The Tragedy (Author: Northern Pervert - First-person narrative)

Tragedy 　　Author

: Northern Pervert 　　Word Count :
6000

********** ...　　　　********** 　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　...　　　　　　　　　　　　Yet, in that warm and harmonious family, a nightmare suddenly descended upon them during that era, without any warning, so sudden and so terrifying. 　　I remember it was early spring of 1974, when everything on earth was reviving. The pace of the Cultural Revolution was unstoppable . My upright father and virtuous mother were taken away from our home by the rebels. 　　I was 16 years old that year. Due to work and school closures, I could only stay at home, discussing poetry with my father every day, and my mother teaching me to sing on the family organ. But even this life was ruthlessly shattered. 　　In the morning, my father's most beloved student, wearing a red armband and a green military uniform, shouted slogans of "rebellion is justified" and led my parents out of the house. 　　I ran and cried, following the crowd to the school playground. My father and mother, labeled as "stinking intellectuals, " stood on the school playground's exercise platform, their hands tied and placards hanging around their necks, to be criticized. 　　Those students, whom my father and mother cherished like their own lives, brandished belts and waved signs proclaiming "Long Live Chairman Mao!" They mercilessly criticized my parents, the teachers who loved them most. 　　From that day on, I rarely saw my parents. We lived in the dormitory assigned by the school, but because my parents had been confiscated for their criticism, the Revolutionary Committee, out of humanitarian considerations, arranged for me to live in . The 5-square-meter room could barely hold anything except a bed. Almost everything in the house was taken away; that's when I understood what ransacking meant. 　　Except for my and my parents' everyday clothes, everything else was taken. My father's cherished calligraphy and paintings, and my mother's most beloved organ, were all ruthlessly burned and smashed, euphemistically called "destroying the Four Olds. 　" Even my mother's silk underwear was taken. I cried and screamed, trying to snatch it back, but how could a 16-year-old girl like me be a match for those young Red Guards? Those were my mother's intimate underwear; to have them in the hands of a group of immature boys was unbearable. 　　At that time, the Revolutionary Committee gave me 5 yuan a month for living expenses, and I was responsible for cleaning all the classrooms in the school. Although construction and school were suspended, the school buildings and factories could not be destroyed. Every day at school, watching my parents being criticized and beaten by the students they were once most proud of, my heart was broken. My mother was imprisoned in a separate room in the administration office , and my father was imprisoned in the bicycle shed. My upright father couldn't bear everything at that time and committed suicide one night a year later. I was 17 years old that year, and I remember it very clearly; it was the summer of 1975. 　　My father's death did not awaken the rebels in the slightest. My mother continued to be criticized and paraded through the streets enduring a life of shame. I know that my mother had long wanted to go with my father, but she couldn't bear to leave me, her only daughter. It wasn't until later, after some events, that my mother embarked on the road to heaven, following my father. 　　In 1975, I was 17 years old, a beautiful young woman. My mother was a beautiful woman herself, virtuous and elegant, with the poise of a well-bred lady. I inherited her good qualities, and at 17, I was already graceful young woman. What should have been a source of pride for a woman brought indelible scars in that era, wounds that remain unhealed to this day. 　　In the summer of 1975, after my father's death, my mother seemed to lose her vitality. She became numb to criticism sessions, public humiliation , and even beatings. One summer night, I was crying alone at home, reminiscing about my happy childhood and the laughter I shared with my parents, when there was a knock on the door. I opened the door to our small, five-square-meter storage room, which was my home at the time. The director of the Revolutionary Committee stood in front of . Before I could react, he had already entered. 　　The director of the Revolutionary Committee, surnamed Zhang, was an old soldier, around 50 years old at the time, who had participated in the War of Resistance Against Japan, the War of Liberation, and the Korean War. His wife died in the Liberation War, and now he is the director of the Revolutionary Committee here, in charge of...

Holding the power of life and death. After entering the room, Director Zhang looked around, but there wasn't much to see; the 5-square-meter room
was easily identifiable.

"Xiaoli, what have you been busy with lately? Is work hard?" the director asked as he looked around.
To me, all this was just idle chatter. What could I be busy with? Cleaning the school. My monthly
allowance of 5 yuan was barely enough to survive. Seeing that I didn't speak, Director Zhang sat down on my bed. What happened next
was the beginning of a life-changing event.

"Xiaoli, I didn't come here today for anything else, just to see you. Haven't seen your mother in a long time, have you?

Do you miss her? It's getting cold; you should take some clothes to your mother." Director Zhang said, lighting
a cigarette. His eyes were fixed on me.

"Director, can I go see my mother? I miss her so much." Hearing Director Zhang's words, my eyes lit up.
Could I see my mother? As I spoke, tears streamed down my face. It had been almost a year since I
'd truly seen my mother. I'd only seen her on the criticism platform, paraded through the streets, and growing
increasingly haggard. How I longed to see her again!

"Your mother's case is a political issue; visits aren't allowed. But seeing you isn't easy either, and you've grown up. I
can help you find a way to see your mother. Come, come sit down. Uncle Zhang will help you find a way
to see your mother," Director Zhang said, pulling me to sit beside him. "If you listen to Uncle Zhang
, I'll let you see your mother the day after tomorrow." [Full text] Director Zhang then pulled me onto his lap.

"Director, what are you doing? Let go of me!" I cried, pushing him away.

"What? Don't you want to see your mother anymore? It's getting cold, don't you want to bring her some clothes? Your father is dead, and your mother
is still my prey. Don't let her age fool you, she's almost 40, she's quite pretty. So many
young Red Guards, if I hadn't stopped them, your mother would have been raped to death long ago. Your Uncle Zhang isn't forcing you today. If you say
no, I'll turn around and leave right now, and you can forget about seeing your mother. I won't care about the rest of the time, let those
young Red Guards who have been eyeing your mother have their fun with her. I also want to see
what it's like for such a refined lady like your mother to be gang-raped." Director Zhang stared intently at me.

Seeing that I didn't speak, he grabbed my breasts, tearing at my clothes as he
squeezed . I was truly terrified, truly terrified of what my mother would be
like, as he described.

I was like a frightened little mouse, not
knowing how to refuse this drooling wolf. All I knew was that my clothes were instantly stripped off.

Director Zhang threw me onto the only bed in that tiny 5-square-meter room. His foul-smelling mouth
pounded against my face, ears, and neck, his rough hands roughly kneading my breasts, while his
hard, iron-like penis pressed against my stomach. I silently wept, letting him lick, suck,
and bite my body.

He grew increasingly frenzied, scraping and biting my breasts with his teeth, tearing at my tender nipples. His rough
hands forcefully reached between my legs, his calloused fingers rubbing my genitals,
causing a burning pain in my tender virginity.

Finally, in a tearing pain, his hard, iron-like penis plunged into
my vagina. He forcefully covered my mouth to prevent me from screaming, thrusting his penis into me forcefully. I
felt as if my genitals were being torn apart, desperately shaking my head and pushing him away.

But he was too strong. He held me tightly, pinning me down. He sucked on my nipples forcefully
, thrusting in and out with frantic force. I felt like I was in hell. Finally, this sensation stopped with a heavy groan from
Director Zhang .

He pressed heavily on me, his lower body occasionally jerking. I could feel a large amount of fluid gushing from his
penis into the depths of my vagina, warm currents surging through my core.

"Go see your mother the day after tomorrow with your clothes on. If you want to live well, you have to be obedient. You and your mother have to
live. If you don't want to suffer, you have to serve me well," Director Zhang said, sitting on the edge of the bed, grabbing my
breasts . My heart was filled with humiliation and bitterness, but what could I do? The director of the Revolutionary Committee
was practically a local tyrant back then. He could criticize whomever he wanted, kill whomever he wanted, and even killing was legal.
Exchanging my body for my mother's safety, for us to survive, was probably the best option for me.

But what I didn't expect was that this was just the beginning of a nightmare.

After washing my genitals, which were covered in Director Zhang's semen, I
drifted . In my dream, I was thinking that I would soon be able to take clean clothes to see my mother.
After getting up, I packed some warm clothes for my mother and sat on the bed, silently weeping. There was both physical pain and
heartfelt joy. No matter what, no matter what I had to pay, I could finally see my
mother, whom I had missed day and night, and I could rush into her arms and cry.

The day I had been waiting for finally arrived. In the morning, I took the clothes for my mother
and the school's administration office, because my mother was being held alone in the small room that used to be part of the administration office.

On the stairs, I was stopped by two Red Guards who said it wasn't possible now; Director Zhang was interrogating my mother,
and I should come back in the afternoon. I was puzzled because my mother wasn't a major political prisoner. Since her imprisonment,
I hadn't heard of any interrogation; she was just criticized and paraded through the streets. Why would she need an interrogation?

But seeing the two Red Guards' indifferent expressions, I didn't dare ask further and could only retreat downstairs. However, out of
curiosity , I climbed up to the second floor from the boiler room behind the school. I missed my mother terribly. I thought,
"Director Zhang has taken my body and had his fun, so he's agreed to let me see her. Maybe those two Red Guards don't
know , so sneaking up shouldn't be a problem." So I quietly climbed to the second floor and tiptoed to
the entrance of the administration office. I heard a man talking and a woman sobbing inside.

"Teacher Cai, think it over carefully. My patience is limited. No one has been
rough with you for so long; you should understand what's going on. Look at those individual female political prisoners; aren't they all being fucked
to death ? And those Red Guards, with all those young men, if I hadn't been holding them back, would you be in this situation today? I bet you..."
"You were already thoroughly violated before the old man died. Besides, Xiaoli has grown up. She's 17 and quite beautiful.
Don't you want to meet her? As long as you make me feel good, I'll arrange for you and your daughter to meet right away. If you're still
stubborn , I'll turn around and leave. Countless Red Guards will come in to serve you properly, and then I'll go
and serve your precious daughter properly. Think about it carefully. If you've thought it through, come over here yourself." The voice was that of
Director Zhang.

My mind went blank. What did he mean? He had just slept with me, forcibly taken my
virginity, and promised to let me see my mother. Why was he saying these things to her? As I was thinking, I heard
the woman's sobbing in the room grow louder. I couldn't help but peek through the small window at the back door.

Director Zhang was sitting upright in a chair, smoking a cigarette, while my mother was kneeling on the ground opposite him, crying silently. Not
long after , as if she had come to a realization, Mom smoothed her disheveled hair and slowly moved closer to Director Zhang
. Director Zhang said nothing, holding a cigarette in one hand and grabbing Mom's hair with the other. "You slut, take it off
yourself . Do you expect me to do it?" he said, pulling Mom's hair. Mom was forced to look up. Seeing
her tear-streaked face, my heart broke. But what could I do? I could only weep silently, watching
this beast treat my mother like this.

Mom cried silently, taking off her clothes. Her few pieces of clothing scattered on the ground.
I knew that Mom's heart was dead. A young lady from a respectable family, forced to
undress if it weren't for me, Mom might have committed suicide by smashing her head against the wall. But for me, for her only
beloved daughter, she chose to endure humiliation. Her clothes, her pants, were removed one by one, and Mom's naked body was exposed before
Director Zhang 's eyes.

Director Zhang, breathing heavily, suddenly pulled Mom into his arms, burying his head in her chest, and
forcefully grabbing and kneading her buttocks from behind. Mom, head tilted back, eyes closed, biting her lip, endured
Director Zhang 's humiliation. Suddenly, Director Zhang turned her around and forcefully pressed her onto the table, her buttocks raised high.
He forcefully spread her white, tender buttocks, completely
exposing to his eyes.

Director Zhang forcefully inserted his large hand between Mom's legs, thrusting in and out, slapping
her while shouting vulgar words like "slut" and "bitch.

" When Mom's buttocks were red and swollen from the slaps, Director Zhang forcefully
thrust his hard, purplish penis into her lower body. Grabbing his mother's buttocks with both hands, his lower body thrusting incessantly until a low growl filled the air as he
ejaculated all his filthy semen inside her. Only then did Director Zhang, satisfied, pull up his pants and
say to his mother as he walked towards the door, "Put your clothes on. I'll call your daughter to come see you later. I keep my word; that old cunt was really satisfying.
You'll get your fun later."

After Director Zhang left, I wiped away my tears and hurried back to the entrance of the administration office, but I didn't go in.
I wanted to give my mother time to get dressed. I couldn't let her be so
humiliated ; this might be the only thing I could do for her right now. When I saw my mother, we
embraced and wept bitterly. My mother fussed over me, and I inquired about her health. Neither of us mentioned
the humiliation we had suffered at the hands of Director Zhang.

From then on, I could visit my mother more often, on the condition that Director Zhang would periodically come to my
tiny 5-square-meter room to vent his lust. When I tried to visit her, I was often stopped, told I was being
interrogated and needed to come back later. The Red Guards on guard said their expressions during the interrogations were incredibly lewd.

Each time I was stopped, I would climb from the boiler room to the second floor, only to witness my mother being
repeatedly humiliated. Not only Director Zhang, but also Commander Zhang, a Red Guard rebel at the time—Director
Zhang's nephew from the Revolutionary Committee—was present.

On one occasion, I even saw Commander Zhang with three of his subordinates; the four of them were humiliating my
mother . Like animals, they took turns humiliating her—one ejaculating, another finishing,
some fondling her breasts, others grabbing her thighs and stomach—for over two hours before finally leaving
satisfied .

I felt that back then, my mother and I were like prostitutes in that abandoned school, except I only
served Director Zhang, while my mother had to serve most of the men.

This continued until 1976, the year I received a spot to go to the countryside.
When I ran to my mother's room to tell her the news, she took a deep breath, smiled, and stroked my head, saying
the hard times were over.

On the day I left the city, my mother committed suicide, dying in that school she loved all her life, yet which had left her
with endless humiliation.

And on the morning of her death, she had been gang-raped by several Red Guards; it was said that when she died, her vagina was still
flowing with the foul-smelling semen of those Red Guards. Meanwhile, I had already boarded the train leaving the city, beginning my
journey as a sent-down youth.

(To be continued)

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