Chapter 350

After dinner, he washed dishes with his wife, and then played parent-child games with the children. After pacifying the children to sleep, he also went back to his room.

My wife is taking a bath in the bathroom in the room. The water is gurgling and tickling.

He was lying in bed, with his hands on his back, looking at the wedding photos hanging on the wall.

In the picture, I was young and my wife was in full bloom.

Lying on his back,

he squinted and fell asleep again.

I don't know how long I slept. When he woke up, it was dark all around. He fumbled in the dark and turned on the light.

Bed, still that bed, but only lying on his own.

Silently,

he sat up from the bed and curled up.

A feeling of loneliness and cold was coming to him, and some broken pictures began to emerge in his mind.

Dark clouds,

lightning,

heavy rain,

living room,

sofa

More and more he felt that he was having trouble breathing. A kind of mood called "despair" was enveloping him, and he began to have a lot of gooseflesh.

He dare not go out of the bedroom,

dare not push the door,

he is afraid of not hearing the voice of the child,

he is afraid of not seeing his wife,

he is more afraid of going down the stairs,

he can see the sofa in the living room

"Whoo Whoo Call........ "

Heavy gasps, but let his brain become more and more blank.

Struggling, like a thief, he quietly pushed open the door, closed his eyes, covered his ears, and rushed into the study next door according to the memory.

"Pa!"

When he closed the door of his study, he felt a stone fall to the ground in his heart.

Turbid eyes look at the pen lying quietly on the desk,

as if it has found its own support.

He went over, picked up the pen,

opened the blank book,

took out his wife's book double faced man, and began to copy it.

He is selfless,

he is addicted,

he has no other thoughts, nor dare to have any, except transcribing words.

No one urged him, but he cherished his time.

He wrote very fast and began to scribble, because his heart could not wait.

He didn't notice that his skin began to fold, like the elm skin losing water. He didn't notice that his eye socket was slowly sinking. He was not 30 years old and had large white hair on his head.

Pen ink,

is still as if it can never be used up,

can always write words,

does not need to be added.

It says,

write that the sky turns white and the sky turns dark again.

There was a doorbell on the other side of the room. He rose abruptly, pushed the door open and went out.

Standing on the second floor,

he saw that his wife had already passed below,

opened the door,

there was a visitor,

it was said that he was one of his wife's iron female fans.

The children's laughter came again, and they were watching cartoons on the living room sofa.

Seeing this,

he grinned.

Even though he was already emaciated, his chapped lips seemed to be permeated with blood.

Write,

write,

copy one copy and then copy the next,

he can't stop at all,

he doesn't want to stop,

he forgets to eat and drink,

he forgets to sleep,

in addition to occasionally hearing the news and going out to have a look,

he looks at his wife,

he looks at his children again,

then he comes back to continue Write.

He was afraid that if he didn't write, he would lose sight of them.

The horror stories of his wife are all based on his own family, the villa as the prototype, so there is a family, she and children in the story.

Under the desk lamp in the study,

there is a shadow of a man hiding behind a desk and copying books,

the shadow is very thin,

the light from the desk lamp seems to penetrate him.

More and more words are written, more and more books are copied,

gradually,

the young man is becoming thinner and more haggard,One day,

he copied another book,

when he put down his pen,

his legs were as thin as two chopsticks,

there was only one layer of tight skin on his face, which was still stuck on it,

in his eye socket, he could not see his eyes, only two lights like ghost fire were flowing and flashing

He opened the door tremblingly,

went out,

he heard his wife's voice,

he heard his children's voice.

All of these are so beautiful,

so beautiful,

this is the sound of nature,

it is the persistence and hope of living.

Don't feel bitter, don't feel tired,

what is bitter, what Tired again?

With his hands on the railing, he dared not go down. He just watched silently, listened silently, and enjoyed his own quiet years.

At this time,

he heard vaguely,

his wife was crying.

My children are crying too.

He was stunned for a moment,

why?

Why cry?

A family,

is neat,

lives happily together,

why cry?

He was a little flustered and confused. He grasped the stair railings with both hands and walked down step by step.

The next step,

is also a great challenge for him at this time.

He is afraid of falling down. If he falls down, he will fall into a ball of powder.

He's not afraid of breaking into powder,

but afraid that no one will copy,

no one will continue to write with a pen.

But he's still going down.

he's going to ask his wife and children,

What's going on,

Why are you crying?

Finally,

he went to the stairs,

he was panting, hunched, unable to stand up, and groped forward.

He came to the living room and saw the sofa in the middle.

The wife sits in the middle and the children are on both sides.

The wife is crying,

the son is crying,

the daughter is crying,

on the ground,

Alaska is crawling there. There are many playground facilities around, many masks, cloaks, faces, shadows, all kinds of horror things are wandering and flashing.

In the dark,

you can still hear how many ghosts are wailing, crying and roaring!

All these are the characters, scenes and props in the wife's horror novels.

He didn't think it was strange or big.

He opened his mouth to ask his wife and children, what are you crying for?

We're still alive, we can still be together,

it's beautiful,

isn't it?

But he could only make a hoarse voice, like a mosquito, and could not speak at all.

Blood began to drip from his wife's eyes, so did the children's.

The wife and the children climbed down the sofa together and crawled towards him.

He saw his wife's hands clinging to his legs, pleading, praying, crying, and he saw his two children as well.

"Honey, let me go, let me go, I can't stand it, I can't stand this kind of torture, I really can't stand it, let me go, please, honey, let me go, let me go..."

"Dad, please let us go It's so terrible here. Every day is so painful. My daughter is so scared... "

"Dad, please let us go. My sister and I can't stand it. I can't stand it..."

Looking down at his body,

his wife and children's twisted faces due to their pain,

there was a flash of thunder in his mind,

he stumbled back,

shook his head,

it was unbelievable.

Why,

why,

How can this happen,

No,

impossible,

impossible!

The cold reality,After being covered with beautiful veil, it gives people a beautiful illusion.

Illusion, after all, is illusion.

He crawled on the ground with his head in his hands.

These days, he has been transcribing and writing in his study, never leaving the door.

But in the outside world,

he still appears in front of people every day, directing the dispatched workers to complete the orders in the factory, and even after the last housekeeper's aunt had a problem, he found a housekeeper's nanny again.

He did all these things,

but he didn't know, neither did he.

All he knew was that when his wife and children begged for forgiveness in front of him,

his whole body collapsed, and

fell into a kind of confusion.

In this blurred vision,

he saw the body of his wife and children on the sofa and screamed when the new nanny and aunt came to the door. On the tea table, there was a "suicide note" written by his wife, which was the words that his wife begged him to put aside. According to a kind of instinct, he wrote like copying his wife's publishing book Down, in black and white.

This, together with the bruises on his wife and children for a long time, became evidence of his conviction for domestic violence and abuse.

The tangle between reality and virtuality has collapsed and been reshaped again and again in his mind. In prison, he has a lot of time to think and to straighten out his thinking.

Therefore,

he is very grateful for the prison environment.

It's a kind of gratitude from the heart.

…………

The eyes of recollection gradually disappeared,

his mouth gradually outlined a arc,

he tried to have a new life in the past, but he found an amazing reality,

he exists,

but does not exist,

people around him can see him, can talk with him, prison leaders also praise him, his writing can also publish Awards 。

But does he really exist?

He feels like a real ghost,

is not a ghost,

but clearly you are known,

and you,

do not exist,

this is a paradox and a torture.

It took him more than four years in prison to figure it out.

Looking at the terrified woman in front of him,

he opened his mouth,

he made a "Shhh" lip movement,

then,

slowly said:

"maybe, I know what is the way to use this pen."

"Yes What is it... "

The woman from Naihe Bridge looked at the man in front of her with a kind of sincere fear.

"That is to make yourself a character in the story, not a Living people. "

The prisoner takes a deep breath,

reclines on his back in the chair,

"so why is it so smooth? You can find me right away when you come out of hell,

it's so smooth,

it's like a plot bridge that has been arranged and designed,

is that right?"

The woman nodded,

Yes,

it was so smooth.

"Ha ha..."

The prisoner smiled,

"I'm sorry to tell you that this story, I'm not competent enough, has collapsed

I'm sorry,

you're involved,

and me,

disappear together. "

………………

In the bedroom on the second floor of the study,

lawyer an, who just helped Lao Dao untie the shackles, sat by the bed. Lao Dao ran down to rub the safflower oil. Zhang Yanfeng was stopped by lawyer an and fell into a coma again.

But the breathing has been stable, and the heartbeat has also appeared. If you sleep, you will be able to really wake up. Everything is developing in a good direction.

Lawyer an thinks it's a little magical. It's actually made by an ordinary dead soul who just died.

While wiping the water on his hair with a towel, he picked up the prison cloud magazine.

At random, the front half of the

magazine is the speech of prison leaders and the propaganda of deeds,

the back is the transformation perception and experience written by prisoners in prison,

it's also interesting to watch.

Looking at it,

turns to the last page,

hmm?

Lawyer an was stunned,It's the last page,

but there seems to be something missing,

it seems that there should have been an article here originally, and it seems that I have seen it,

but it's gone.

It's me,

wrong?

these are two thousand monthly tickets plus more chapters,

but it's embarrassing that our monthly ticket is only 1800.

brothers, awesome!

Xianyulong's Jiageng ran to the front of the monthly pass!!!

Weeping!