Miri has recently encountered some trouble.
"Miri, come out for a moment," it was already unknown how many times it had been, under the attention of the whole class, Miri came outside the classroom to face another problem.
The last class in the afternoon, unfortunately, Miri became the last one to leave, and the difficult task of locking the door naturally fell on this small figure.
I hate this heavy lock, Miri recalled the embarrassing scene when he locked the door last time, the poor child used all his strength but still couldn't get this stubborn lock to close. The campus became quieter and quieter, the empty teaching building no longer had any school atmosphere, the silent corridor seemed to chew on Miri's shadow like a monster.
"Wow..." No, crying like this is too childish, even if I cry loudly, it doesn't sound like crying. "Hmm..." Miri finally found a sob that suited the current atmosphere. But it's not useful, it's just too quiet around here, I need to make some noise. Miri cried while struggling to lock the door.
Oh, why is there still someone? Miri caught a glimpse of the stairs at the end of the corridor and immediately stopped making any "noise". Oh no, he must have heard it, how embarrassing.
"Do you need something?" the person asked from a distance.
"Oh, nothing... I'll leave after I lock the door!" Fortunately, the person walked away sensibly. If he came over, it would definitely be embarrassing. My eyes must be red now, it's obvious that I've been crying. I'm in fifth grade! I'm not a crybaby!
But this stubborn lock can't be opened just by persisting. There must be some technique to it. Damn it, no one taught me how to lock the classroom door the first time! The sky was getting dark, hmph, I've done my best, but it's really beyond my ability. If I have to blame someone, I blame the school's neglect of the "locking the classroom door" lesson in their teaching plan! Miri hung the lock on the door and ran away from this sad place.
Fortunately, nothing bad happened, and to prevent being the last one again, I even found a classmate who often locks the door to make up for the missing class. You have to aim at the latch, support it with one hand, and strike it from below with the other hand, and the lock will "click" shut. Miri, who has gained the true skill, calmly packed up his things. Aiming at the keyhole is the key, I must pay attention to it later. If I miss, my hand will probably hurt. Miri has already prepared for locking the door.
Finally, looking at the stubborn lock that had caused him so much trouble, Miri was ready to fight for his dignity.
"Miri! You haven't left yet?" It was the older brother from the neighbor's house who was in sixth grade.
"Um, I'm about to leave." He walked over, "I was in this classroom when I was in fifth grade too," he said, then walked into the classroom and took a look around, "Let's go back together."
"Okay," there was no reason to refuse, but it's a pity that Miri had to put away his prepared fighting stance and pretend to be familiar with the process of picking up his backpack, hanging the lock, aiming at the keyhole, and giving the lock a strike. It was done in one go, clean and neat. See, crybaby, what's there to cry about such a simple thing?
Unfortunately, a locked door is far more painful than an unlocked one for Miri.
"Tell me honestly, did you take our class fee?" The same question, the same corridor, the same glaring sunlight, and the same crying Miri. After several days of interrogation, Miri was becoming mentally exhausted.
Miri didn't understand. Before the teacher pointed out the place where the class fee was placed, he had no idea that the class fee was kept in the classroom.
"Who else was there when you left that day?"
Right, that older brother, he walked around in the classroom, but I was watching him. But I couldn't bear it, I needed the teacher's gaze to shift away so I could breathe properly.
"Oh, the sixth grader, go and call him, I'll ask him."
Miri finally had a chance to briefly escape the piercing gaze of the teacher and the questioning eyes of his classmates, but immediately new anxieties and uneasiness surged up.
I'm sure he didn't do it. I was watching him the whole time, following him. But with something like this happening, how do I tell him? Does this mean I'm questioning his character? I'm a betrayer, a traitor to our friendship. Miri began to blame himself deeply.
After briefly explaining the situation to that older brother, Miri followed behind him like a prisoner going to the execution ground and returned to the familiar corridor. The teacher asked Miri to go back to the classroom first.
Although this kind of gaze had been repeated for the past few days, Miri still felt like thousands of arrows were aimed at him. He lowered his head and returned to his seat, his eyes silently turning red in the quiet classroom.
Obviously, they didn't come to any decisive conclusion in their discussion, and Miri still needed to undergo further interrogation.
"Mom, how about you give me five yuan, and I'll give it to her? I feel so uncomfortable," Miri finally couldn't help but tell his mom about the situation. At home, he could freely express the grievances he suffered at school and be a crybaby.
"Did you do it?"
"No, but I feel so uncomfortable. She calls me out every day after class."
"No."
Miri already knew what would happen next. When this kind of situation arises, Miri suddenly becomes calm, colder and colder, a sudden shiver, finally understanding the feeling of numbness.
The next day, after the teacher finished the class, Miri closed his textbook, lowered his head, and waited for the teacher's routine interrogation. Huh? It's been a minute, why hasn't the teacher called me yet? Miri twisted his body. He saw that his desk mate had already finished a homework problem. Miri couldn't help but look up at the teacher, only to see her sitting quietly at the podium, flipping through the pages of a book, without any intention of interrogating.
The culprit must have been caught! It must prove that I am innocent!
Miri quietly waited for the teacher to announce the result of the case. One day passed, two days, three days, a week... It seemed that overnight, everyone had forgotten about this big case, forgotten about the disappearance of the five yuan, forgotten about the tears I shed in the hallway.
Miri suddenly understood something, no longer waiting for the so-called result, it just seemed to end here when Miri recalled his elementary school days.