dramatic death

Christie took a sip of her drink, and the glass smacked softly on the bar.

"Severe secondary school, terminally ill." She commented, "According to the current legal judgment, those who can write such things are basically 'potential criminals', you can definitely call the police and arrest him."

Yin Tong folded the opening of the envelope and put it back in his pocket, and smiled disapprovingly: "This is just a novel."

"Maybe it's a criminal certificate."

"Such an expensive criminal certificate?"

"Such an expensive novel?"

Yin Tong lowered his head to look at Christie, and his gaze directly hit the girl's sullen eyes. He couldn't help but froze for a moment, lowered his eyes and smiled, "You're too nervous."

"Nowadays is a society ruled by law, and city surveillance is watching everything that happens. Those who failed the genetic test were imprisoned in the White Tower as early as birth. I just ran into a prank. Maybe someone and I am joking."

"Who would joke with you?" Christie sneered. "You are alone and want to be isolated from the world. Who do you know? I don't think you can tell what is a joke."

Yin Tong put down the cup and whispered Christie's name.He was still smiling, but there was a vague coldness in his eyes: "You've been here long enough, Mr. Chen is still in the car, you shouldn't keep him waiting."

"Are you chasing me away?"

Christie raised his eyes and showed a mocking expression, as if to say, "Do you know who invested in this store?" Yintong pursed his lips and raised a standard hospitality smile. He turned on the light screen, and even turned the screen on purpose. Pushed in front of Christie.

It shows job information on Christie's official homepage.

"I'm afraid it will rain later. If you stay too long, you won't have time to go to the next set." He swiped the screen and turned off the light screen. "I can't escape from the store. You can come whenever you want. There is no need to leave Chain yourself in my shop."

Christie pursed her lower lip, her complexion turned ugly for a moment.As if remembering something terrible, she grabbed the clothes Yintong handed over, put on the sleeves and wrapped herself tightly.

She didn't get up, she sat in front of the bar with her back straight.Yin Tong watched her thin lips tightly pursed, her pupils slack, her fingers kept trembling, as if she was pissed off, and she was trying to calm down her breathing.

However, the efforts were all in vain. When she jumped off the high stool, she still waved her hand violently as if venting her anger, and swept away the goblet on the bar.

The sound of shattering glass exploded in the store.

The cup fell from the bar and smashed to pieces on the wooden floor.The remaining liquid submerged in the fragments and smeared the spicy wine aroma, Christie looked down at the mess on the ground, and her hanging fingers trembled, as if the slap just now had slapped Yintong on the face.

"I'll be back," she said.

The little boss Yin behind the bar just smiled politely, wiped the muddy night on ** hands with a towel, and pointed to the closed wooden door.

He said: "Go slowly, be careful on the road, I still have something to pack, so I won't see you off."

The conversation broke up badly.

Yin Tong knew in his heart that since he moved out of Christie's bachelor apartment a year ago, he had run counter to the "obedient and sensible" in the little girl's request.He is no longer a good boy, and no longer willingly accepts Christie's control, even though he is still under the protection of Christie, his resistance is like a wildly growing weed, covering his consciousness little by little.

He's like a rebellious teenager.

It is difficult for him to tell whether this resistance is good or bad, but the behavior of "big rebellion" has increased his freedom to some extent.

This can be called a good thing, after all, he doesn't know where Christie's bottom line is, and he doesn't know what he did wrong to get such imprisonment, and he doesn't know when this girl will explode completely.

He was fed up with her confinement, her desire to control, and her constant suspicion.

If conditions permit, and if Christie doesn't get mad, Yintong would like to directly dismantle the monitor at home when he goes back at night.

But now is not the time.

While clutching the letter in his pocket, he lamented that this thing is such a big trouble, but at the same time couldn't help but look forward to it, wishing for a few more letters to provoke a showdown between Christie and him.

Christie must be hiding something.

Yintong thought.There are no secrets that will never be known.

……

However, regardless of whether Yintong expects it or not, the letters that should come will arrive on time, rain or shine.

On the third day after he pissed off Christie, he received the third letter from that strange local tycoon. It was still a familiar envelope, still neatly signed, and the recipient on the front only wrote "Yintong" The name and mailing address are still blank.

Yin Tong signed on the light screen of the courier brother, and got an embarrassed wry smile by the way.

If this incident happened in the novel, the courier boy standing in front of him would definitely become the main object of suspicion for readers. After all, this guy happened to come and appeared frequently, and he spoke in a secretive way. No matter how you look at it, there are many problems .

However, reality is not fiction, and the possibility of "accidents" cannot be avoided after all.Most literary and art workers are willing to call this "accident" a "beautiful coincidence", so Yintong hopes that the appearance of this courier brother is just a coincidence.

He really doesn't like the feeling of being calculated.

At 9:15 in the morning, with the third letter freshly baked, Yintong "met" the busy idol lady at the door of the dessert house in the early morning.

She was wearing a hip-hop black jacket, the tail of the skirt was exposed under the oversized hem, and a small cold face was hidden under the lowered peaked cap, and her thin lips were already a little white from the cold.

Yin Tong didn't know what time she came, but she must have arrived earlier than herself.The cold winter in Central City can always drain the remaining warmth in a person's body. He really can't figure out what high value he has, worthy of being a popular idol.

He knew that Christie was watching him, and the other party had no intention of hiding it.If Christie was watching the monitor when the delivery arrived in the morning, then when she packed up and arrived at the door of the dessert house, it would indeed be earlier than Yintong.

Yin Tong really couldn't understand the meaning of this kind of monitoring, but "no privacy" was a prerequisite for the little girl to agree to him to live out, which was relatively better than "grounding".The laws of Central City are strict. For a foreigner like him who has not "settled down", a guardian is an indispensable and rigid rule. What's more, Christie herself feels that she allowed Yintong to move. It is a great "gift" to install a camera. It's not worth mentioning at all.

Standing in front of the gradually rising rolling gate, Christie raised her head and stretched out her hand, commanding haughtily, "Give it to me."

Yin Tong smiled, clicked the "Open Door" button on the light screen, and patted the envelope in his pocket.

He said: "What's the hurry, we can go in and taste together."

Christie valued the letter more than he thought.

In Yintong's brief memory of only three years, Christie played the roles of "family" and "friend" almost at the same time. She spent a lot of time on him and rescued him from the plight of ignorance. Then he stuffed it into the "cage" he built with his own hands.

It's like she's playing a nurturing game.

Boss Yin packed up the things in the store, and sat down on the high stool in the bar under the sound of the little girl knocking on the table impatiently.

He took out the letter from his pocket, and Christie reached out to snatch it almost instantly.Yin Tong bent back to hide for a while, under the almost fiery eyes of the little girl, he tore open the envelope with a smile.

He said, "What's the rush, I'll read it to you."

"You give me the letter."

"Isn't it the same when I read it to you?"

"Give me the letter!" The little girl who looked no more than eleven or twelve years old climbed onto the bar angrily, pressing down on the counter with one leg, stretching out her hand so that Yin Tong's collar was deformed.

She stared, ferocious like a wild dog in the gutter.Yin Tong stretched out his hand to caress her eyes, and said, "Baby, what do you not want me to see?"

The girl under his hands trembled violently, then fell silent for an instant, and lost all sharpness in her body.

Like a punctured balloon, she exhausted her strength and slumped back to the stool.

Yin Tong caressed the top of her hair, looked at her pale lips under her trembling eyelashes, and said, "Be good, I'll read it to you right now."

……

The third letter was even more disgusting than the first two. It started with a large piece of dirty ink. The distorted font looked like a child's graffiti, and it was poured crookedly on the yellowed lined paper.

[March 9, overcast]

After stabbing my front desk, I actually paused for a while.The school’s isolation policy was very effective. After not seeing my instructor for three days, I couldn’t sleep all night. I even smashed the bathroom mirror with my head when I woke up in the morning to wash up.

I started to get restless.

I was clearly aware that I was out of control, and the thoughts of suicide and violence were like a necrosis. They drilled into my body and made me unable to suppress the thoughts of vomiting.

However, I haven't eaten for so long that I can't vomit anything.

Thankfully, my existence seemed to have some value, and this unbearable mental torture finally died down before I collapsed, saving my dying dog's life.

In the evening five days ago, when I walked out the back door of the classroom, my instructor was already standing at the end of the corridor.

He called my name.

At that time, I was already dizzy with hunger, and I couldn't outline his appearance in my blurred vision, but his voice pierced my heart through the noisy crowd, and miraculously soothed my aching stomach.

I heard the sound of my heart beating, and warm blood flowed out of that fist-sized organ and poured into my cold body.I feel relieved and sad, I think I have lost the game completely, it is difficult for me to really like the instructor, but his existence has become the meaning of my existence.

I don't know who arranged all this, but he succeeded.There was nothing I could do to stop the winner on the opposite side of the board from making a lot of money. He beat me completely, physically and mentally.

However, my compensation is still not over.

The night the instructor returned, after a long sleepless night, I fell into an uncontrollable deep sleep.The three strokes of the midnight bell pulled me out of my dream with severe pain, and my vague consciousness prevented me from making any clear calls for help. I slumped in the grass like a dying addict, clenched my right hand The weeds in the house have become the last thing on my mind.

I can't count how many iron rods fell on me, how many people laughed harshly, and how many times the bell on the campus rang. I just feel that every bell rings like a knock on my heart on the joints.

I feel pain, very pain.Physical pain is no better than mental torture. They are like gangrene, digging out my bone marrow and grinding my heart inch by inch.

I passed out halfway through the brutality.

When I woke up again, I heard six bells.

At six o'clock in the morning, I was knocked off every finger of my right hand and thrown on the damp grass behind the school hospital.The pale dawn illuminates my bloody fingers, and the weeds that have been uprooted between them.

I was beaten.

He was dragged out in the middle of the night and his fingers were severed. His throat was full of blood that could not be swallowed or spit out.

I can't figure out what I did to deserve someone to treat me like this.

In the faint morning light, someone ran into my field of vision. He put my shoulders on his back and carried me on his back, deliberately avoiding my bloody right hand.His lips were trembling, trembling as if he was crying. I vaguely realized that he was comforting me, but my brain, which was so painful and numb, refused to accept any words, and refused to record any comfort.

I can't hear anything, it's like being locked in a transparent box, and the sound of the wind and bells is completely isolated in another world.A messy silent film was playing in front of my eyes, and my dirty right hand kept appearing in my field of vision along with the running of the instructor. I couldn’t feel any pain, and my mind went blank. Suddenly, it asked in a high-pitched voice.

It is childlike, its tone innocent and cruel.

"Is he an accomplice to the perpetrator?"

I hear it ask.

I remembered that I locked the door at night, and the other key to the dormitory was in the hands of the instructor, and when I was dragged out of the dormitory, my instructor was sleeping on another bed less than three meters away from me.

"Is he an accomplice to the perpetrator?"

I think about how my instructors prevented me from reaching out to other people while I was in isolation.

"Is he an accomplice to the perpetrator?"

I think of him before he became my instructor, the teenager, the "only" teenager I could trust, who was first and foremost a cadet at this school.

The piercing laughter from that shrill voice seemed to pierce my eardrums and tear my brain apart.

I suddenly felt sad, not sad because of pain, but sad because of grievance.

"He is not your kind," said the voice, "you are still on your island."

"There's only you here (your island)."

After the treatment, my hands have returned to the point where I can hold things. It will take a long time before I can write, and I am afraid I will never be able to wait for that time.

The development of science and technology brings more than convenience, just as strict laws bring more than harshness.

On the night of the treatment, I was once again subjected to irresistible brutality. My weak limbs and drowsy brain became the last straw that overwhelmed me. My right hand, which had just recovered, was once again discounted the strength of every finger. joint.

It's like a nightmare.

A nightmare that lasted five days and completely destroyed my right hand.

……

Yintong put down the letter in his hand, paused for a moment on the light screen that popped up in front of him, turned on the sharing mode and pushed it in front of Christie.

"Mr. Chen is here to pick you up." Without looking at Christie's expression, he tidied up the letter in his hand and stuffed it back into the envelope. "Didn't you tell Mr. Chen when you came? It's the end of the year, and it's not safe for the little girl to walk alone on the road." .”

"Don't trust him."

Christie interrupted him with her head down. She curled up on the high stool opposite the bar, her pale little hands tremblingly clutching the soft skirt.

"Don't believe him, he will be beaten because of his own fault. His pitiful appearance is all faked. He broke the glass in the corridor and stabbed the classmates in the class. He has countless The first time he tried to push someone down the stairs, he was a monster!"

Yintong looked down at Christie.He realized that the other party hadn't come out of the diary, and his mind was still stuck on the protagonist of the "late stage of the second disease".

His eyes fell on the flat brim of the little girl's hat, and he paused for a while, as if he saw something boring.

"According to what you said, no one in this class is a normal person. They united to implement isolation, and they kept silent when they were beaten."

"They dare not make a sound!"

"And what happens when you make a sound? Has anyone tried it?"

"Does this kind of thing still need to be tried? Isn't it!"

Christie raised her head and suddenly met Shang Yintong's smiling eyes.The little boss Yin behind the bar stretched out his hand to stroke her soft hair, but she could not help but tremble all over.

She suddenly realized that she had missed something, the Yin Tong in front of her seemed to coincide with the monster with treacherous thoughts three years ago, the corners of her lips curled up, showing the same smile.

He said, "Christie, isn't it something?"

"What did you learn again?"