Chen Chen likes to write with a ballpoint pen. The head of the ballpoint pen is round, and the words written by Chen Chen are round.
Chen Chen likes to write on the snow-white paper with a light horizontal grid, and the written words are also light. The words written by the ballpoint pen are fragrant.
This is Chen Chen’s favorite pen, the white pen barrel. At the top of the pen barrel sits the head of a little boy. A thin stick is put on the top of the boy’s head, and the stick is pushed down and it is inserted. Into the boy’s head, and the boy’s nose will grow like a pinocchio. When Chen Chen didn’t write, he liked to press the little stick at once, and it inserted into the boy’s head at once.
Click.
Click.
The boy’s nose becomes longer and shorter. But he smiled.
In the exam today, Chen Chen could not answer the question. She bit her lower lip and pressed the pen at once.
Click.
Click.
At night, Chen Chen had a dream. In the dream a little boy was crying at her.
It hurts, Chen Chen.
The little boy looked at Chen Chen sadly.
Taking classes during the day, Chen Chen presses the pen while listening to the class.
Click.
Click.
Who clicks the pen at once? The teacher asked.
Chen Chen put out his tongue and put the pen on the table. The little boy’s face was smiling to the ceiling.
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Chen Chen dreamed of the little boy again at night.
Chen Chen, stop pressing my head, it hurts.
The boy is very angry.
Taking a physical education class today, set a long jump. When Chen Chen landed, she held the ground with her hands to maintain balance. She felt that her right thumb was stabbed with something. It was a thorn of a brown plant. Chen Chen pulled it out and threw it away.
The next is the composition class. The subject is my teacher. Chen Chen bit his lower lip, and can’t think of how to write it. She still pressed the stick on the little boy’s head with the thumb of her right hand.
Click.
Click.
The boy’s nose became longer and shorter. But he still grinned.
Eh.
Chen Chen shouted, and the place where he was stabbed yesterday started to hurt.
Can’t press the pen anymore, Chen Chen stared at the question in a daze. Until school was over, everyone went home, and Chen Chencai was the last to hand in the composition.
The little boy came to Chen Chen again in the dream.
Chen Chen, you can no longer press my head. Haha.
The boy is very proud. Laughing gruffly.
The next day Chen Chen was asked by his teacher to find his parents. The teacher said that Chen Chen’s composition failed.
My teacher is the worst teacher in the world. In class, he only asked the children who gave him gifts to answer questions. My parents never gave gifts to the teacher, and the teacher never asked me to answer questions. At the same table, I was beaten with rubber, and the teacher asked me to punish me because the father at the same table was the director. The teacher also often asked Xia Xue to make up classes in his office.Afraid that she didn’t want to go, she also said that the teacher wouldn’t tell the adults, or else Xia Xue would not be the literary commissioner. Torn off.
Mom and dad went to the teacher’s house with a gift to apologize. Chen Chen wrote her homework at home. She cried while writing. The little boy on the pen looked at her with a smile.
The light went out and turned on again.
Chen Chen stopped crying, she wiped her eyes and began to do her homework. She wrote in the workbook:
The father at the same table is the director. Every day a driver drove four circles of cars to pick her up. She said that her father was drunk every day and came home at midnight. She said that there are many houses in her family. During the winter vacation, she and her parents went to live in Hainan’s house. We are winter, Hainan or summer, so it’s not cold at all…