I hate the sun. I always feel that the sun will give me nowhere to escape, make my eyes narrow into slits, and make me realize that there are things in this world that are as long-lasting as the night.
I hate sunlight.
The first ray of sunlight that shines into my house must be shining on that oil painting. In the painting are two girls who look exactly the same. The background is a sea of roses, all of which are red roses. They are as bright and red as a sea of roses. Sea of blood…
He sat next to me and asked me if I wanted a drink. I didn't answer, he came closer to me, and we started kissing. I was unusually sober, and I calculated carefully that we had known each other for an hour and four minutes, and we planned to have sex after the kiss.
I don't know what his name is? He doesn't quite know what my last name is? He didn't love me, and I didn't love him either, so we acted confidently and without any psychological burden. He hugged me tightly, making it difficult for me to breathe. In his arms, I felt suffocated, as if I was returning home. When we arrived in our mother's belly, we were surrounded by a bright red area. My sister and I were forced to squeeze into our mother's womb. We were constantly sucking nutrients and competing for oxygen. This is a place where the weak eat the strong. Even sisters have to compete here… …
Sunshine, I hate sunshine. I escaped from his house before the sun came.
Unhappy, even after going crazy, I was still unhappy. I huddled in my small room, looking at the oil painting, the roses as red as blood, and the roses as lush as the sea, holding the two girls tightly Their bags were buried in the sea of flowers, they were struggling, they were crying, they had no expression because they were all dead…
I hated the smell of men on my body. I turned on the faucet and the cold water hit my body. I was cold. I curled up and squatted under the running faucet, and my body began to tremble.
A strange wind blew on my body, and my nose began to bleed. The bright red blood flowed on the ground. As the water flowed into the sewer pipes, the red water filled the place. It became a bright red place, just like the sea of flowers. Sea of roses, beautiful roses with thorns, growing in that huge garden, she is running, yes, it is her, the girl in the oil painting, she is chasing her, why? Why run away? Why chase? I heard her talking.
"Don't kill me, don't kill me. I don't have a heart. I don't have one. If you don't believe it, look, I'll open my heart and let you see." She really took off her clothes. Her naked upper body was perfect but flawed. There was actually a zipper on her dripping breasts. She opened the zipper and blood poured out of her heart. She had no heart. She really had no heart. I saw her grinning.
Yes, she was smiling. She was holding a heart in her hand. The heart was still beating, once, twice, faster and faster. Suddenly, the heart jumped out of her hand and fell to the ground. She went to catch it. She received it, but she also fell. Countless rose thorns pricked her body, and she began to roll. A lot of blood, a lot of blood, flowed to the roots of the roses. The roses became more beautiful, and the flowers became more beautiful. The thorns were covered with blood, like bloody sharp knives, and they kept stabbing her while she was rolling on the ground. Finally, she was riddled with holes and died in the sea of flowers, but the girl who dug out the heart took the opportunity to take away her That heart…
She left, leaving only the body behind.
I was cold, shivering, and the midnight ringing sounded to me. I answered the call almost naked, and he told me that I had forgotten my purse.
I asked him if he wanted to drink water? He didn't answer, so I pulled him to the sink and turned on the faucet. I started drinking water. He frowned and asked me why I didn't use a cup? I said I didn't buy it.
I took off his clothes, but he didn't move, but his eyes were looking straight at the oil painting.
""Ferocious Rose"? Why do you have this painting?"
"It actually has a name? I don't know, it seems to be my sister's." I took off my clothes for him, saw the scar on his chest, and ran away.
I gasped for air, I guess my face turned pale, I felt my heart speeding up, so fast that it seemed to jump out of my body, it was protesting to my heart, it wanted to go home, it wanted to leave, it didn't belong Me, I stole it, I saw the girl in the painting walking towards me, I picked up a blade to protect myself but it cut my chest, I screamed…
"Why did you take my heart away? What would I do if I gave it to you? Look, look at my heart, it's empty." The girl who looked exactly like me in the dream kept walking in front of me, stroking her heart. , questioning me.
He was right next to me, the wound was not deep, and he looked at me carefully. "You have changed, really changed a lot."
I don't understand, what is he talking about? I looked into his eyes, his eyes were calm and gentle, I could see myself in his pupils, pale and helpless, suddenly I saw the girl walking towards him with a knife, she wanted to kill he.
"I painted that painting. I was an intern at the time, but I like painting. I often use patients as my models. One of the two girls suffered from a heart disease and had to undergo heart replacement surgery. , she is my first patient, they are very beautiful." Suddenly he stopped talking and looked at me.
Memories come like the sea of flowers, heart, heart, we need a heart. We have been living in this hospital for two full years. All our patience has been worn away, but there is always no heart, because no one died. Those who participated People who volunteer to donate are always immortal, why don’t they die? How can I live if they don't die? I need a heart, I'm only fourteen, I need a heart, I don't want to live here, why aren't you dead? Only my sister takes care of me. I always hold her tightly, bury my head in her chest and listen to the healthy beating of her heart. I hate her, why? Why is she competing with me for that poor nutrient? If it weren't for her, my body wouldn't be so weak and my heart wouldn't be sick. It was all because of her. I buried myself firmly in her chest and fell asleep deeply.
I like him. He is my doctor. He can paint many scenery and let me appreciate many places that I have never been to. I love him. Apart from my sister, he is the person who cares about me the most. No one knows my secret. When I get better, I will definitely become his wife.
But there is no heart, no. I can feel that my heart is shrinking day by day, and my life is disappearing day by day. I feel that I am the picked rose. As time goes by, I slowly Withered, only my sister knows my mood. She is a witch . She always cries. My temperament is always unstable. Under my influence, her temperament also becomes weird. She always fantasizes that someone will die, and then lingers for a long time. At the door of the morgue, waiting for someone to bring the body in, she once sneaked in with a knife and wanted to dig out the dead man's heart and give it to me…
The doctor said she had mild hallucinations, but she had no heart. No, we had no laughter. My mother died after giving birth to us. My father was a sailor and had been gone for several years. We could only live like this. . He took my sister and me to the back garden of the hospital, which was a rose garden, and he started painting us.
The call on the mobile phone was extremely loud in the middle of the night. He answered the call, and I was forced to wake up from my memories. He answered the call gently, and the feeling was as sweet as honey.
He sat back next to me, maybe he wanted to say something more, but in the end he didn't say anything. Did he leave because of that phone call? Do you love that rose lying on the hospital bed?
I walked on the road, it was very quiet and dark. I always appeared at midnight because I couldn't go out during the day. I leaned pale against a decadent wall, surrounded by many women with heavy makeup. We always work here. , I was very tired. I squatted by the wall and looked down at the ground. The street lights illuminated the ground very cleanly. I don’t know how many people walked on this road. I don’t know if they were kind to me when they walked by. Look back at this beautiful road? No, no one would do that, just like a prostitute who thinks most about his wife at home after having sex.
My feet were sore, I kept my head down for a long time, and my nose started to bleed again.
Blood, red blood spilled all over the floor. My sister killed someone. She killed him because she wanted his heart. Only with the heart can I be healed. So she killed him. Her whole body was covered with blood. Holding a knife in hand. Then she pointed the knife at her heart…
No, no, no, why is he still alive? Why am I still alive? Why is my sister dead? I started to panic and ran all over the street. Finally I was tired.
He was sitting on the steps of my house, waiting for me quietly. I walked towards him covered in blood, with questions all over my face. I cried in his arms and asked him to forgive my sister. I begged him to hold me, I told him I wanted to have sex.
So we didn't stop for a moment, rolling on the bed, panting, screaming, I needed to vent, I needed him, because I once loved him.
When the sun gradually rose, he stood in front of my eyes and asked me what else I remembered. I cried, I told him I loved him, but my sister killed him.
He showed a strange expression, and suddenly he said that there was actually a person in the painting. Your sister was too weak to go to that beautiful garden… He stopped talking, and suddenly he pulled away my hand. Curtains, I screamed instantly.
"You should look at the sunshine outside. Take a look. You can't block yourself into the darkness because of your sister. She is dead, but you are still alive." He shouted loudly.
"No, no, I am the sister. My sister is already dead. No, she killed you." I held my head in pain and buried my eyes in my thighs.
"Yes, you killed me. It was because of your sister. She asked you to kill me, right? Right? Think about it, don't always block yourself in fantasy. Think about it." He shook hard Holding me.
The roses began to wither, because autumn has come, I looked at the fallen leaves outside the window, and he was still painting that picture. He always went out with his sister. He took away my sister, and my sister also took over his love, but I About to die.
My sister walked over quietly, with a slight blush on her pale face because of the beauty of the roses, which I didn't have. I am about to die, but I am very afraid of loneliness. In another world, my sister will no longer be by my side. We have never been separated, and I will no longer be able to see him. No one knows that I love him. I love him so much, I want him to die with me, I want him to paint for me alone, just like he painted for his sister.
I asked my sister to kill him, and I told her that I needed his heart. I knew that she would do anything for me, because she was the one who robbed me of my health. Otherwise, she should be the one lying on the bed, not me. I saw that her slight blush faded away in an instant, and was replaced by a vicious look. She always imagined that someone wanted to donate her heart, and that someone wanted to hurt me. So she took the fruit knife I gave her and walked out…
And I followed her slowly. I watched her stab the knife into his heart, and then she fainted. I quietly picked up the knife. I knew he didn't love me, but this The knife has pierced his heart, I will pierce it into my heart, so that my heart will be close to his heart…
"Ah!" I squirmed in pain on the bed. I couldn't bear the strong light. He didn't die. The wound was not deep. He lived and I died?
"You're not dead, you just fainted. Your sister is dead." He pulled back my sheets and looked at your body. There was no fatal knife. After what happened, you were a little confused. From now on He just disappeared, and everyone thought it was your sister who killed me…" His mouth kept moving, but I couldn't hear anything anymore.
Dead, in fact, we are all dead. My sister’s body died, but her soul survived. My body survived, but my consciousness has long been replaced by my sister’s soul. My sister is not dead, and I am not dead either. We are just more Intimate.
I looked at the painting "Ferocious Rose". The two girls in the painting were exactly the same, but the sea of flowers revealed something extra strange…