horror effect

Memory is a corridor lined with statues.Some are happy memories, like a smiling mother with a bread basket on her arm, or a wrinkled grandmother handing out fruit, or a pure girl avoiding your fiery gaze; and some statues are painful memories, like Someone who throws a rock at you to beat you to the bone, like a boss who has no mercy in firing you, like a drunk father who throws a bottle at you over the head.

Among these statues, there is a special category, they belong to the statues of pain, but they are different from the aforementioned ones.This category did not hurt you, on the contrary, you hurt them, made them suffer, and because of their pain, your heart was tormented.

It is such statues that I am speaking of.

There are three statues joined together, the front is a soldier with a steel helmet, leaning against the wall, holding an automatic gun in his hand, his jaw is missing, and the upper half of his teeth protrude from his cheek.Not far behind the soldier, stood a woman, she was neither young nor pretty, wearing a long cotton skirt.She was hunched over, her hands held high, her face contorted with terror and screaming at the top of her lungs.On the rightmost side was a boy squatting, about eighteen or nine years old, with one arm stretched forward, holding a penis, and the other hand covering his chest.

The three statues were formed in an instant.My bullet sent the soldier's jaw flying, and my partner's bullet pierced the boy's heart.In just a tenth of a second, we left that woman without a husband and a son.

I was a peacekeeper at that time.The name sounds great, but it is not a charm, it will not protect you from bullets and guns, we can only shoot when we are in danger.Are we punished?of course not.This is self defense!Our officer said so.

In a literal sense, we are keeping the peace, but we are also killing people, which is a necessity.Weird logic, but not uncommon: in order to have peace, first kill; in order to be happy, first suffer.I did not share this point of view at the time, and the misfortune of my own making made a deeper impression on me.But I know now, that's the way life is, that God didn't make you to suck honey for life.There are many thin threads drawn between life and happiness, and from time to time some will break, and all you have to do is try to connect them and try to keep the ones intact; It may be the same as before, but as long as we stand a little farther away, we can't see much difference; but sometimes, a thread will break many times, and it can never be repaired, so what should you do?Had to let him stop.

Being a soldier got me some money, but you know it won't do much.So I started doing other things, restaurant waiter, sailor, guard, garbage collector, all temporary jobs.This period of life is very bitter, with a wandering residence and a tedious job, but it is also this period of time that allows me to really get acquainted with the lives and thoughts of ordinary people.How many people I met every day then!You look at these various statues in front of you, each of them is different, or from another angle - they are all the same.I want to understand people, I want to know what goes on in the minds of most people in the world?How do they live?They get up early in the morning, where do they get the strength to get dressed?It was from then on that I began to miss the time of studying, so when I saved enough money, I quit my job and went back to school.

I went to a junior college, studying journalism, and Liddy was the teacher.Let's move on.There, the statue of the young woman was her.She was beautiful, just the kind of vivacious girl most people liked.I once got so close to her that I thought I would spend the rest of my life with her.After the course was over, we entered a newspaper office to work together. That time is the best memory I got from her, which is another aspect of this statue.Don't be surprised, the statue in memory, like each of us, has two faces of Janus.Liddy—like her name, short and light, jumping on the lips when she said it—brought me a lot of happiness, her beauty, youth, and thoughts, all of which I loved at the time.

A stone thrown into the sky always falls, and so does love.

We are all too independent people, and no one is willing to accommodate or obey the other. We went to other countries to interview together, and together we moved the battlefield of quarrels from one city to the next.Liddy was addicted to drugs, which was nothing at first, because I tried it too, and we both felt that life was good, but it couldn't hide the pain...just like you now.But when you find the syringe from her for the hundredth time, all the love, all the pity, turns to anger.

She accepted the task of interviewing in Kashmir alone and died in the local armed conflict.Witnesses said she could have run away but didn't move.Actually I could have saved her, had I noticed the look of despair on her face when we parted, I would have said "Leave me with you".It's a pity that I didn't see it, and even if I did, whether I would say that sentence is still a question that can never be answered.

Such is life, and it tragically changes everything about us. Twenty years ago, I was in much the same situation as you are now: fresh and bright as a Dutch cucumber despite all its discontent.Look at me now, look at me, come out of the other side of this great grinder of the world, wrinkled like old clothes.But I am thankful for this grinder.I used to be a little polyp trying to achieve my own goals, but now I start to wonder what are these giant structures we have built for God?How much weight do I have in God's great design?

He saw a person.Stephen thought in surprise.He saw a person, and he actually had such an idea.

If the wrinkles at the corners of Julian Raymond's eyes hide pain, what are his smiles?Why is that smile more triumphant?And what kind of sun cast that light on his face?

Indeed, Julian is right that they see the world differently.Stephen has always been a bystander, and all he can do is watch. He was born, fell in love, reproduced, and died together with the characters in the book. The threshold to the real world.There were only a few thin pages in his biography, but it didn't particularly bother him, it was his fate after all.The same is true of those around him, whether they are those who have lived through a life that is difficult to look back on - Colevan, Sister Tofana, Theoros, or people who have walked along the smooth road like him - Nicholas , Valentine, these people have never thought about what else they can do and what they can gain outside of the constant destiny.

It's not that I haven't thought about it, Stephen said in his heart. "All happiness that comes by fate is not real happiness."I know I've thought about it, and a lot of people have thought about it like I did, but never took that step.

And right in front of him was a man who had suffered, who had killed, who had hurt, and who had been hurt.Is he happy now?Stephen didn't know.But there is one thing he can be sure of.Julian Raymond is free. Although this freedom includes the possibility of making him hurt others and make others unhappy, it is precisely because of his freedom that he can bear the responsibility of his own choice.He is always on the road to the center of the world.

Julian told his own story as unenthusiastically as he would tell someone else's.This makes time go by so fast.The statues on the corridor of memory turned into clusters of shooting stars, and the field of vision was filled with elongated light bands.After that, there was a thick fog of silence.Julian stood by the window with nothing to do, while Stephen needed to digest what he heard.

"I..." Finally, Stephen said, "It's been two years since the last time I smoked, and I've quit, or I haven't started an addiction. That packet is the last bit, I stash it It’s so that you can find it if you need it.”

It is undeniable that he is justifying his actions.But why would he argue?Guilt, remorse, guilt, the self-esteem of a child who doesn't want the other person to despise him?He could have talked about how Julian's story had made him feel or simply told his own story - which was likely to be as dull as expected, but he was eager to justify his actions.Do we know why he chooses to do this and not that?Unfortunately, we don't know.

"I thought it was weird," he went on, "that all of a sudden I had such a craving that I couldn't help it. I naturally thought it was a drug addiction, but now that I think about it, it felt weird, strong. The wish is not from my own will, but it seems that someone is shouting at my head, instructing me to do it..."

"Did it come suddenly?" Julian interrupted.

"Suddenly, shortly after I woke up, I noticed that the light was bright and warm, like you get up on a spring morning. I also saw a white crow in the window."

"White crow?"

"Yes, it was like a dream. Then immediately after that I started to have a strong desire to find that bag."

"So," Julian asked thoughtfully, "have you noticed the color of the eyes of that white crow?"

"Eye color?" Stephen was a little surprised.

"Yes. Aren't its eyes red?"

"Ah! I remembered it when you said it! It's red! It's a beautiful color like a jewel. But how do you know?"

Julian laughed. "Because I have encountered it too. Congratulations, Stephen, haven't you always wanted to know what the white lion looks like? You just saw it."