countdown to winter

Chapter 6

"..."

Wen Xia was speechless, he lowered his head and said softly, "What didn't you understand?"

Shi Xing didn’t understand, he didn’t listen at all, the mosquitoes came from nowhere last night, bit him for half the night, he couldn’t sleep because of the torment, he slept for a long time in the morning, Wen Xia was only vaguely aware of it when he was in class When I woke up, I basically didn't listen to the class content.

What's more...he didn't plan to learn any more.

Wen Xia vaguely guessed something, he didn't say anything, and softly gave Shi Xing a lecture.

His voice was pleasant to hear, clear and warm, with a bit of magnetism when he lowered it down, it was like listening to a radio drama—if he wasn't talking about math topics.

Shi Xing looked at the question absent-mindedly, and suddenly received a slap on the back that was neither light nor heavy.

Wen Xia: "Listen carefully."

Shi Xing concentrated his attention, and after listening, Wen Xia: "Do you need to talk about the next one?"

"……no need."

Shi Xing took the pen, finished writing this question, and then quickly wrote the remaining questions under Wen Xia's gaze.

After class, Shi Xing went to the bathroom and took out his phone.

Mobile phones are not allowed in high school, so he can only hold them secretly. The mobile phone is not very good, and it is an old one. He doesn't use it to play games, and occasionally listen to music.

When the phone rang during class, he set it to vibrate, but the sound was not loud.

Unremarked mobile number, five missed calls, from the same number.

Shi Xing looked at the number quietly, and unconsciously clutched the phone tightly.

Press Callback.

Halfway through September, it was not long before the school started. The hot time has passed, but there is still some residual heat. There are boys playing basketball on the basketball court. The sound of impact is loud and lively.

There is a large area of ​​rust-colored sunset light on the horizon, and the red pupils of the setting sun are cold and open.

Twilight fell.

Shi Xing sat by the window, watching everything silently from the height of the eleventh floor.

He didn't deliberately remember how long he had been sitting, until the night eroded the evening, when the school clock rang suddenly, Shi Xing realized that it was already seven o'clock.

He didn't come for two or three days.

I don't know when it became a habit to sit here.

It probably started from the first year of high school. Every time a man called him, he would come here and sit, reminiscing about things like a lantern in the early morning light or in the twilight. His life is too short, and it only takes less than one Hours, you can go through a boring life.

Shi Xing shook his legs and looked down.

The thick male voice on the phone came to my ears again.

"Will Eleven come back?"

"Don't come back? If you don't come back, where are you going to go, you fucking brat? You're just like your mother."

"Have you told your teacher, what the hell are you doing in your school? Just throwing money in it, it's better to come back and buy a cigarette for me as a part-time job."

"Yo, you still talk back, you think your wings are hard, like your mother, you want to leave after taking the money? Shi Xing, let me tell you, as long as I am still alive, you will not have a good life, heh, son of the chicken, Is it evil or not?"

"Remember well, you are the son of a chicken, don't put yourself too high."

He was right.

That bastard didn't miss a word.

His mother is a chicken, a whore that everyone looks down on.

His father is not considered a strong fucker, it is nothing more than one who wants to fuck, the other wants to be fucked, wants to have a thrill, has no condom, who knows that he was shot, so he reluctantly gave birth to an accidental product.His mother couldn't stand his father. When Shi Xing was five years old, he took medicine and died.

Shi Xing discovered her.

She is beautiful and Shi Xing looks like her.

When she died, she could almost be called skinny, with her eyes closed, her hands crossed reverently on her abdomen, lying on the bed, her lips were smeared with the brightest lipstick, and she was still glamorous when she died.

She just sent herself away so selfishly, ignoring her child who was struggling in the mud.The only thing left is the diary.

It's not so much a diary, but a long suicide note to Shi Xing.

The last one was for September thirteenth—the day she committed suicide.

"Don't blame me. If I can, I really want to strangle you and take you with me, but I can't bear it. You are still young, and you haven't tasted love and friendship. My dear mother can only give you a little. Live well, If you don't want to live anymore, I'll follow you."

If it is said that when his mother was still there, he could live a good life at least, but after his mother committed suicide, Shi Xing never saw the light of day again.

His father, Shi Haoran, is addicted to drinking and smoking, and likes to indulge. Every day, he brings different women home to bed. Once, he grabbed Shi Xing's hair, pressed his head, and forced him to watch, saying: "Look carefully, then Your mother is also like this."

Crying, moaning, writhing, flesh-colored.

Shi Xing red eyes, panting heavily.

When Shi Haoran was doing the work, he saw the light of the knife, Shi Xing took the kitchen knife and slashed at it without hesitation, Shi Haoran yelled and rolled to the side, but his right arm was still cut , bleeding.

The woman was frightened and cried.

Shi Haoran grabbed Shi Xing's neck, wanted to strangle him to death, stared at his purple face for a long time, but let go, laughed softly for a long time, tied him aside, let him watch the rest of the live **.

He was young then, but he couldn't forget it.

As long as the things you have experienced in front of you are like a brand, imprinted in your bones, it becomes an indelible memory. Shixing has no memories, and can only continue to experience the past, go through it, and come back again.

He will always remember those sufferings and tortures, and in every sleepless night, the pain comes on time like a revolving lantern, staring into his eyes, and laughing fiercely.

"You'll never forget."

"You can't get rid of it forever."

The heavy snow in this cold winter fluttered and fluttered for 17 years. He was a traveler walking on the snow field, and now he was tired from walking. When he looked up, he still hadn't seen spring.

The author says:

A little transition, I post 4 this article is not very cruel (right), Ruru is a small sweet article writer.