流逝的时光就如深秋飘零的落叶,在声声叹息中渐行渐远,仰望天空,只剩追忆的丝丝缕缕萦绕心间。不经意间,记忆深处的花朵悄然开放……一它,冲破了泥土的束缚。那天晚上11点多了,家里还没有人入睡。“我自己去怎么了?不就八天吗!”我双手抱胸看着妈妈。“你自己去北京?不行,我不放心!”妈妈在屋里来回地踱着步。爸爸依然眉头紧锁,似乎在思索着什么。后天就要去北京“新东方”学英语了,我还在和妈妈僵持着:我想去住校,妈妈却执意要我寄宿 The passage of time is like autumn leaves falling, sighing in the sound of lopsided, looking at the sky, leaving only memories of the fathom of lingering hearts. Inadvertently, the memory of the deep memory of the quietly open ... ... it, breaking the shackles of the soil. That night was more than 11 o’clock, no one at home fell asleep. “What’s wrong with me? Not eight days?” “I hug my mom with both hands. ”You go to Beijing? No, I do not worry!“ Mom walked back and forth in the room. Dad still frowned, seems to ponder what. I have to go to Beijing, ”New Oriental" to learn English, and I am still deadlocked with my mother: I want to go to school, my mother insisted on my boarding