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墨書 Inktalez
After Yulia moved in, we did a lot of things together. We went shopping together. We cooked together. We watched movies together. The movies we watched all told stories of women as victims.
The Silence of the Lambs
Zodiac Killer
Seven Deadly Sins
American Psycho
Basic Instinct
After watching, Yulia's face was pale. I looked at her with concern and asked, "Are you okay?" She shook her head and said tremulously, "They... they are so pitiful..." I paused for a moment and replied, "They're all fake."
"But..." she looked at me, "why... why does it have to be like this?" I said calmly, "Men like it this way." She stared at me in shock.
"They enjoy watching women suffer," I explained. She looked at me in confusion and asked, "Why?"
"Because..." I smiled, "they are men." She gazed at me blankly.
"Let's go," I said as I stood up. She followed me outside.
We walked out of the cinema.
We strolled slowly along the street.
She kept her head down, silent.
"I'm sorry," I said.
She looked at me in confusion.
"I shouldn't have taken you to see those movies," I said.
She shook her head, "No, it was my request."
"Did you not enjoy watching them?" I asked.
She forced a smile, "I felt... uncomfortable."
"Let's watch something else," I suggested.
"No," she shook her head, "I like everything you choose."
I looked at her.
She smiled at me.
I smiled back.
We continued walking.
We passed by a square.
There were many people dancing in the square.
We stopped to watch them dance.
After they finished dancing, they began to sing.
They sang "Ode to Joy."
They sang beautifully.
We started humming along.
After they finished singing, they dispersed.
We continued walking.
Yulia asked me, "Do you think women are really weaker than men?"
I looked at her and asked, "What do you think?"
She shook her head and replied, "I don't know."
"Do you think women should be weaker than men?" I asked again.
She thought for a moment and said, "They shouldn't."
"Why?" I inquired.
"Because..." she hesitated, "because men can hurt women."
I nodded in agreement. "Right."
She looked at me and asked, "Do you think women should be stronger than men?"
"What do you think?" I countered.
"I think..." she hesitated again, "women should be the same as men."
"Exactly," I said.
Her eyes lit up. "You think so too?"
I nodded, "Women should be strong, just like men."
She exclaimed, "Yes!"
She paused for a moment and then asked, "But why do many women rely on men now?"
"Because..." I said softly, "they are afraid."
"Afraid of what?" she asked.
"Afraid that men will not want them," I replied.
She was taken aback.
"Men always say—" I continued, "women can't live without me."
She stared at me in disbelief.
"When women hear that, they believe it," I sighed.
She gazed at me blankly.
"In fact, women can live without men," I said, "but men cannot."
She looked at me with confusion.
"Men cannot live without women," I said. "Without women, men would die."
She looked at me in surprise.
"So, women should be stronger than men," I said.
She blinked: "Then... why is it now..."
"What is the situation now?" I asked.
She thought for a moment: "Now... now men are stronger than women."
"Right," I said, "because men are very clever."
"Clever?" she asked, confused.
"They control the world," I said.
She didn't understand.
"They make women believe they are inferior to men through violence, laws, culture, education..." I explained.
She looked at me blankly.
"When women believe they are inferior to men, they will depend on men," I said, "and they will obey men."
She seemed to ponder this.
"Men have succeeded," I said.
She was silent.
"But women can resist," I said.
She looked at me: "How can they resist?"
"By becoming strong," I said.
"Strong?" she questioned.
"Yes," I affirmed, "women should be strong."
She contemplated this.
"When women are strong, men won't dare to bully them," I said.
Her eyes lit up: "Right!"
I smiled: "So, we need to be strong."
She nodded vigorously, "Mm!"
We returned to the apartment.
We took a shower.
We lay in bed.
She held me close.
I stroked her hair.
"Shirley..." she called my name.
"Mm?" I asked.
"I feel like..." she whispered, "you seem like a man."
I was taken aback, "Why do you say that?"
"I think..." she hesitated, "you really resemble a man."
I looked at her, "I resemble a man?"
"Mm." She nodded.
"In what way?" I asked.
She hesitated, "You... you are very strong."
"I'm strong like a man?" I asked.
She nodded, "Mm."
I laughed, "But I'm a woman."
"But..." she looked at me, "you give me the feeling of being very much like a man."
"Why?" I asked.
"Because..." she said softly, "you care about women."
I was stunned.
"You care about women," she repeated.
I fell silent.
"I feel like..." she whispered, "you are like a man."
I sighed, "I am a woman."
"But I feel..." she looked at me, "you seem like a man."
I stared at her.
"I think..." she blushed and said, "I like you."
I blinked, "You like me?"
"Yeah," she nodded.
"Why?" I asked.
"Because..." she shyly replied, "I think you seem like a man."
I was stunned again.
"I think..." she whispered, "I want to be with you."
I gazed at her blankly.
"Can we be together forever?" she pleaded.
I looked at her.
I thought she was crazy.
I thought I was crazy.
I nodded, "Okay."
She was overjoyed, "Really?"
"Really," I said.
She hugged me, "I love you!"
I hugged her back, "I love you too."
We kissed.
We made love.
We kept going until dawn.
We slept the whole day away.
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