The Truth on the Last Page of the Diary

My name is Reagan Scott, and I'm eighteen years old.
The birth date on my ID says early autumn, but Mother always says I was actually born at the end of winter.
That year, the mountains were buried in heavy snow. Father, Alex Scott, grew impatient waiting for the midwife to arrive and almost threw me, wrapped in rags, into a snowdrift just after I was born.
It was Mother, using the last of her strength after giving birth, who clung to his leg, hitting her forehead until it bled, pulling me back from the brink of death.
Mother was just twenty when she had me, while Father was already fifty.
The villagers always whispered behind our backs, saying Mother was traded by Father for the family's old yellow ox.
When they said this, they never once spared a thought for me or older sister Fiona Scott, as if we were just two trees that couldn't speak.
From as far back as I can remember, Mother would often stare off blankly toward the lands beyond the Great Mountains.
Her eyes shone bright, like stars in the mountain sky, but whenever she spoke of the world beyond, that light would dim, turning into an endless, thick fog.
She told me more than once that she wanted to break free from the mountain that held her captive.
"Reagan, do you know? Beyond the mountains, there are buildings that reach so high, cars that run faster than rabbits, and you can eat white rice without ever planting a single crop."
Every time Mother said these words, she would hold me close, her fingers gently stroking my hair, "One day, I'll take you and your older sister away from here, and we'll never come back."
I was still little then, unable to understand what tall buildings or cars were; I only knew that when Mother said those words, there was a longing in her voice that I couldn't understand.
But I didn't dare respond, because I had seen Father lose his temper.
Once, Mother merely mentioned during dinner that she wanted to "see what it was like beyond the mountains," and Father threw the bowl in his hand onto the ground; shards scattered and cut a long gash on Mother's arm.
Since then, Mother rarely spoke of the world beyond the mountains, but the times she looked toward The Great Mountains only grew more frequent.

When I was eight, Mother finally found her chance.
That day was market day in the village, and Father was going to the neighboring village to drink, saying he needed to discuss buying fertilizer with Sam Wilson from the next village.
When he left, he had drunk half a bowl of rice wine, his face flushed, and he grumbled as he warned Mother that if she dared slack off and didn't feed the pigs, he would break her legs when he returned.
After Father left, Mother immediately pulled me and my older sister inside.
She dragged an old cloth bag out from under the bed; inside were two faded old clothes and a few sweet potatoes she had secretly saved.
"Fiona, Reagan, we're leaving now."
Mother's voice was soft, yet carried an unwavering firmness. "Your father has gone drinking; he won't be back until dark. We need to take this chance—maybe we can make it to town."
Once we get to town, we'll find the police. They'll help us.
My older sister Fiona Scott is two years older than me; she has long been hoping to get away from here.
As soon as she heard Mother's words, she nodded immediately and reached for the cloth bag.
I looked into Mother's anxious yet hopeful eyes, but suddenly, panic welled up inside me.
I remembered a few days ago, Father got drunk and sat on the doorstep talking with Ben Clark from the village.
He said that if Mother ever dared to run away, he would break her legs, then sell me and my sister off to the distant mountains, to those old bachelors who could never find wives.
"Ben Clark, don't worry, Alex Scott's woman won't run away."
"If she dares to run, I'll make her understand what it means to be worse off than dead."
When Father said those words, the fierce look in his eyes is something I still can't forget.
I was terrified.
I was afraid that if Mother ran away, Father would actually sell me and my older sister.
I was even more afraid that Father would, just as he said, beat Mother until she was worse off than dead.
Just as Mother and my older sister pulled open the door, ready to take their first step, I suddenly shouted loudly, "Father! Mother is trying to take us away!"
My voice rang out loud, echoing through the quiet courtyard.
Father in the inner room was awakened; he was probably still not fully sober, grumbling as he stumbled out, holding a shovel used to scoop pig manure.
"You b*stard! How dare you run away!"
Father's eyes instantly reddened when he saw Mother and Fiona at the door; he raised the shovel and brought it down hard on Mother's leg.
"Ah ——"
Mother's scream was like a sharp knife, stabbing into my ears.
I saw Mother's leg bend at a strange angle, and blood quickly seeped out, staining her pants red.
My older sister cried out in fright, and Mother collapsed to the ground, trembling all over with pain.
Father was still upset and raised the shovel again, ready to hit Mother once more. I hurried over and grabbed his leg: "Father, please stop, Mother knows she was wrong!"
Holding onto his leg, Father couldn't strike again.
He was breathing heavily, glanced at Mother lying on the ground, then at me, and finally threw the shovel down, snarling, "You're being sensible."
If you hadn't been here today, I swear I would have beaten that wretched woman to death!
After that day, Father found a thick iron chain and locked Mother in the pigsty in the backyard.
The pigsty was filthy and stank terribly, the floor covered with pig manure and rotten mud; it was drafty in winter and unbearably hot in summer.
Every time I secretly brought food to Mother, I'd see her curled up in the corner of the pigsty, covered with a thin layer of straw, her eyes filled with despair.
Once, when Father went to work in the fields, I secretly brought Mother two hot sweet potatoes.
Mother took the sweet potato but didn't eat it; she just looked at me, tears streaming down her face.
"Reagan, why did you wake Father?"
You know, if we had run a little faster that day, we could have made it to town.
Mother's voice was soft, but it landed on my heart like a stone.
I didn't dare look into Mother's eyes; I just lowered my head and whispered, "I'm afraid Father will hurt you. I'm scared he'll sell me and my older sister."
Mother was silent for a long time after hearing me, then finally sighed and pressed the sweet potato back into my hand: "You eat it. I'm not hungry."
Since then, Mother rarely spoke to me anymore.
She always sat alone in the pigsty, staring towards The Great Mountains, the light in her eyes slowly fading.

When I was ten, my older sister hid a cloth strip.
That day, I came home from school and saw my sister secretly hiding in the firewood room, holding a white cloth strip with words written on it in red.
Curious, I walked over and asked, "Sister, what are you holding?"
Startled when she saw me, my sister quickly hid the cloth strip behind her back.
But I still saw the words on the cloth strip. Though I didn't know many characters, I recognized the word that meant "help."
"This is what Mom told me to hide."
My older sister couldn't keep it from me any longer and whispered, "Mom took advantage of Dad's distraction, cut her finger on a shard of glass, and wrote an SOS letter in her own blood. It told how she was trafficked and named the village where we live."
Hearing this, my heart suddenly panicked: "So who are you going to give this cloth strip to?"
"I'm going to give it to the police at the station when I go to town tomorrow to buy salt."
My older sister's eyes shone, "As soon as the police see this letter, they'll come to save Mom, and we can finally leave this place."
I looked at the cloth strip in my older sister's hand and remembered how Dad would lose his temper.
I was afraid that if my older sister handed the cloth strip to the police, Dad would hit her just like he hit Mom.
What scared me even more was that Dad might sell us all.
That night, I tossed and turned, unable to sleep.
I thought of Mom locked in the pigsty, my older sister's hopeful eyes, and Dad's fierce expression.
In the end, I decided to tell Father.
The next morning, my older sister took the cloth strip, preparing to secretly go to town.
I saw my older sister tuck the cloth strip into the hem of her clothes and immediately ran to find Father.
"Father, my older sister hid a cloth strip with writing on it; she wants to take it to the police in town!"
I grabbed Father's sleeve and shouted.
When Father heard my words, his face instantly changed.
He immediately put down what he was doing and ran out with me, just in time to see my older sister about to leave.
"You hateful girl! How dare you conspire with your mother!"
Father grabbed my older sister's arm and dragged her inside.
He took a rope down from the ceiling beam, hung my older sister from it, then found a belt and started whipping her body with it.
"Smack! Smack! Smack!"
The sound of the belt striking my older sister's body made my heart pound with fear.
My older sister's cries grew weaker and weaker, and she finally passed out before Father stopped.
Father took my older sister down from the ceiling beam, threw her on the ground, and said viciously, "Next time you dare conspire with your mother again, I'll break your legs!"

That night, I secretly went to see my older sister.
She was lying on the ground, her body covered in purple bruises, tears still streaming down her face.
When she saw me, her eyes were filled with a venomous resentment—a look I had never seen before.
"Reagan Scott, why did you tell Father?"
Are you like him, not wanting us to leave this place?
Her voice was soft but like a knife, piercing straight into my heart.
I wanted to explain to her that I was only worried about her getting hurt, but I didn't know how to put it into words.
I could only stand there, watching my older sister, tears falling endlessly.
From then on, there was a layer of resentment in my older sister's gaze that I couldn't understand.
She stopped talking to me and stopped playing with me, as if I were a stranger.
After Mother found out, she just sat silently in the pigsty, not saying a word.
When I looked into her eyes, besides despair, there was a sorrow I couldn't understand.
Day by day, I slowly grew up.
Father's health kept getting worse; he always drank, and after drinking, he would lose his temper, sometimes even hitting Mother and my older sister.
Every time I saw Father lose his temper, I would take the initiative to go over, offer him water, rub his back, trying to ease his anger.
The people in the village all called me ungrateful, saying I had forgotten the suffering Mother and Fiona went through, only trying to please Father.
But what they didn't know was, I just wanted Father to lose his temper less, to beat Mother and Older sister less.
I didn't even know when these days would ever end.

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