asked him about something related to my father.
I raised my head and blinked at him with an innocent look on my face.
"But I'm just curious, and I want to know who wrote this letter."
My uncle looked at me for a moment.
My uncle didn't say anything, and there was a moment of silence between us.
"Emily, I will warn you one last time.Don't ask about things that don't concern you."
His stern voice rang out, and there was an angry look on his face.
I was stunned for a moment, and I couldn't help but take a step back in fright.
I looked at him with an innocent face and asked, "But isn't he my father?Why can't I ask these things?"
Uncle Thomas's face changed slightly when he heard me mention the word 'father' and he fell silent for a moment.
He looked at me with some complicated emotions on his face.
In the end, he still let out a long sigh and said, "Since you really want to know, then I'll tell you." He paused for a moment before continuing.
"Your father… is no longer here."
When I heard my uncle say this, my eyes widened in surprise, and I said incredulously, "What do you mean by that, Uncle Thomas?Didn't my mother say that my father has gone on a business trip and hasn't come back yet?
It's been so many years since he left.
I thought my father had gone on a business trip all these years?
Why has he not come back yet?
Why did he leave us behind?
I looked at my uncle with some puzzlement as I asked him all these questions.
My uncle looked at me for a moment before he said in a deep voice, "Emily, your father is no longer here.If you are curious about what happened to him, I can tell you about it."
When I heard my uncle say this, I quickly nodded my head in agreement.
I looked at him expectantly and said, "Yes, I want to know what happened to my father.Can you tell me?"
My uncle looked at me for a moment before he let out a long sigh and said, "Alright."
He then turned around and walked towards the living room with me in tow.
When we entered the living room, my uncle went to pick up an old family photo from the tea table.
The photo frame was a little old and the glass on it had been stained with dust over the years.
My uncle wiped it with his hand before picking it up, then placed it in front of me.
He pointed to the man in the photo and said, "He is your father."
Father?
I blinked my eyes in surprise and took a closer look at the man in the photo.
The man in the photo had short black hair and a face that looked very cold.
He had sharp eyes and a straight nose, and his face was very handsome.
His facial features were very similar to mine, but his eyes were much colder than mine.
The man's facial features were still visible even though he looked very young in the photo.
I looked at the man in the photo for a while before I raised my head and asked my uncle, "Uncle Thomas, what is my father's name?"
When my uncle heard me ask this question, he paused for a moment before he said, "His name is David."
After that, he put down the photo frame and turned around to leave.
"Your father's name is David.If you want to know what happened to him, I'll tell you." Then, he turned around and left without looking back.
It seemed as though he didn't want to talk about this matter anymore.
A puzzled look appeared on my face when I saw this.
"Why doesn't Uncle Thomas want to talk about my father anymore?
Just as I was about to catch up with him, my mother appeared at the entrance of the living room.
The heavy footsteps that she made as she walked over made me stop in my tracks.
She looked at me for a moment and then at my uncle, who had already left the living room.
"Emily, don't ask your uncle about this matter anymore," she said to me.
When I heard my mother say this, I couldn't help but look at her in confusion.
"Mother, why can't I ask about my father?Is there something that you don't want me to know about him?"
When I heard me say this, her expression changed slightly and she opened her mouth as if she wanted to say something.
However, just as she was about to say something, my uncle suddenly appeared at the entrance of the living room.
He shot her a fierce glare before he turned to look at me and said in a deep voice, "Emily, you can ask us about anything else, but you can't ask us about your father."
As soon as I saw my uncle looking at me like this, I was so frightened that I took two steps back subconsciously.
The look in his eyes was so frightening that it made me tremble all over.
After that, my uncle said to me in a deep voice, "Don't ask that question again."
As soon as he said this to me, he turned around and left the living room.
It felt like something had pressed down on my chest at this point.
I looked at his retreating figure and I couldn't help but wonder what had happened to make him react like this.
My mother came over and looked at me for a moment before she bent down and touched my head.
She said to me in a gentle tone of voice, "Emily, we don't want to see you get hurt or sad.
There are many things that are not suitable for you to ask about now.
Wait until you've grown up before we tell you about them."
When I heard my mother say this to me, I thought about it for a while before I nodded my head.
After that, I put the photo album back on the tea table and walked to the kitchen with my mother to help her prepare dinner.
"Alright then." My uncle's words ran through my mind for a long time.
"The dinner is ready." My mother's voice interrupted my thoughts.
I looked at the food that had been placed on the table and realized that I didn't have much of an appetite at all.
I just picked up a few pieces of food and ate them at will before I got up and went to my room.
I didn't know why my uncle had reacted so strongly when he found out that I wanted to ask about my father.
It made me feel even more curious about what had happened back then.
When he said that I couldn't ask this question anymore, there was a feeling of finality in his words.
It seemed to imply that the topic of my father could no longer be mentioned.
But why?
What exactly happened?
When I thought of this, a sense of unease rose in my heart once again.
My father's sudden departure had always been a shadow in my heart.
It was like a mystery that had been hidden away in a corner of my heart.
At this moment, it seemed to be stirring restlessly again.
I couldn't help but want to find out what exactly had happened back then.
That incident in the attic happened when I was only six years old.
After that incident occurred.
I didn't think much about it.
But gradually, I began to feel curious about what had happened back then.
I always felt that there were some things between my mother and Uncle Thomas that they didn't want me to know.
And they were all things that were very important.
As time went by.
I seemed to have sensed some secret between them.
Sometimes when they met each other's eyes or when they spoke to each other in low voices.
I could always feel a kind of inexplicable heaviness hanging in their eyes.
At that time, it felt as though they were thinking of something very important.
And it seemed to be something very painful for them to think about.
After so many years had passed.
I also discovered that my mother had changed a lot over these years.
Back then, she was always able to harbor a kind smile on her face no matter what happened.
But now, there was always a touch of sadness hanging in her eyes.
Her eyes were always so deep and dark.
Sometimes when she looked at me.
I could still see a hint of gentleness.
But in this gentleness.
There was always a kind of sadness that made people's hearts ache.
As for Uncle Thomas.
He had always been the same over the years.
He still had that stern expression on his face.
Even if he rarely smiled.
But whenever he saw me, he would always reach out and touch my head gently.
And then he would say to me with a smile on his face.
"Good girl!"
Sometimes when I thought about it.
Sometimes when Uncle Thomas did this to me.
There would always be a strange feeling in my heart.
It felt like they were treating me differently because of something that had happened in the past.
This made me really want to know what had happened back then.
But every time I asked about this matter.
My mother and Uncle Thomas would avoid the question right away.
They would either change the topic or refuse to talk about it.
The more they were like this.
The more I wanted to know what exactly had happened.
As time went by.
Gradually, the innocence of childhood slipped away from me silently.
The first time that I ever realized that something seemed wrong was when I was ten years old and I asked my mother where my father was.
My mother looked at me for a long time at that time before she spoke slowly.
"Emily, something has happened between your father and mother and we are no longer together now.
So you have to be strong and sensible from now on.
Don't ask too much about your father's matters."
When she said this to me, there was also a look of pain in her eyes at that time.
It seems that she still feels very sad about Father's departure even now.
We can't live with them anymore?
Is Dad really not coming back?" When I heard her say this to me, an inexplicable sense of loss rose in my heart at that time.
It felt as though something important had disappeared from me just like that.
