dramatic death

What's in that building?

Yintong put down the light pen and rubbed his aching temples.

At that time, he was sitting next to Christie, looking back at the decaying city through the window of the floating car.To him, the White Tower is just a brightly colored landmark, "clean" like a white cat in a garbage dump.

He remembered that at that time Christie was not as paranoid and mean as she is now, she just straightened Yin Tong's head, and said with a little disgust: "Don't look, it's not a good place."

——What place can be called a "good place"?

Yintong thought.

——Christie probably just "hates" this place.

Most of the things Christie hates are related to Yintong's past, so this terrible dump should have something to do with him.

Yin Tong unfolded the letter paper, and then looked at the next line of the diary.It was clearly written in black and white that the owner of the diary rushed to the school hospital after listening to Dong Tiantian's words. He tried to figure out what was happening now, and tried to get answers to the questions from the instructor.

He walked in such a hurry that he didn't even have time to think about the meaning of Dong Tiantian's words. On [October 10], he abandoned his previous rationality, as if something occupied his mind, so that he had no time at all. Taking into account the departure of the instructor, it is difficult to avoid Dong Tiantian's language trap.

He didn't even realize he was being induced.

Yintong rubbed the yellowed letter paper, and the fragile paper made a small mournful sound between his fingertips.

In the quiet morning, only the noise of the central air-conditioning machinery remained, and the thin morning light illuminated the tiny stains on the floor through the cold windows.He stared at the stains intently, as if he could see through the silt hidden deep in the cracked brickwork.

Those cracks exploded in his field of vision, gradually spreading across the entire floor.

Yin Tong suddenly had a strange idea, and for a moment he gasped in disbelief.He thought that if everything in this letter was just a story made up by the sender, then according to the basic rules in the novel, every character should have his own meaning of existence.

The plot can only be pushed forward if it is intertwined. If the appearance of the instructor is to isolate the owner of the diary, if no one pays attention to it, it is to tighten his nerves, and the school violence is to make him submit. Everything in the early stage is to [make him Can become a qualified (obedient) guinea pig], then what is the reason for Tan Xiao's death?

Just to make room for a test subject (A3214) for him?

No, it can't be that simple.Yin Tong turned the diary back to the beginning, and rubbed the first line of ink with his fingertips.

[Tan laughs to death. 】

He thought that perhaps the diary owner's panic had something to do with Tan Xiao's death.

……

[Why did Tan Xiao jump off the building? 】

Yin Tong read down the neat handwriting on the diary paper.

[They said she was for freedom.

I know not.

Although I can't understand why she jumped off the building, the term "freedom" doesn't hold water at all.I can be sure that she will not break a hole in her head in pursuit of this "noble" sentiment. She is a superficial person, and she will choose the cash one between 500 million cash and 2000 million lottery tickets.

She doesn't believe in hope.

I don't believe it either.

So I can't understand her reason for jumping off the building, even though I saw her smash a hole in her head for the so-called "future".

Yes, last night, the moment she jumped off the building, I was standing only ten steps away from her.

I watched her jump with my own eyes.

I don't like to think about it, but I can see Tan Xiao's smashed face almost every moment.The classmates are like her, the teacher is like her, and every shadow and every corner seems to hide her thin figure.She smiled and looked at me blankly, the right side of her head was covered with blood, which was stuck to her seaweed hair.

Disgusting.

I skipped class and hid in the bathroom on the first floor, throwing up dizzy.The cold tap water hit my temple through the old faucet, and the only thing left in my head was the sound of roaring water.

I was gasping for air in the empty bathroom, shivering like a kid twitching from stress.I don't know if it happens to other people, if they get sick of throwing up at the sight of a dead man.I only know that my own endurance is probably not very good. I can't accept it, and I can't accept that someone fell into a puddle in front of me.

Even if I don't like her.

I turned my eyes back to the mirror in front of the sink, looking at my pale face in the cold mirror.I tried to turn my attention back to the instructor, to think about his appearance, and my lovely little sun, but I couldn't.

Tan Xiao's bloody face would always suddenly appear in my field of vision, or suddenly appear on the mirror in front of me.

The sound of the water was roaring, but I could only hear my heavy panting and violent heartbeat. I was the only one in the empty bathroom. I looked at the cold water overflowing the pool, and didn't even dare to turn my head.

That was just an accident.

I try to convince myself.

I can't convince myself.

Because I didn't have any good feelings for Tan Xiao from the very beginning, in the dozens of late nights before last night, I even wished her to die countless times.

She wants to take my instructor away.

She shouldn't do that, can't do that, that's all I have left.

he's mine.

……

This incident started one evening ten days ago.

I remember that it was a rainy day, at 18:45, the bell for the end of the test rang along with the cheers of the students, and then stopped abruptly when Tan Xiao came.

Tan Xiao stood outside the back door, drenched in rain, his wet school uniform clinging to a pile of heavy sweaters, which looked like a skeleton model used to hang clothes in a laboratory.

She didn't speak, and the wet sneakers left dark footprints on the ground. The scattered classmates kept silent, and no one spoke to Tan Xiao, as if she was just a mass of insubstantial air.

They couldn't see her any more than they could see me.

The overwhelming sound of rain swallowed up the fine noises, and Tan Xiao walked in quietly through the crowd, his thin calves trembling strangely, like two old and cracked crutches.She walked past me, walked around the last row of tables and chairs and went straight to my instructor. I couldn't help but reach out and stop her—I wanted to grab her sleeve, but she stumbled and fell On the table, there was a harsh noise.

The instructor turned his head.His gaze crossed my fingertips and rested on Tan Xiao, his eyes were clean and clear: "What happened?"

I saw him frowning, stepping over and stretching Tan Xiao's arm to let her sit on the chair. I heard him ask again: "What's wrong with you? What happened?"

But Tan Xiao opened his mouth and didn't speak.

I stood in the last row with a broomstick on my head, staring blankly as if I was being punished.The instructor signaled me to go out first with his eyes, but I pretended not to see it. I stubbornly walked to the blackboard and drew a small umbrella on the names of the two students on duty with chalk.

I can't tell what kind of mentality I have, as if I lose here if I leave here.

Tan Xiao stood in front of the instructor and wept bitterly. I heard her sobbing softly, and I felt that the chalk in my hand was like a soldering iron, so hot that I wanted to throw it out at any time.

What did she say?

I can't remember.My memory is like chalk shavings on a blackboard, shattered into burning white ash with countless blurred lights and shadows.Sometimes they turned into Tan Xiao's crying face, sometimes they turned tears into blood to cover half of her filthy face, and sometimes they spliced ​​those horrible wounds on my instructor's face, as if foretelling his death.

I can't recall the source of all these accidents, and I can't even remember why I got where I am today.The figure of my father gradually faded away in my mind and finally overlapped with my mother. My life seems to be always lost, and I will eventually have nothing.

Now that Tan Xiao is dead, I still have nothing.

I left the bathroom, ran out of the teaching building, and went straight to the school hospital across the playground.The silver-white iron gate is dazzling in the sun, and the railings are like cages that imprison wild animals.I staggered and ran into the lobby on the first floor of the hospital. The sound of the elevator stopping seemed to exist in another world vaguely.

"Ding"

The elevator stops at the lobby on the first floor.

I stood in the middle of the empty hall, panting and looking at the mud splashes on my shoes.I smashed my temples hard twice, stubbornly recalling the scene that evening.

I remember the roaring rain, the messy shoe prints at the door of the classroom, and Tan Xiao crying non-stop, as if she wanted to shed all the tears in her life, crying as hoarsely as a mourning concubine.

She said she had nothing left, that her family had died in the accident, that she had waited so long for so many years, but no one would come to pick her up again.

"I'm really the only one left. Starting today, there is no place to send the money given by the school."

"I always thought that they might be outside, waiting like me, but why didn't they wait?"

"Why am I the only one left?"

I suddenly couldn't hear what she said, and the sound of the elevator stopping on the first floor was like an awl piercing into my mind.I couldn't hear the noisy rain or the girl's cry. I saw the instructor walking out of the elevator, with my figure in the clear pupils.

He walked over in two or three steps, pulled my hat and put it on my head.

"What are you doing here?"

His voice was a little cold, as if it was still mixed with the wetness of the rainstorm.I looked into his clear eyes, looked at myself in a trance in those eyes, and suddenly something rolled out of the eyes uncontrollably.

I didn't feel wronged, I didn't even have anything in my mind, I watched the instructor's sudden embarrassment and flustered movements, and tried to smile with the corners of my mouth, but the liquid was completely out of my subjective consciousness, and it became more and more turbulent. cover my field of vision.

I realized I was crying, standing in the hospital hall and crackling tears like a child.

I don't know why I'm crying.

The instructor hurriedly knocked off my hand wiping my tears. He took out a handkerchief and rubbed my hair carelessly while pressing my slightly painful eyelids.

His voice suddenly softened, with a fluttering ending like coaxing a child, he said: "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't pay attention to what I said. What happened? Can you tell me?"

I shook my head, but found that this action seemed a little out of place. I wanted to say that this was not his problem, but the instructor would have misunderstood it.

He took a deep breath almost in misery, and then wrapped his arms around my neck and pressed my head into his shoulder socket. His slightly warm palm was pressed against the back of my neck through the thin hat, as if grabbing Touched my weakness and held my heart.

I was dizzy from running all the way, and all fear is gone now.I buried myself in his shoulder and pressed against his neck, my teeth clenched on my lower lip, and I tasted the blood from the lower lip between my teeth.

I remembered what Tan Xiao said that evening.

Sitting in a chair, wet pants sticking to her skinny legs, she cried and asked my instructor, "Can you stay with me?"

My instructor nodded.

She asked, "Can you never leave me?"

My instructor nodded.

They exchanged vows as if they were married, and hugged each other amidst the sound of the bleak rainstorm. My instructor hugged the girl as tenderly as he is holding me now, and said, "Yes."

"I will never leave you."

……

Yin Tong paused, he turned over the thin diary paper, followed the clean and neat ink marks, and found a line of small words left by the owner of the diary.

He seemed to be able to see the child sitting quietly in the halo of the desk lamp, his back was facing him, his back was tense, and the thin butterfly bones were faintly visible.

He heard the "rustling" sound of the tip of the pen falling on the paper, and the boy wrote stroke by stroke.

……

what about me?

Where should I go?