dramatic death

"Who hasn't met a few scumbags in his life?"

Miss I was twenty-eight years old when she heard this sentence for the first time, and it was a good age when the spring heart sprouted and the deer fluttered. .

She has only met one scumbag in her life, and this scumbag is mighty and domineering, not to mention eliminating the possibility of her being scumbag in the future, and driving away all the good luck around her.

This scumbag, Mr. D, is probably a tormenting debt collector.

Mr. D has a very high IQ and a very low EQ. He was born with a different way of thinking from normal people. He has firmly stood in the camp of chaos and evil. If he is placed in film and television literature, he will definitely be labeled as a villain BOSS. Ms. I always felt that this guy was too unrestrained, and one day he would definitely be stabbed by the male protagonist descending from the sky. However, the reality is far from the distinction between good and evil in popular literature. Before the legendary "male protagonist" appeared, Miss I I just watched Mr. D stabbed someone right and wrong.

The word "stab" seems inappropriate, after all, Mr. D threw the victim off the roof.Although these two actions directly lead to death, Ms. I felt that if she was the victim, she would have preferred to be "stabbed" to death.

After all, this move is a little softer.

The strength with which Mr. D pulled the victim's hair really made her scalp tingle.She watched the other party drag the victim's hair all the way back to the roof, and then threw it down forcefully. The crisp and neat action was like throwing away a bag of garbage, and she had already done it dozens of times.

Mr. D went back and forth dozens of times, the repeated movements made Miss I's hands and feet cold, she endured it for a long time until she became dizzy, and finally interrupted the other party after the other party's unknowing throwing operation was over. atrocities.

"Can you explain?" Ms. I spoke softly at all times, even though she was so frightened that her throat was dry with cold sweat, "You asked me to take you into the girls' dormitory just for this?"

Mr. D carefully observed the blood on his hand, his expression was solemn, as if he was conducting some statistical experiment.He raised his head and smiled while Miss I was speaking, his eyes were clear and his lips were smiling, like a playful boy who can be seen everywhere.

"No, I'm mainly here to see you."

Miss I felt a little headache: "Stop memorizing your love dictionary at a time like this."

"Why?" Mr. D blinked suspiciously, "Don't I love you all the time?"

Mr. D's love words are sometimes pure love words. He doesn't care about his heart when he speaks, and he doesn't bother to observe whether the time, place and environment are suitable. Miss I looked at the black, black and red thing in his hand, which was really unacceptable. She felt that she was about to vomit from breakfast and lunch, and she didn't know how Mr. D could continue to observe.

"Just imagine it as an exploration of life science." Mr. D seemed to have seen her expression, and explained indifferently, "Would you like to touch it?" His thumb and index finger were stuck together, and when they were separated, A sticky streak of blood was pulled out, "It feels quite strange."

"... Please leave a little living space for normal people," Miss I refused with a disheveled face, "You sneaked into the girls' apartment for this? Don't interrupt me, you know what I mean, why do you want to?" kill her?"

Miss I knew who the victim was.

Fate is actually a wonderful thing to some extent. After all, normal people can never predict what will happen in the future, so every time they meet with others, they will have a unique and novel feeling.Most people name this feeling a "first impression" because it's so high on the list that it matters as much as it does.

First impressions often occupy a large part of interpersonal communication, and they are combined with the accumulation of complex emotions to form the so-called goodwill.So Miss I's disgust when she met the victim for the first time will become the basis for her to ignore him for a long time in the future.

This kind of disgust is first established on the senses.

The victim in the hands of Mr. D is a school girl who is one level below them. She is dark and withdrawn. She always likes to shrink in the classroom by herself, and sticks to a lifestyle of not talking, ignoring or caring. The first time Miss I met her was behind the grove after school. The taciturn victim had her hair set on fire by a group of psychopathic perpetrators. She ran very fast all the way and jumped into the school's landscape lake without taking off her shoes. .

The sound of the water suddenly rang out, cheers roared, and Miss I watched the victim who fell into the water move his hands and feet a few times, dragging his long hair that was tangled like seaweed, and slowly surfaced.

She looked up at the groups of perpetrators on the shore, her eyes were as black as ugly stones in the mire, and her face was as pale as a newly dead water ghost.She didn't say anything, and didn't even let out a scream from her throat. She just floated quietly and looked at the people in the woods, watching them laughing and playing as they walked farther and farther away, and finally turned into roads in the woods. Indistinct black shadows.

Those figures are like wandering ghosts, or some evil spirits wandering in the world.

Ms. I couldn't accept the appearance of the little girl who was the victim. However, following the principle that life is the most important thing, she still extended a helping hand to the little water ghost soaked in the water.

She tried to pull the other person out of the lake, but was shivered by the cold gaze of the other person. She mustered up the courage to ask, "Do you want to come up first?" But she didn't even get the victim's attention.

The little girl floating in the lake waved her arms and swam to the other side of the lake.Her fingers were digging the wet mud on the bank, her whole body was like an earthworm that just got out of the ground, her thin body twisted and wriggled up the man-made gravel road, her head drooped as if she was thinking about some life issues.

"Are you okay? Do you need to go to the school hospital?" Miss I asked softly.

She is still trying to get in touch with this poor little girl. After all, disgust is instinct, but help is morality. It is difficult for Ms. I to stand idly by the victims she saw with her own eyes, especially the group of "little girls" who are endearing in themselves. She took two steps forward and tried to stretch out her hand to pull the victim up, but her fingers hadn't touched yet. The victim's sleeves were tightly blocked by the cold air.

The drenched victim staggered her outstretched hands, stood up, and took a shaky step.

She never spoke, as silent as a lifeless statue. Miss I followed her through the wet and cold ground of the grove, walked out of the scope of the boulevard, and walked straight to the school hospital located in the northwest corner of the school.

Is she going to see a doctor? Miss I thought.

Why doesn't she speak?Was it trauma to the vocal cords? Miss I guessed.

However, whether it is ideas or basis, the little girl who is a victim of school violence is shockingly silent.She walked alone in the empty corridor of the school hospital, her light footsteps were almost as quiet as fallen leaves caressing the ground, Miss I followed her but she was in a trance for a while, and when she regained her senses, she completely lost her senses whereabouts.

She is like a ghost.

Miss I thought.

This idea was confirmed in countless school violence later.The silence of the victim made the harm more and more serious, and the morality of some students was released from the endless bullying. Feel free to vent for reasons.

They threw away the victim's schoolbag and stripped the victim's clothes in public under the banner of working for the welfare of every student.They are like a group of lone wolves living in their own world, and the "little favor" brought by a little revenge is enough to make them ecstatic.

It seems that persecuting others has become the driving force for their existence.

However, the victim never spoke out.She is like a marionette, silently accepting any label imposed by others.

She deserved to be beaten.

Miss I thought.

She lived a very special life.

The most indispensable thing in this school is personality. After all, after regular vaccinations, the whole school is full of "severely ill patients" who screamed and threw their heads on the ground.Having a personality means being out of gregariousness, and being out of gregariousness means being excluded, not to mention that the victim was already special and enviable when she entered the school-she is a rare transfer student since the school was built, and there are no instructors or monitors, She did not encounter any isolation that would make her uncomfortable.

From the day she transferred to another school, she directly entered the so-called campus life, without needing to be vaccinated, nor did she need to bear the frightening side effects of the vaccine.

Being special is the reason for her being "excluded".

But Miss I never thought of letting her die.

Mr. D is a decisive person. He always has his own plan in what he says and does. Usually, the conclusion is just for you to listen to. Whether you agree or not, it will not change his decision.So when Mr. D proposed to enter the girls' dormitory, Ms. I never thought of refusing. She thought that Mr. D came here for sightseeing again on a whim, but she didn't expect that he came to kill people.

In other words, she did not expect that Mr. D "could" kill someone.

A person's ability depends on the genes he was born with and the environment in which he was nurtured. It is really hard to attribute Mr. D's personality to what went wrong. It's not that Ms. I has never seen jumping off a building, nor has she never heard of the recent rumors of someone committing suicide in the dormitory building, but because there are no "definite corpses" appearing, she has always remained a casual listener.

She did not expect that the so-called victim of jumping from a building was actually thrown down by Mr. D.

Miss I leaned against the iron gate leading to the rooftop, and looked up at Mr. D's eyes full of interest. She repeated the question she had just asked, trying to attract Mr. D's attention.

"Why did you kill her?"

Mr. D looked away from the blood on his hands, looked at Miss I and smiled: "I didn't kill her."

"Do you think my eyesight is bad, or my brain is bad?"

Mr. D shook his head: "I think you are perfect, but I really didn't kill anyone."

Mr. D was silent for a while, then stretched out his fingers to the ground of the roof, he sighed, as if he was wronged like a little boy reporting his itinerary to his girlfriend: "Last evening, here, there was a little guy we all know who also looks like I got in as well."

"He has been waiting on the roof, waiting for the little girl to climb up the steps just now. He is like a cruel and ruthless executioner, always waiting to send the prisoner to death."

"I'm in the dormitory building opposite," Mr. D pointed his eyes, "I saw him throw that little girl off the roof here."

"So tell me, how can I kill her again today?"