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「故事·听力」I Met My Dead Father In The Street

LearnAndRecord 2022-07-26

I Met My Dead Father In The Street. They Lied To Me!

Hey guys, my name is Richard, and I`m 17 years old. I've had a lot of stress this year. I'm graduating from high school, going to college, and getting ready to move to another city. And to add to all of this, recently, a completely crazy thing is happening to me - I'm seeing the ghost of my dead father.


I don't remember much about him. When I was 5, we were driving home, dad lost control, and we crashed, and only me and mom survived. So instead of having fun childhood memories of my father, I only have a few family photos. Oh, I've often imagined how my life would've been if he were still alive! In my head, he was a great father - caring and strong. It's such a pity that the past can't be changed.

The day it happened the first time, I was walking out of school with my friends, and I saw this strange man standing at the bus stop. He was definitely watching us. But after a moment, the bus arrived, and I lost sight of him. Then I thought that I had just imagined it. He was wearing a jacket and cap just like my father in one of my photos. But then it happened again. A few days later I was looking out the window in class, when I saw him. And that time I could see his face - it was my father! I quickly ran out of the classroom, but when I went outside, there was no one there. Where did he go? How did I lose him? No idea. But my mind was electrified, and there were a million thoughts in it. Is my father still alive? Why is he avoiding me? Does mom know about this, or is she hiding something from me? I didn`t know. I remembered the hospital and my mother. And how the doctors examined us. But I never saw my dad in the hospital. And then I remembered the funeral, or rather one important detail about it - the coffin was closed, and I didn`t see my dad. You know, I'm not paranoid at all, but it made me suspicious.


In the evening I decided to ask my mother about it, but not just point blank. I started by beating around the bush. I said I missed my dad, and that I don't have many memories of him. My mother began to tell me different stories about my father and about how they met and how they got married. And when we talked about the accident, I said, "You know, sometimes I see people that look like him, or that are wearing the same clothes, and it makes me miss him so much. It's almost like he's still with us." But these words somehow cut off any nostalgic mood. My mother became worried and began to ask me questions about who I saw. She was definitely anxious, and she was trying to hide it. She said "I'm just worried about you. Childhood trauma, you know...". Yeah, trauma. I definitely understood during that conversation that there was a secret, and that she wasn't going to tell it to me.


I thought about it for a week. I had myself completely wound up trying to figure out what was going on. And then I saw him again near school. He was standing at a distance, talking on the phone. I was going to run up to him, but when he saw me, he got into a car and drove out of the parking lot. I quickly ran to my car and followed him. We drove straight for a few blocks, took a couple of turns, and at one of the intersections he hit the gas, ran a yellow light, and immediately turned onto another street. I was scared, but I hit the gas too. Passing the intersection, I heard a car honking at me from the side, and we almost crashed into each other. I then quickly turned onto the same street and my dad`s car just disappeared! Like in the blink of an eye! I swear! I drove a couple more blocks, but I never saw that car again. I came home feeling bad. I just didn't understand what was going on. I felt tired and just fell on the bed and fell asleep. 


I woke up to the sound of an alarm clock. It was morning. I sat up on the bed and then froze in surprise. He was sitting just in front of me – my father! He immediately told me to, "Shh." Oh my God! I quickly began asking him what was going on. But all he said was "Hold on a little, we'll tell you everything soon." And then I heard my mother's voice from the downstairs. She was irritated and wanted me to come down. I looked at dad and he nodded, so I left the room. My mother was holding a piece of paper in her hand. It was a ticket from me running the red light. Damn! I quickly came up with some excuse for my mother, and said that I would pay for it, and ran back my room. But when I returned, the room was empty. Wow. How did this happen? Dad just disappeared. I decided to trust him, and just wait for him to get in touch. But days passed, and it was silence. And then I started to get suspicious again. How much longer did I have to wait? A week? A month? A year? It worried me and I was angry. 


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