Cherry blossom season

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-23

It's cherry blossom season again. No matter how many years have passed, this is a scene I can never forget. Standing in the sea of flowers, stirred by the spring breeze, petals begin to fall, dancing in my long hair. I recall the promise we made, embracing and watching the sunset together amidst the blossoms…

That was my second spring in high school, and the first time I saw him. From then on, a new chapter in my life began. Our figures, cherishing each other, were once seen in the quiet corridors, the vibrant sports fields, the lush tree-lined paths, and beside the elegant fountain. I don't know why it was him… From the start of the semester, boys were always surrounding me, but he, you could say, was neither particularly noticeable nor outstanding. It was by chance that I caught a glimpse of his eyes: so deep, so bright… and with a hint of childlike innocence. I couldn't tell if it was his reserved appearance or his shy smile that made me fall in love with him. I always loved leaving the classroom with my classmates after school each day, chatting and laughing, taking the same path he always took. If we were lucky enough to brush past each other, I would stop my laughter and wait quietly for him to pass by. I loved that feeling of being so close to him, loved the rhythm of my heartbeat when we passed each other. After he left, I would take a deep breath! This love story began so inexplicably… People always think that happy days pass too quickly, and the time we spent together suddenly felt shorter. The paths on campus no longer seemed so long, and the night still didn't give me the courage to express the turmoil in my heart. Until the second spring arrived, on my birthday, March 4th, I wore my favorite light green jacket and a white tutu with small floral patterns, imagining myself as a princess in a green world. My heart fluttered as I made a promise to him in the spring breeze, to meet him under the blooming cherry blossoms.

Specks of sunlight shone through the gaps in the cherry blossoms onto his face. I could see him; I should say, I could feel the infinite tenderness in his eyes. I can't remember how we got to the top floor of the school building, to a strange door. I'd never been here before, and a surge of nervousness and curiosity welled up inside me. I hesitated, frozen in place. But he gently took my hand and tenderly told me: there was a surprise he'd prepared for me here, a birthday present! Looking into his eyes, I couldn't bring myself to refuse. Then, I made my first concession of the day, closing my eyes as he asked, and he led me into the room.

In my turbulent mind—perhaps I'd considered refusing, considered leaving; but I still involuntarily followed him through that door. "Open your eyes!" His tone was unusually gentle today, giving me a feeling of being the happiest protagonist of the day. With a mix of nervousness and excitement, I eagerly opened my eyes. Before me was a breathtaking sea of flowers. Through the windows of the school building, the brilliant light of the setting sun illuminated the clusters of delicate cherry blossoms, making them even more dazzling; when the wind blew, the colorful, tiny red petals swayed and danced. I knew this was a spot he had carefully chosen; it was his birthday gift to me.

"Come on! Let's sit down and enjoy the beautiful sunset on your birthday." His words interrupted me. Awakening from my reverie, I realized this was a storage room. An unused desk had been used to build a platform in front of the window, covered with a soft mat used in gym class—he had clearly arranged it carefully. Before I could think further, he suddenly swept me up in his strong arms and placed me on the mat. Everything happened so fast. Before I could say no, he jumped up and sat beside me. We leaned against each other, gazing at the boundless sunset outside the window.

"I will give you a home." His voice wasn't quiet, but I felt like I hadn't heard him. I didn't know whether to turn away or wait for him to say it again; all I could hear was the rapid pounding of my heart. He then wrapped his strong arms around me. Startled by this sudden action, I tried to struggle, but all my strength vanished. I felt myself limp in his powerful arms, my mind blank, the only thing I remembered being the breathtaking sea of cherry blossoms before me. I involuntarily tilted my head back, waiting quietly. He lowered his head, and as our lips met, I felt a suffocating sensation spread from my lips throughout my body. I actually cried. Was this happiness or just overwhelming emotion? I kept asking myself.

"I'll give you a home after we graduate," he said to me again, with certainty. I turned my head uncontrollably to meet his lips. He grabbed my shoulders, turned me to face him, and held me tightly in his arms again. The fear of losing me was so powerfully conveyed to me. This was our second kiss. When his warm tongue pried open my dazed lips, this was our first real kiss. I was breathless again, at a loss. I didn't even know where to put my hands. My heart pounded even harder, the "thump-thump" echoing in my ears. His tongue began to dart back and forth in my mouth. I even felt like I was going to vomit, but I didn't want to let go. Our bodies were pressed together, and I could feel his heart pounding as well. His warm breath brushed against my face. At the same time, I felt my lower abdomen contract with each heartbeat, and a little bit of a strange liquid dripped onto my underwear. I suddenly felt an unspeakable sense of shame.

I was afraid to commit. A sliver of rationality remained, but I couldn't find an excuse to end the kiss, because I hadn't lost anything; on the contrary, I was enjoying a kind of pleasure. So, the kiss didn't end, and I didn't want it to. One hand began to caress my back, while the other slid down to my waist, pressing against my buttocks through my skirt. Normally, a touch wouldn't have felt like much, but now it was different. I felt a tingling, comfortable sensation flow through my buttocks down my back, rushing to my brain, making my scalp tingle. I increasingly felt the dampness in my underwear, making me feel nauseous and uncomfortable. Suddenly, as if waking from a dream, I tried to stop him, but his strong arms moved more confidently over my body. This strength made me feel both a woman's softness and a man's persistence; that strength made me feel as if I was waiting for his conquest.

I gave in for the second time, letting go, expectantly waiting for something to happen. I was surprised by my own choice; the only thing I could do was close my eyes, like a victim burying their head in the sand, passively accepting his actions. His hand roamed almost my entire back, then stroked my long hair, cheeks, neck, and slid downwards. When his other hand slipped under my shirt, caressing my lower abdomen and bra, the discomfort felt like a thousand tiny insects biting my body. My legs began to rub against each other uncontrollably, my thighs tightening as I tried to hide the shame from my undershirt.

Suddenly, my chest felt loose; I realized my bra had been opened. The tightness around my chest didn't ease with the bra's release; instead, all the fat in my breasts seemed to concentrate, making them firm and strong. The external constraint transformed into an internal, outward squeezing sensation. At the same time, his hand grabbed my breast, his fingers squeezing it tightly and forcefully. My sensitive breasts immediately felt a slight pain.

"Ah!" I cried out softly, pulling away from his mouth. He probably realized his rudeness and stopped, startled. His shout snapped me back to reality. I immediately crossed my arms over my chest. I don't know how red my face was; my cheeks burned. Glancing at him, I saw his face was red too. When our eyes met, I felt an indescribable shame. I felt incredibly embarrassed; my undershirt seemed soaked. I wanted to cry; my heart ached, and tears welled up.

I started explaining, "I'm not a bad girl, I'm not that kind of person..."

"I love you!" He looked at me with unwavering eyes. I don't remember how many times he repeated it before I finally quieted down. I have to admit I loved hearing it; I had always longed to hear those three words from his own lips.

"But..." I wanted to tell him I didn't hate him, but he wouldn't let me. With the warmth of my lips still lingering, he kissed me again, this time deeper and more passionate.

He easily pushed away my hand that was placed on my chest, replacing it with a gentle touch that caressed my breasts like silk, his fingers lightly pinching my nipple, kneading it gently. He began to lean heavily towards me, and I followed, falling back onto the mat. I felt an indescribable excitement, a fear of this feeling that left me bewildered and increasingly unfamiliar with myself—a completely new self or a stranger? My

rapid heartbeat made me feel breathless, for I had to breathe deeply to alleviate the suffocating fear within me. Suddenly, he pulled away from my lips, whispering in my ear, "You're so beautiful, I can't lose you." Hearing this, shyness and sweetness mingled even more. Only then did I realize that my shirt was completely unbuttoned, almost half my body exposed to the air in the room. My bra, already undone, could no longer conceal my full breasts. Strangely, this time, I forgot to cover my chest with my hands—no, perhaps I didn't want to. I even cooperated by slightly lifting my upper body, letting him remove my coat and bra. Lying beneath him, naked from the waist up, I was surprised by my own boldness, yet also filled with a curious anticipation of what was about to happen.

Every movement of his hand on my chest sent a slight shiver through my body. This was completely different from the sensation of rubbing myself in the shower; it was beyond comfortable. Shyness made me nervous, and my body began to tremble. I kept telling myself that I loved him, that I should accept this expression of love, and perhaps that would help me relax. But the waves of stimulation from my chest nerves made my body tremble uncontrollably. I wanted to scream, but I bit my lip, and this forced restraint gradually eroded my willpower.

His breathing became heavy and rapid, and his hand changed direction, gently stroking across my lower abdomen and moving to my thigh, tracing back and forth along the inner thigh—a very sensitive area for me. Each finger felt like it was plucking at my nerves. Suddenly, I found my entire body becoming sensitive, every movement sending shivers down my spine. I had to slightly twist my body, which made me feel much more comfortable.

His hand continued to roam my legs, very lightly, slowly, and gently, occasionally touching the groin. Each touch felt like an electric shock. I even felt that he was deliberately touching me there, but I wasn't angry because the feeling was pleasurable. Suddenly, he lifted his hand from my underwear, looked at it, and rubbed his fingers together in front of his eyes. I secretly glanced at it and immediately knew what it was. Since we started kissing, the secret I least wanted him to know had been discovered: the fluid that leaked out when my vagina contracted. I quickly buried my head in his chest; I didn't want him to see my face flushed with shame.

"Is it okay?" he asked softly, as if he could read my mind. I didn't know how to answer. I nodded, or perhaps I shook my head; I wasn't sure. I was afraid to see his face, afraid I would give in. I just closed my eyes and let my curiosity run wild. He teased me even more brazenly, focusing his actions on my inner thighs. His hand slipped under my skirt, past the waistband of my underpants, and entered my genitals, until it touched the pubic area. I had never let anyone touch that area before, but the feeling was like a manifestation of love reaching its zenith. Perhaps it was the sense of security provided by my underpants as a last line of defense, but I didn't resist. His tireless praise echoed in my ears, and his fingers continued to glide over my genitals repeatedly. I began to lose consciousness, almost to the point of losing myself. I didn't know what time it was, or where I was. I both longed for something I had never dared to imagine to happen, yet I was also afraid of it happening—afraid of the fleeting nature of this happiness, afraid that everything would be lost and never to return after it occurred.

A groan—no, perhaps it was my desperate, rapid breathing—I don't know how long it lasted, but suddenly I felt a chill on my legs. I realized he had pulled my skirt down to my ankles, and with a gentle kick, he was completely off me. I wanted to say something, but I was limp and powerless; trembling was my only response.

He seemed to stop his movements on me. Just as I was wondering if it was over, I heard him unbuckle his metal belt. I realized what was about to happen. Instinctively, I opened my eyes to see what was happening, but he was already on top of me. He must have been completely naked, because I felt a man's intense pressure for the first time. I could only see his chest and above. I don't know where the strength came from, but I suddenly wanted to push him away. I whispered, begging him not to, but I made a fatal mistake: our eyes met. Through the blur, I saw his eyes, those pleading eyes. My heart softened a little. He asked gently if I didn't like him. I shook my head, but didn't let go of his hand. He continued, "I won't force you, because I've never seen or touched a woman's private parts before. Can you let me rub them a little?" Seeing that I didn't answer, he added, "I won't go inside. Just let me feel it from the outside." Perhaps I believed him, perhaps I was also yearning for him, perhaps resistance was meaningless, perhaps I was weak. After a brief internal struggle, my compromise seemed to betray me, as if telling him that deep down I harbored a desire to be conquered by him.

I covered my face with my hands, afraid to see his eyes again. I was ashamed of my compromise, yet my whole body was burning with inexplicable excitement and curiosity. As if encouraged by something, he began to gently pull down my underwear. His movements were slow but firm. I cooperated by sticking my buttocks up, and the underwear slowly slid over my body. But because I clamped my thighs together, he encountered resistance again. But I had completely lost consciousness, and I no longer had the strength to hold my legs together. It wasn't very difficult; he still managed to expose me completely naked in front of him.

I was either in a daze or dreaming, waiting for his next move. At that moment, curiosity overshadowed all my fear and shyness; I even anticipated his promises to me. He slowly parted my legs, perhaps at a sixty-degree angle, or maybe more. Then, something hard pressed against my genitals. I couldn't help but open my eyes and saw his gentle gaze meeting mine, as if asking me to trust him. I took a deep breath and began to focus on his movements. I wanted to cooperate with him, to express my love for him. I didn't dare think about what his hard thing was, but I knew it must feel good for him, and for me too. That throbbing sensation below was stimulating me. At that moment, he firmly made a promise in my ear—"I will not leave you." My heart instantly fluttered like cherry blossoms in the spring breeze. I secretly felt proud to have this love as beautiful as the cherry blossoms in full bloom. In the sunset, everything became so hazy, and I felt like a cherry blossom bud about to bloom, suddenly wanting to burst into full glory. He seemed excited, as if something was about to happen, his body tensing up. I could only feel his hard thing slowly parting my lower body. I wanted to say no, but before I could utter a sound, I immediately felt a foreign object rapidly entering my body. A tearing, piercing pain shot through my lower body. It was the first time something else had entered me, filling me completely. I finally couldn't help but cry out, my hands grabbing his back helplessly, venting the discomfort. He seemed not to hear me, continuing to penetrate me. This almost made me faint, only the pain of his next thrust brought me back to my senses. Tears streamed down my face. At that moment, all I wanted was for it to end quickly; I wanted to go home.

I can clearly remember every detail, even every sensation. It wasn't the previous comfort, but the unprecedented discomfort of a foreign object entering me. I felt some regret, but even more fear. I had never experienced this before, and no one had ever told me. I suddenly missed my mother so much; she would never let me get hurt. And what was I doing now? I don't know, his movements didn't lessen at all, but became even more intense with his increased breathing, until he stopped when something warm rushed into me. As the foreign object inside me gradually softened, he relaxed a bit, and he pressed down on me as if he had no strength left. Was it over? I didn't dare to move until he started to leave my body, and then I felt as if my lower body had been suddenly emptied, yet it still burned and throbbed with pain.

I don't know what he was thinking at that moment. He sat on the mat, looked at it, and smiled—a happy smile. After a long while, he said to me, "I'm your first man, and I'm so happy." Then he leaned down and hugged me again. Thinking that I had become his woman, thinking of the promise he had made to me, I felt a sense of comfort again. The pain in my body was left behind; I just wanted him to hold me tightly and not let go.

"Does it hurt a lot?" I don't know how much time had passed before he asked me.

This question seemed to awaken my senses. I felt a burning sensation down below, almost numb, almost losing all feeling. I silently nodded in his arms, while the pain shot from my head to my nose, then through my nerves, and finally to my eyes. Finally, tears of pain welled up in my eyes again, mingling with the undried tears on my cheeks, heavy drops falling onto the floral carpet… As I found my underpants to put on, I noticed some bloodstains on the pad near my genitals. Looking down, I saw some thick, reddish-white fluid flowing down my genitals. Seeing me staring blankly, he smiled and comforted me, saying, “This is the testament to our love; that red is your sacred virgin blood.” I didn’t dare look any longer. All I wanted to do was get dressed and rush home. He called after me, but I didn’t stop, nor did I want to. I just wanted to go home, back to my mother’s side, and cry my heart out beside her.

When I got home, no one was there. I rushed to the bathroom, squatted on the floor, and cried my heart out. When I took off my underpants, I discovered there was even more blood on them. I was terrified, not knowing what to do. I was scared; my mind went blank. I hastily put on a sanitary napkin and fell asleep.

This was my eighteenth birthday, a birthday etched in my memory.

The next day, the sanitary napkin wasn't completely clean, but the bleeding had noticeably decreased. He came to find me, and I hid. I tried to sort out my chaotic thoughts because I didn't know what to do! I was terrified. For the next week, I constantly browsed and researched information about relationships between men and women in bookstores and online. I bought pregnancy test strips, but I still couldn't believe it. I lived each day anxiously as my period didn't arrive.

After experiencing certain things, everything in life changed. Among my classmates and friends, I felt I had changed. As for what I had changed into, I didn't know myself. Maybe I just felt that I was a real woman now. More importantly, I felt that I had a man who would love me for a lifetime and had given me a promise.

I had transformed… In the days that followed, I began to accept the pleasure this wonderful moment brought me, secretly making love with him. I gradually understood a lot and gradually became seduced by the excitement my body brought. At school, in hotels, and even at home, I experienced unprecedented stimulation. Of course, during that time together, I also had two abortions for him. When I was pregnant for the first time, I hadn't had my period for over 40 days. I didn't dare go to a big hospital, so I went to a small, inconspicuous clinic. During the examination, the doctor told me I was pregnant. I was terrified and cried. I desperately wanted him to be by my side to comfort me, but he backed down and said nothing. I only remember lying on that cold operating table, feeling something like a sharp instrument moving inside my body. The excruciating pain left me feeling utterly hopeless. Five months after my first abortion, I became pregnant again. I wanted to be rational, but when faced with a monstrous situation, I could only defend myself, unable to fight back. I became pregnant again, and this time, it meant I would suffer for the rest of my life because of my actions. Because both my previous and current surgeries were performed at unregulated clinics with poor hygiene and unprofessional doctors, I suffered severe bleeding. I survived, but I also lost the chance to become a mother! "The sky is gray." I can't see my path. I feel like I'm about to fall into an endless black hole. I feel so helpless, so insignificant. The huge black hole in my heart devours me day after day. And he's not by my side, not offering any words of comfort. He only leaves my weak body lying quietly in that heartbreaking clinic. Several times I wondered if my life had reached the point of no return. I didn't know. I was filled with confusion and bewilderment. But I still let my heart continue to numb my mind. My heart was still thinking of him like a demon. I kept telling myself: For him, I'm willing to lose everything. I'm willing to give everything for him. I increasingly realized that I couldn't live without him. Even if it was inconvenient for him to be with me, I was willing to lie alone at home, enduring the pain from my weakened state, enduring the desolation of his absence, enduring everything I had lost for him.

Seasons change, and my love with him, like fireworks, bloomed brilliantly in an instant, only to vanish in a moment, becoming invisible dust floating in the air. With high school graduation, it became a sealed past. I began to suffer from insomnia, swallowing white pills at night, leaving streaks of love's testimonies on my arms. I stood outside his building all night, waiting for that familiar figure, but he never returned. When the petals fall again, I hope my memories will fade away, that I will forget him, forget the love witnessed by the cherry blossoms.

Later, I heard from classmates that he had several girlfriends, but they all broke up after he got them. His story left me with too much "damage." Memories are bittersweet; promises are always the most beautiful, but tears and sweetness, in those unfulfilled vows, reveal a pain I can never forget. Life goes on, but poor sisters, are you also waiting for the lies that spring will bring next?

[The End]

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Cherry blossom season

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