Red door

He is a restless young man, 17 years old, living in a private nursing home.When the sun was shining, he was sitting in a recliner, holding a charcoal pencil and sketching the old white phlox outside the window.He could easily be admired and liked by everyone if he wanted to - just like he did in school.But since he walked into this ward on December [-] last year, nurses and patients who have seen him are more willing to describe him as a quiet and thoughtful teenager.

In the hormonal boyhood, 17-year-old boys dream of girls' breasts/beautiful shadows in the room, 17-year-old girls will always look at the boy's protruding Adam's apple, and some teenagers will find themselves falling in love with it at the age of 17. For the same sex, he hides his eyes full of love in panic, God bless him.There is also a more pitiful 17-year-old young man who was diagnosed with a mental illness and used a brush to clean the crevices of his nails over and over again.His 17-year-old love history is hidden. No matter how friendly he is with his classmates, he thinks that there is nothing to say about his feelings, so he never talks about the girls and boys he likes to others, or because of some The trait has a crush on some people, but when they respond to him with a surge of emotion that borders on madness, he is terrified and withdraws coldly into his shadows.

"He's like a cat," is how people who have dated him describe him when it comes to romance.

His fickle side was more than that, and he hadn't written a letter to anyone for three whole months.Sanitariums are quiet and good, but too good to be anything to write home about.What's more, when he first arrived in the nursing home, the heating broke down. The nurse spoke to him enthusiastically, and the white mist kept coming out of his mouth. All joys and dislikes, life solidifies into a colloid, and time crawls very slowly.

He spent an ordinary afternoon peacefully. He couldn't talk about being happy or sad, but simply bored. According to the schedule of the nursing home, he went downstairs to watch a movie and have snacks at five o'clock in the afternoon. At that time, the clouds Very low, just the beginning of a storm.

The moment the two protagonists get on the bus to escape marriage successfully, the old window opens with a bang, and the cold wind engulfing the rain sweeps the whole hall, the crowd stirs up, and the young blond-haired nurse closes the window, but his attention is still blocked. The sound of dense raindrops hitting the glass windows attracted him, and the sound of the rain seemed to awaken the hidden XX in his heart.

The sound has a sense of power, and the uniform and dense rhythm is like a harbinger of the awakening of fate. Because of the exciting beauty, he stared at the water-stained glass window for a long time and refused to fall asleep. He tossed and turned for a while before entering the drizzling Lili Xiaoyu's dream.

After falling asleep, he was still restless, having nightmares again and again, dreaming of a shopping trolley that could kill people, its rusty wheels creaking, chasing him from the white tiles of the supermarket to the asphalt road under the sun, and then Perhaps it was the sound of thunder or the sound of rain, but he woke up without warning.When the night was dark, the windows were wide open, the curtains were mostly wet, and outside the window was only the white noise of rain and leaves rubbing against each other.

Thrillers always like to shoot this scene. The thrillers he has seen have this plot, and he should be terrified, but he feels a long-lost tranquility from the sound echoing between heaven and earth. He is sober and calm. Without sleepiness.

The light of lightning illuminated the whole room, and it illuminated that sitting on the chair facing the bed was a young man who could not be seen how old he was. not extinguished.But those eyes were hurt eyes, sad, as if looking at redemption.

Before the writer's dream was shattered, he had read Liaozhai, and he didn't think it was a horror ghost story, or that Chinese elves and ghosts all had a delicate oval face, which was reasonable. It is always good to be more moral than others.

This person has a beautiful face like a ghost, and he dares to conclude that even if this person is dead, he can't be a ghost.

Although Luo Ye is fickle, he can also feel other people's emotions. Just now he knows that this uninvited guest admires him, but other people's feelings are too noisy, making people want to escape.

Thunder rumbled, and he said, "Can you come out of my house?"

The person on the chair was startled, but laughed happily: "Are you talking to me?"

He repeated with a smile: "You talked to me."

When he smiled, there was an inhuman metallic beauty in his eerie eyes.Luo Ye looked at those strange eyes that were smiling, and his mind was shaking like the flame of a white candle. Unconsciously, there was a gentleness in his tone that he didn't realize: "Which ward are you from?"

"I don't live in this nursing home," he firmly denied, and at the same time Luo Ye also realized that he was controlling his every breath.

Luo Ye looked at him carefully and asked, "Then where are you from?"

"I came from the mirror, you can call me He Yuan." When He Yuan spoke, his forearm would swing along with the syllables, and his fingers would also dance flexibly, which Luo Ye could clearly see through the light of lightning. The shadows of veins protruding from his arms.And when he found that Luo Ye was staring at his arm, he grabbed the chair tightly to control the range of his movements.

Those strange eyes could barely make his Arabian Nights believable, but Luo Ye knew that he must be sick.

He Yuan smiled embarrassedly, and said, "I'm controlling myself."

Luo Ye also smiled slightly, but it was superficial.

He Yuan was dissatisfied and said, "You have to trust me."

"I'm sleepy now, it's raining heavily outside, and I'm very cold, it's all because of you, why should I trust you." He deliberately said something like this: "Would you like to go out and close the window?"

"I can't move," He Yuan opened his mouth, stuttering like he was reciting a book, "A butterfly in the tropical rainforest of the Amazon River Basin in South America, occasionally flapping its wings a few times, can cause a cat in Texas in two weeks. A tornado."

"The Butterfly Effect, tell me something I haven't heard of."

"I am a butterfly," He Yuan said solemnly, "Now is not the time for me to flap my wings."

Luo Ye sat up straight and asked, "He Yuan, when are you going to flap your wings?"

In the rumbling thunder, he bit his lips, he was silent for a long time, and said in a trembling voice: "I can't, I can't let you die, absolutely can't—you..."

The cold light of lightning illuminated the darkness, there was nothing on the chair, and the pink-green wall was illuminated pale by the light. Luo Ye jumped out of bed, and stood barefoot on the cold floor full of rain amidst the roar of thunder. He tried the temperature of the chair, and carefully searched every corner of the house where people could hide. He didn't look out the window—this was the seventh floor.

Luo Ye walked to the mirror and pulled off the huge cover of the mirror, and the cold rainwater was densely distributed on the one-person-high mirror.

He Yuan didn't lie.

A doctor's notes read as follows:

Patient 16 years old, attempted suicide, with bandages on his arms:

"I have another person in my head, but I know I'm not sick. He's my ghost, he's always there, just dormant in my soul, he's my blood, he's my guts. He doesn't want me to die , I have lived until now.” When he talked about this unknown soul, his bright eyes shone with wonderful joy.The patient looked very young, his hair was a little long, and the slightly curly hair showed a brown tone in the sun, like an old and dusty film reflecting all the suffering, like a disillusioned illusion in the dark, "but Did he leave, or hide? I don't know, I really don't know how to find him, but I have to find him."

The patient's parents were respectable people, and they couldn't stand his muttering for a moment, so they immediately told the doctor, "He is sick, but it's not serious, and he will be fine after taking some medicine."

"Did he force you, or hurt you?"

The patient paused: "Of course not, he will never, never, never hurt me, what you need to know is forever!"

The patient's mother said fiercely: "He wants you to die!"

He turned and stared at his mother, trembling at the memory of his brush with death: "I'm going to die myself."

As a doctor, I cautiously ask his parents to leave, and the man yells at the woman violently and loudly: "He's not sick!"

The patient was still calm, maintaining an indifferent or even dull expression as usual.

"Would you like to tell me about that man?"

"Yes, sir," he smiled shyly, "I fell in love with him when I saw him when I was 12 years old, and he told me that he would protect me, that one day he would take me away, and then We'll always be together."

"Leave? Where did he leave? When did he tell you that he would take you away?"

He evaded the question, but at my insistence, he said tearfully, "Leaving the house, my father told me this one time as he dragged me out of the bedroom by my hair, he I won't break my promise."

The vast majority of DID patients reported in the "Five Independent Research Reports of DID Patients" that they experienced heinous abuse in childhood. According to this view, DID begins in childhood because they want to get rid of the huge sense of hopelessness and powerlessness. Feeling of escape but lacking resources and means of escape, children may escape into illusions through dissociation and become another person. This is really a sad conclusion. I said: "He escaped by making you kill yourself." Is it domestic violence?"

"You don't understand," he shook his head despondently, "you don't understand anything."

I'm used to seeing patients discuss their fantasies in this high-spirited tone, "You have to say it so I can see what I don't understand."

"He won't come and take me away."

Could it be that his personality has already merged before our communication?However, what he said next surprised me even more. He said seriously: "I should save him. He is going to die at the age of 27."

I subconsciously looked at his medical records.

Hou Heyuan.