1975年的风筝节，是25年来规模最大的一次。
阿米尔的父亲忽然无意对阿米尔说：
“I think maybe you'll win in the tournament this year.”
这句话在阿米尔心中埋下一颗种子。
他一定要赢。
I was going to win, And I was going to run that last kite. Then I would bring it home and show it to Baba, show him once and for all that his son was worthy. They may be my life as a ghost in this house would finally be over.
我一定要赢，我要割下最后的那只风筝，然后我要把它带回家给爸爸，告诉他他的儿子一直都称得上冠军。
然后我那像鬼魅一样在这屋子里的生活就终于结束了。
我大胆的让自己做梦：
I imagined conversation and laughter over dinner instead of science broken only by the clinking of silverware and the occasional grunt. I envisioned us taking a Friday drive in Baba' car to Paghman, stopping on the way at Ghargha Late for some fried trout and potatoes .
we would go to the zoo to see Marjar the lion. And maybe baba would yawn and steal looks at his wristwatch all the time.
maybe baba would even read one of my stories. I would I had write him a hundred, if I thought him had read one . Maybe he would call me Amir Jar like Rahim khan did. And maybe just maybe, I would finallybe pardoned for killing my mother.
带着这个梦想，阿米尔的心中有了战士一样的使命，这一次，他绝不让爸爸失望。
