i haven't woken up yet

"She had that dream again.

In the dream, that person was still alive.They returned to the place where they first met, and met again.The dream was not long, it could even be said to be very short, and finally she woke up crying.

She woke up feeling empty.That person's eyes still lingered deeply in the depths of her mind, like the endless clouds between the intersection of light and shadow, and also like the rainstorm pouring all the emptiness in the dark night.

If only she could never wake up, she thought.

After waking up, she needs to run around for a living, and needs to work hard to forget the pain of losing someone; after waking up, she still needs to eat alone, drink coffee alone, read books alone, and clean the house alone.

one person. "

It was raining outside the window, and it was really disturbing.

I pushed the computer away a little, and picked up the teacup on the small table.The teacup is made of white porcelain without any pattern, it looks very simple, but I like it very much and have used it for a long time.

The water on the window blurred everything outside.I took a sip of tea with the sound of rain, the tea and the cup wall were both warm, making my cold fingertips feel warm.

... a little fidgety.

I don't know how to proceed with the plot of my novel.All the ideas came to an abrupt end here, as if they were abruptly cut off, and I felt like I couldn't type a single word, which is really bad for a person who relies on this thing for a living.

Go get some rest.I thought blankly.

I got up and went to the bathroom, wanting to wash my face and wake up first.The bathroom in my house is actually quite big, and there is a mirror that occupies half of the wall.After washing my face, I stared at myself in the mirror in a daze, and suddenly felt very tired.

The kind of exhaustion that pervaded from the bottom of my heart made my heart vulnerable.

I started thinking.I am dimly aware that sometimes I can't remember what happened around me, but I seem to be very awake all the time.Those things are frightening and absurd according to common sense, but deep down in my heart, I always don't care about them, and I think they are not worth mentioning to outsiders.

Why is this happening?

The lights suddenly dimmed.

I looked up dully to the mirror again and saw a face appear over my shoulder.

Dead silence.

My fingers were convulsively digging at the edge of the sink, so hard that my knuckles turned sickly white.The breathing in my nose stopped subconsciously because of extreme fear, and my heart was pounding heavily. This blood-red, throbbing piece of flesh was like a sharp knife piercing my lungs. The severe pain devoured my nerves and pulled Pulling me down.

It was a very familiar face.A face I see every day.

That's my face.

I dare not turn around.

"He" was staring at me through the mirror, his sight was like a bloody hand, holding my body and thinking with hatred. "His" face is much paler than mine, that color is like the gray pupil of a dying person, dull, withered, and chaotic.

—a face without a trace of life.

"Snapped."

The sound of something falling to the ground.

In a blink of an eye, the face disappeared.

The lights came back on.

That face seemed to appear only for a moment, but for me that fleeting moment stretched infinitely.I was so tired that I almost collapsed, and I slowly sat on the ground, trying to calm my heartbeat, and trying to stop the trembling of my hands.

After a long time, I stood up and went out of the bathroom to find the source of the sound just now.I finally found Ring of Ruins lying on the bedside table in my bedroom.

I laughed inexplicably, then bent down and picked up the book.When I picked up the book, I found a piece of paper slipped out of the page, light and fluffy, like a feather.

I took a closer look, and it was...a photo.

And it's a group photo.

The photo appears to be dated, slightly yellowed around the edges.The people inside put their shoulders on each other, and their heads were tightly pressed together, looking very intimate.

It was a very warm photo, but I felt my hairs stand up one by one, and the air around me became heavy and oppressive again.

One of the people in the photo is me, and the other is someone I don't know.

When did I take a picture like this?

I pondered silently, dazed and hopeless.Vaguely, I felt that I had seen this man somewhere before, because he gave me a warm familiarity.This sense of familiarity is actually very weird, because I clearly know that I don't know him.But is my feeling really right?Is my memory really clear?

Thinking seems to be useless.

I turned the photo over and saw a sentence written on the back.

"Did you know? The people who appear in your dreams are all homeless dead."

My head started to hurt, and the blood in my veins was screaming and rushing desperately.My whole body hurts, as if someone had forcibly treated my body as a fragile piece of glass, breaking it piece by piece and running over it piece by piece.There are many, many things crashing into my mind, crowding into my head, and occupying me with madness and destruction.

After a long time, silence returned.

I held the photo and stood up, feeling my face was wet. I touched it with my hand only to find that my face was covered with tears.

"She had that dream again.

In the dream, that person was still alive.They returned to the place where they first met, and met again.The dream was not long, it could even be said to be very short, and finally she woke up crying.

She woke up feeling empty.That person's eyes still lingered deeply in the depths of her mind, like the endless clouds between the intersection of light and shadow, and also like the rainstorm pouring all the emptiness in the dark night.

If only she could never wake up, she thought.

After waking up, she needs to run around for a living, and needs to work hard to forget the pain of losing someone; after waking up, she still needs to eat alone, drink coffee alone, read books alone, and clean the house alone.

one person. "

I went to the window and opened it.

Not far from the window is the cafe I've been to.The business of the cafe seems to be a bit hot during this time period, and there are some customers sitting on the tables and chairs placed outside the door.I can see the figure of the waiter brother from a distance, so far away, but very clear.

I slowly stepped on the window and leaned half of my body out.

The autumn wind was like countless small sharp knives, scraping my cheeks fiercely, and the pain that made me bleed profusely woke me up a lot.The sky in the distance is hazy and pale, still not a scene that can bring people a good mood.

I jumped out of the window.

The feeling of flying into the sky and dissipating between the worlds made me open my arms, and the photos I had been holding in my hands were blown away by the wind.I looked in the direction of the coffee shop at that moment, and then suddenly met the eyes of the waiter brother from a distance.

The world froze.

The world rotates.

The next second, I was standing in front of the coffee shop.In my hand was a silver plate with undelivered coffee and cake.I looked at the residential building in the distance, and a person jumped out of the window.

There was silence in my ears.

He fell fast, like a bird shot by a gun.

Then he hit the ground.

"Lol-"

A crisp sound.

Fragmented.

The author has something to say: Actually, I have decrypted it!Declassified! !