PAINNY, author of Hongjie's short stories

page views:1 Publication date:2022-03-09

Midnight silence becomes empty, long-forgotten memories blur, and feelings begin to fade. I think and write haphazardly, simply for you, whom I've followed for so many years, and for the feeling of missing you.
I especially loved spending my winter and summer vacations at my grandma's house during elementary school. Back then, her house was my paradise. Even though it wasn't carefree there, even though she didn't give me pocket money or cook any of my favorite dishes, I still loved it because of Sister Hong. Only I called her Sister Hong; everyone else called her Little Hong. I remember even younger children called her that, but only I called her Sister Hong. Sister Hong was about six years older than me. When I was little, six years seemed like a lot; back then, she seemed like a young aunt to me.
She was probably only a middle school graduate then. I was very cute as a child, and I pretended to be polite. I had a sweet tongue and was very likable. Especially Hongjie's parents; they always invited me over whenever they had something good to eat. Hongjie also loved playing with me. And it wasn't just me; many kids liked to hang out at her house. Back then, we were all so innocent.
I think I usually watched the good TV programs at her house, maybe because her family and she were all easygoing. When I was in fifth grade, I was more aware of things between boys and girls, and I encountered an embarrassing situation. It was a hot summer day, and Grandma's TV had one less channel than Hongjie's, so I wanted to go to her house to watch TV. When I got there, I found the gate was locked; I remembered that neighbors usually only locked their doors at night. Even though I felt someone was home, I was curious, so I climbed over the wall and jumped into Hongjie's house. Her curtains were drawn, and the dining room window wasn't fully closed.
A gust of wind blew a crack in the curtains, and through it I saw Sister Hong taking a bath, her back to me. Her snow-white skin contrasted sharply with her jet-black hair—the contrast of black and white was striking. I already knew Sister Hong was fair-skinned; I'd noticed her face was pale before, but I never imagined her body was even paler than her face.
The dazzling white light made me stand there dumbfounded, frozen in place, until she turned around and saw me. Only then did I remember to run, fleeing like a wisp of smoke. For the first few days, I was terrified—terrified of seeing her again, afraid she would report me. I hid inside the house, only occasionally relieving myself in the yard. My heart was in my throat until the end of summer vacation before I could finally relax a little.
Before winter break, I hesitated for a long time about whether to make up some excuse not to go to my grandma's house. But in the end, I gritted my teeth and went anyway. When I ran into Sister Hong again, she acted like nothing had happened. The more she acted like that, the bolder I seemed to become. Sometimes I thought, how wonderful it would be to see her again.
I also regret not having looked more closely back then. Unlike my grandmother's house, Hongjie's family didn't have a public toilet in the yard; they had to walk a distance to a public toilet each time. Once, I saw her leave with toilet paper through a crack in the door, so I ran to the public toilet ahead of time. Luckily, no one was inside. I squatted there and waited.
Actually, my thought was disgusting; I just wanted to hear her pee. I listened for ages, but there was no sound. Finally, I heard footsteps, but nothing else. I ran out and saw her standing at the door. I greeted her, calling out, "Sister Hong." She seemed happy to see me.
"That's great, it's dark inside and I'm too scared to go in, you'll come with me."
I was taken aback. "I can't go into the women's restroom."
"It's okay, no one knows anyway."
I still refused, saying, "How can a boy go into the girls' restroom? People will laugh at me if they find out."
She thought for a moment and maybe couldn't hold it in any longer. "If you don't keep me company, I'll tell other people that you peeked at me while I was showering." Naively, I was blackmailed, haha.
The women's restroom was actually a bit larger than the men's, perhaps because there were no urinals, and it was also cleaner. No wonder she was hesitant to go in; there wasn't a single crack or gap, and not a ray of light could get in. Was this design to prevent peeping? She pulled a red candle from her pocket, lit it, and...
She told me not to turn around. I obeyed, but carefully listened to her movements, how she took off her pants, how she squatted down, how she breathed, the pleasure of the fluid flowing out, and how it washed over the cement floor.
That time, I almost fantasized about him coming to the bathroom to find me, but unfortunately he didn't.
One day, her parents came to ask her grandmother to help take care of her, as her parents were going on a long trip. Of course, her grandmother wouldn't refuse. I was incredibly excited. We had originally planned for her to stay at our house and eat there.
I only remembered I had a TV series to watch in the evening, but the channel wasn't available on my grandma's TV. My grandma is the kind of person who can't sleep when she's in a different place, so she decided I should stay at her house to keep her company.
That day she wore a cotton pajama set that was quite rare at the time, while I sat on the sofa in a sweater and long johns.
The power went out halfway through the TV series, plunging the room into darkness.
"What bad luck," I complained. "Let's go back to Grandma's," I suggested.
"Forget it, stop fussing and go to sleep."
"I'm scared." I am indeed afraid of the dark.
"What are you afraid of, man? What are you afraid of?"
"There are ghosts tonight." I said this on purpose to scare her, but the words startled me as well.
"Don't talk nonsense." She was also getting scared.
I remember back then, power outages were frequent, and candles were practically a necessity in every household. The candlelight illuminated a flushed face. Back then, we hadn't heard of admiring a beauty under a lamp; we just felt we could hear the heartbeat.
We slept in the same bed fully clothed. I started rambling on and on, bragging about how I'd gotten into fights and how I was always the center of attention. She also shared some so-called "personal thoughts," like what clothes looked good and what to wear, which I couldn't quite make heads or tails of it.
She readily agreed, claiming to be an expert. The more we chatted, the happier we became, and before we knew it, we realized our hands were clasped together. The candles burned out, and she began to feel sleepy, but I was incredibly excited!
"Why do you talk so much?" she said, yawning.
"If you hate me, I won't say anything."
"No, were you quite popular with the girls at school?"
"No, the female classmates are all afraid of me."
"Nonsense, what are you afraid of?"
"Afraid I'm a hooligan? I am a hooligan." Perhaps it's as if the more badly they portray themselves, the less bad they prove they are.
Unexpectedly, she said, "Show your lewdness to your older sister!"
I said okay, and went up to her and pulled her into my arms. She broke free from me, saying, "Stop it."
I tickled her lower back, and she laughed and said "You're so annoying!" before starting to tickle mine too. We laughed and rolled around on the bed. Back then, I was actually quite wild and childish. I rolled over and pinned her down, my hands holding hers, my bottom straddling her chest, feeling something soft and yielding beneath me.
I shifted my bottom down a bit and sat on her lap. She tried hard to push me off, but failed. She pleaded, "You're a boy after all, I was wrong. Get off me." As soon as I got off, she came over and started tickling me again. We started playing around again. In the end, she lost again. I climbed on top of her again...
This time, I sat directly on her chest. She started off playing around with me, but then I sat on her like that, making it hard for her to breathe. No matter how much she begged, I wouldn't get off. Every time she rolled over, I could feel my erection touching her breasts; even through our clothes, it felt good. "Get off, stop messing around, I give up."
I won't get down. "Sister's tired, you can get down."
"No, you're lying to me."
"Sister, I'm not kidding you, come down now,"
"No way, this feels so good," I said, and Ai twisted her waist, feeling my penis soft against her breasts.
"Get down, I'll make you more comfortable."
I don't believe it.

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PAINNY, author of Hongjie's short stories

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