She called me nine times before she killed herself. I didn’t get it.
Everyone says I killed my sister.
Including my engaged boyfriend.
Those who were with me for the treatment of depression put me on the ground with disgust.
“You are not worthy of happiness.” I’m sorry.
I was ready to die that night.
They regret it again.
One.
When I came out of the hospital, there was little rain.
The doctor is a middle-aged woman.
She looked at the results on the computer, and her finger knocked on the table, and she looked at me softly:
“Long, I suggest you stay in the hospital. I’m sorry.
I slit my lips, I didn’t talk.
She doesn’t mind. She goes on:
“I’ll give you some more antidepressants. Your heart is still with your family. If you could, it’d be better to talk to Mom. I’m sorry.
I consciously strangled myself.
And when she left, she looked at me and said objectively: “You have a good lover who has always been with you. I’m sorry.
“Love and company are the best drugs. I’m sorry.
Two.
But the doctor doesn’t know.
That good lover, I don’t think he loves me anymore.
I’ve been in love for a year, engaged for three months.
Two years ago, I killed my sister because I missed her call.
Mom accused me of murder, fell on me, screamed and cursed me to death.
The year I was diagnosed with depression, I just met the Quarter.
I was crying in the street at the convenience store.
It’s very strange to travel.
He’s the only one standing in front of me with an umbrella, handing me a piece of paper and smiling at me in a warm voice:
“It’s a beautiful face. I’m sorry.
3
I’ve made a couple of calls to Quechua.
He didn’t answer.
The mechanical voice of the woman kept repeating, leaving in the ear was annoying, and I hung up and I had a phone call.
The door was open at home.
I thought it was Quinton coming back and calling him, but the next second, he was stuck in his throat.
It’s a mess in the house, everything’s knocked over.
I stopped, tried to call the police with my cell phone, but I was looking at someone upstairs.
It’s been a long time since I saw my mom.
She’s got a frame on her hand.
When I saw him, I stayed, and then raised my hand and punched the frame.
The frame was at my feet, the glass was broken and broken into a piece.
She jumped over me, pulled my hair, punched me.
She is confused and vaguely repeats words of similar meaning.
“You want to get married?”
“Do you fit?”
“You killed your sister! I’m sorry.
“You’re going to hell! I’m sorry.
“You don’t deserve it! I’m sorry.
“You don’t deserve to be happy!” I’m sorry.
“Why?”
“Why didn’t you die? I’m sorry.
I was afraid to fight back, I had to hold my head and listen to her excretion and the vicious words that pierced my heart.
Negative sentiment almost overwhelms me, and I can only cover my ears and whisper.
I can’t die.
I promised her.
4
I don’t know how long she fought.
Until the neighbor next door heard a noise and came to pull us apart.
Woman down, ask me if I’m okay.
I woke up from the demons and trembled and went through my bag to find medicine.
But I didn’t turn.
One foot in front of me.
A little white pill fell on the floor one by one and sounded like Jade.
I’m freezing.
Heads up.
I’ve got an empty bottle in my hand.
He looked at me, and he smiled cold and bad:
“Eat. I’m sorry.
4
Actually, it’s time to get engaged.
I’m almost stable.
In the worst case, I locked myself in my room, without eating or drinking all day, and strangled myself with my nails.
Quechua loves me.
Take me on vacation.
From warm Hawaii to the cold Iceland.
He asked me to marry in the lavender in Provence.
Kneel on one knee, and lay on my side of the ring.
“A moon. I’m sorry.
“I’ll be with you forever. I’m sorry.
I used to think of dysentery as my float.
He is the only redeemer I can seize when the edges of the abyss fall.
He broke that balance when he tore me apart by his self-dumping tendencies and his desire to survive.
He appeared at the darkest hour of my life.
Like a god, through my misery.
5
I’m still on the floor.
The Quechua is loose, empty bottles fall on the floor, sound and roll.
I pounced to pick it up, and I took the tablets off the floor, and I picked them up a little bit.
The neighbours had left silently, with three politely decent points.
He just looked at me with cold eyes.
“I didn’t know you were such a disgusting person. I’m sorry.
“You know what? I’m sorry.
“You killed your sister. I’m sorry.
“You’re responsible for this.” I’m sorry.
“You deserve it. I’m sorry.
I didn’t look up, and I was numb to continue to pick up pills on the ground.
I can guess when the Quarters knew.
I didn’t tell Quinton about my knot.
But after the engagement, he always hinted at me and took him back to his parents.
My relationship with my mother is not good, and the gap between childhood still exists, let alone she hates me.
Then we stopped talking.
A week ago, he disappeared a day ago and came back with a different attitude towards me.
Three days ago, he took the assistant home.
Two people entangled on the couch.
I was asleep and woke up by the noises downstairs thinking he was working late.
I just wanted to ask him if he was hungry, and he was crucified by the scene.
The Queens’ assistant was beautiful, long-haired on the chest of the Queens and wanted to kiss him.
The Quechua was not hiding, leaving her with a beautiful lipstick on his face.
And bring people into my arms.
The assistant cried out, like a cat, and said, “Come on. Your girlfriend’s still here. I’m sorry.
It’s just that there’s so much to talk about.
It smells like booze in the living room.
I was trying to fool myself with it.
But it saw me.
His eyes were on my face and he was contemptible.
Like a poison knife.
“Don’t worry about her. I’m sorry.
“She doesn’t deserve it. I’m sorry.
“If it wasn’t for that face…”
I didn’t hear it in the back. The symptoms of bodyization come fast, the stomach is disgusting, the burning goes up from the stomach.
I fell and ran into the toilet.
Strangling and vomiting.
When the tears fall.
What I’m thinking is what he said the day of my first encounter.
Don’t cry.
It’s not pretty to cry.
I threw up until I couldn’t.
The Quarters are by the door.
“Is that enough for you? I’m sorry.
“But the most disgusting…”
“Not you. I’m sorry.
Six.
I don’t know when the Quarter left.
When all the pills were picked up in the bottle, I was left alone in the room.
And I sat in the ruins, and I watched as the frame fell not far, and picked it up.
Sharp pieces cut my hand and red blood fell on my face.
The pictures were taken in the streets of the ancient city with the Quasis.
He bought a bunch of sugar pickles, laughed, came towards me, and I looked at him with my back.
The crowding of people is the background.
A young man who buys sugar only for his own sake, and a lover who looks at the lights, becomes the lead.
When the girl who took the photo gave it to me, she also wished me a long time. I’m sorry.
I was holding my hand and my fingers were tied.
He whispered in my ear:
“Come on, Moon. I’m sorry.
“We’re going to live long. I’m sorry.
I’d love to get better.
So I’m actively treating, taking drugs.
I was the only one who survived, and when I despaired, I used to use my physical pain to relieve the depression.
Just don’t die.
As long as I do not break my promise to her.
All right.
Then it appeared that I started seeing a doctor.
And when it was only one step away from the abyss, the hand that reached me pushed me.
I fell into darkness again.
7
The Quarters don’t get home much.
My mom’s text messages are regularly bombed every day.
Scold me, bitch.
Ask why I died.
I can’t watch much.
Unstable emotions are like a bomb, and if it explodes, I may not really be able to control myself.
I hired someone to clean up the house.
My aunt asked me if I’d throw it away.
I looked at what was in her hands for a while and shook my head.
I went out to a friend’s appointment after I sent my aunt away.
Sioux works in the province. She’s on a business trip. She asked me to dinner.
Booked in a Western restaurant.
The piano’s music continues to flow, and as soon as you see me, you give me a hug.
Let me go and look at me: “Why are you thin?” I thought you’d get fat and white all the time. I’m sorry.
I didn’t talk.
“He’s bad for you.” I’m sorry.
“It’s hard to get together and not talk about him.” I’m sorry.
It’s ready.
Sioux ate while talking to me about her recent situation, spitting on her colleagues, and she made me laugh.
The eyebrow bends with a fork, poking a piece of beef, and then the smile lies on his face before it is put in his mouth.
This restaurant is perfect for couples.
The environment is good.
But it shouldn’t be the Quinton and his assistant.
Men are extremely gentlemanly to pull out their seats.
Pretty woman with laughter thanks.
Roses on the table are glamorous.
The diamond ring on my hand reflected the light of the crystal light, shaking my eyes a little bit.
It’s been a while since I’ve seen it.
And for the moment that he was in my eyes, he showed a smile with no temperature.
The next second, I saw him stretching his hand to the hair of the assistant.
The movement is incoherent.
That’s what Sioux saw when I looked at it.
She almost got angry and got up with a glass on the table.
“Don’t go. I’m sorry.
I grabbed her hand, almost begging, “Don’t go. I’m sorry.
She was in my tears for seconds and finally sat down.
I turned out a bottle of medicine from the bag, shivering and wringing the lids, and my stomach was in pain.
I didn’t come back from my suffocation until I took the pill.
But this meal is no longer available.
When I went out with the bag and the Sioux language, I walked through the Quinton and Guan Ling.
Sioux couldn’t put up with that, and the glass fell.
The red liquid spreads over the table and drops tickingly.
As soon as Guan Ling turns his eyebrow, he has to fight with Sioux.
“Sorry. I’m sorry.
When Guang Ling was about to have an attack, when she saw me next to her, he turned to smile:
“This is a nice couple’s meal. I’m sorry.
“You like it? “The Quechua laughs, “I’ll bring you here often.” I’m sorry.
I didn’t see them.
It’s just that it’s so white on the table that it’s dark, and it drops and drops.
Sioux sensed something wrong, stood up right in front of me, separated my eyes and pulled me out of here.
8
I sat on a co-driver and I was unconsciously trying to screw the cap.
But he didn’t hold his hand. The bottle fell on the floor.
I didn’t pick it up, my nails were strangled in the flesh.
To force myself to remain awake on the brink of despair and collapse, which are about to drown.
“A moon. I’m sorry.
Moon!
Sioux called me loud.
I woke up.
“Why don’t you break up with him?”
“It’s just an engagement anyway. I’m sorry.
I didn’t talk.
“I know he was there for you, and I’m grateful for you getting better. I’m sorry.
“But he cheated. I’m sorry.
“A moon. I’m sorry.
The light from the window fell on the Sioux-language face and her tone was irrefutable:
“Let’s break up with him. I’m sorry.
The car fell into a dead silence.
It’s been a while.
I just heard myself.
I said, “No good. I’m sorry.
The car stopped on the side of the road.
Seatbelts to the chest.
Sioux punched on the steering wheel, turning his head, but he saw the silence in my face.
Half a day.
I just heard her ask me:
“What is it that trapes you? I’m sorry.
I’m not talking.
She looked at me, mean, like an answer.
What’s holding me?
I closed my eyes.
The red liquid is still flowing, dripping.
Like there’s no rest.
I’m trapped in a similar statement.
It was the hand that tried to pull me out of the abyss.
I’m stuck with a two-year-old.
I don’t have a sister anymore.
I don’t have a home anymore.
I opened my eyes, but I couldn’t see a tear.
Red-eyed, like a wounded baby,
Ridiculous and ridiculous.
“Arabic. I’m sorry.
I mumbling, repeat.
“I don’t have a home anymore. I’m sorry.
9
Sioux hugged me when he left without saying anything but to remember to see a doctor on time.
I nod my head.
But in the closing of the door, the hidden emotions were quickly broken out, stronger than ever.
My aunt was only home organized, and I messed up again.
I’m like a madman. I’m throwing things on the floor.
The sound is clear when the glass breaks.
But not enough.
Maybe it’s been too long, and the impulses are stronger than ever.
The devil shouts in my ear.
Let me hold a fruit knife against my wrist.
But it’s too late.
The door was suddenly opened.
Quinton’s hand is half-empty, and I look at it.
I’ve taken a knife a million times before and he’s freaking out.
Don’t let me touch anything sharper.
But this time.
He just stood there with a cold look like a bystander.
The sound of the second needle moving on the wall is clear.
“Do it. I’m sorry.
He looked at me, and he laughed and repeated:
“Put the knife down. I’m sorry.
I didn’t move, I looked at him like a puppet.
He smiled and his eyes were sore.
“You don’t dare. I’m sorry.
“You’re just trying to get sympathy. I’m sorry.
“Why didn’t you die?”
His tone was innocent and indefatigable, as if it were a mere question.
I used all my energy to restrain myself.
“You know what? I’m sorry.
“You dare not die.” I’m sorry.
He almost finished that sentence.
It’s not.
Drugs and commitments pull down.
I can’t die.
But I can’t live.
The knife in my hand, slammed on the ground, fell to my feet.
Desperate like vines, haunting my body, finally making me cry.
And when we cried before, the Quechua held me in my arms, and the cold whispered, whispering.
Like that.
Like…
That guy, like.
Always wipes my tears gently with a handkerchief with fragrances, then holds me in my arms and whispers:
“The moon doesn’t cry. I’m sorry.
“It’s not pretty to cry. I’m sorry.
What an old-fashioned story.
But I’ve been listening for more than a decade, and I’ve never been bored.
In this world,
No one’s going to make me do this anymore.
10
I’m getting deeper and deeper in the mud.
Sometimes I forget my pills.
Sometimes it’s just a big load of mouth.
And then I started scratching my arms with a knife.
A year ago, a light scar was added.
But not fatal.
The bottle was empty.
I don’t know how I made it.
It’s a bad day for my sister.
It was clear that day.
I got up early, packed up the mess and bought a bunch of flowers.
But when I got there.
There’s someone ahead of me.
Mom stood there with all kinds of stuff in front of her grave.
I walked away without an expression and put the flowers down.
Turning around and walking, heavy things hit me in the head.
I almost fell on the ground.
The flowers, which were originally wrapped up, were scattered to the ground.
She’s got a hysteric hysteria in her tone:
“What are you doing here?”
“You’re a murderer. How can you have a face to see her? I’m sorry.
But she cried again:
“It’s you! I’m sorry.
I didn’t look back.
He’s a little dizzy, like he’s on a cliff.
I held my hand tight and forced myself to calm down and get out of here.
I saw the doctor’s text when I was in the car.
She asked me why I didn’t come.
I look at her head like she’s in a coma.
– I’m sorry for the delay.
It’s coming back fast.
– I’ll give you another time. When can you come?
Forget it.
Enter a flash of the cursor in the box.
I didn’t send it.
– I’ll see you next time.
Eleven.
It’s been a long time since I’ve been home.
It’s not Guan Ling who sent him home, it’s his other male subordinate.
When I got back, I was looking into an empty bottle.
It’s been empty for a long time.
The men took the Quasi to the couch and politely said goodbye.
It’s rare to get drunk, he’s got a heavy drink in the house, he’s got a red face, and he’s a bit of a stale.
It’s just us.
The light in the living room was bright and fell on the face of the monsoon, half-eyed, but side-sided towards me.
I put the bottle down and looked at him in the face.
The next second he struggled from the couch and looked at me.
I didn’t come over, I looked in my eyes, I laughed, and my eyes were red.
Call me “Sing.” I’m sorry.
“I haven’t thought of you in a long time. I’m sorry.
“I met someone. I’m sorry.
“She looks like you. I’m sorry.
“I’m going to marry her. I’m sorry.
“But, but…”
Her mother said she killed you…
I looked at him like an ice cellar.
He said something. I didn’t hear a word.
The “Sing” in his speech.
I know him.
Two years ago, he jumped off the stairs.
I died, sister-in-law.
Nguyen Artist.
No wonder.
It’s no wonder the first time I was in Queens was surprised.
No wonder he was so nice to me when he first met.
No wonder he said, “If it wasn’t for this face…”
Turns out it’s my face that looks like my sister.
My own salvation.
It’s just another abyss.
I fell and ran into the library.
Wrestling hands go through books that pile up in the corner.
By my book falling on the ground.
Full room.
I finally found what I wanted.
High school diploma.
The blue face of the Quarter.
And those in beautiful uniform, 18 like flowers.
Sister.
My confused brain finally found a little light.
It’s just the next second, and the people down there came in and tried to take my picture.
He was drunk, but he woke up.
“Why?”
“Why didn’t you die?”
The protection wall, which had been built in an effort, had finally collapsed.
The bomb blew up in my head, losing my last sense.
I tried my best to bring him here:
I’ll give her back.
“I give her back…”
“A life for a life. I’m sorry.
“Is that all right?”
It’s like you want to laugh.
But I didn’t look at him and ran into the kitchen and got a fruit knife.
It seemed like he was finally panicking and tripping to get me.
But he was drunk and couldn’t catch me.
I can only watch my back disappear from home.
Behind him he shouted the nickname I used to call:
Moon!
“A moon…”
But I didn’t look back.
12
The car was moving at speed on the road.
The face on that picture was in my head.
I almost forgot.
She used to be so fresh, so pretty.
To the end.
I can only remember her eyes were empty and covered in blood that day.
A lot of blood.
I tried to wipe her off, but I couldn’t.
How can people bleed so much?
More of my white shirts are red.
It can’t be finished.
Mom came and hit me.
She grabbed my hair and ripped my scalp.
And then the fist fell on me.
“Why didn’t you answer her?”
“She hit nine! I’m sorry.
“Nine! You haven’t answered one!”
“She wouldn’t have had to die.”
“She could have survived…”
“It’s all you…”
“Why don’t you answer the phone! ♪ ♪ And I’m ♪
Crying and roaring slammed into my chest like stones, like blades, stomping in my heart.
It’s bloody.
It’s my fault.
It’s all my fault.
It’s me…
I killed my sister myself.
13
I can’t remember much with the drugs.
In particular, I have deliberately failed to remember.
But today, those memories that I have deliberately forgotten come back.
The waves are clogged in the chest, like a nucleus stuck in the throat, unable to enter, unable to retreat.
Remembering is faster than anything in the world.
It made me crash halfway.
I forgot too much.
That’s why it’s so heavy that I can’t breathe.
I forgot I was a little late to play downstairs when I was six. Mom locked me up in the dark room and wouldn’t let me out.
I was scared to close my eyes.
It’s my sister holding me over and over and over.
I forgot when I was nine years old when my mother beat me up and cried in the corner.
My sister wipes my tears and laughs at me: “It’s not pretty for the moon to cry. I’m sorry.
I squeezed out a smile.
Tears fall into your mouth.
Salty.
She smiled, too: “The moon smiles the most beautiful.” I’m sorry.
I forgot when I left home when I was 12, the snow closed, and I fainted.
It was my sister who kept looking for me in the cold.
It’s only in the snow that I find myself in the cold.
When she woke up, she looked red on the side of my bed.
I held her and said I’d never run away again.
I forgot that when I was 15, my parents were hired by my teacher, and my mother slapped me at the door of the school.
Call me an animal.
It was the first time I thought about dying.
Cut his wrist with a fruit knife.
Discovered by my sister.
She hit 120, shivering around my wrist with gauze.
She said, “What will happen to your sister when you leave, little moon?”
“Don’t you want your sister?”
I regret it.
I can’t leave my sister alone.
I promised her that time.
No more suicides.
I forgot to volunteer when I was 17 years old, and my mom did it again, changing my province, 985, to one of the two at cost.
That’s what she used to do when she volunteered.
But this time sister strongly disagrees.
She took me and Mom to fight.
She touched my head and told me firmly: “The moon, you must go to a better university.” I’m sorry.
But such a good sister.
But not her little moon.
If I wasn’t busy that day.
If I hadn’t put my cell phone silent that day.
If I took her on that day…
She can survive.
14
It’s a dark night outside the window.
I’m sobbing with my mouth.
Suffering to crawl to my body, late sorrow to bend my back.
# In the night when I can’t see #
My soul is being pushed over and over again.
The living keep their promises.
But sister.
It’s too bitter.
Your little moon can’t hold.
I’ll find you, okay.
Sister.
14
The car was parked in front of the cemetery.
I took a knife and I didn’t turn my head back on the rock road.
The picture on the tablet is black and white.
I used to rush.
I can’t look at her.
But this time it’s different.
The fruit knife reflected the cold moonlight in the sky.
I hardly hesitated.
The skin on the wrists is weak, and the blood slides in front of it.
Follow your arm and slide slowly.
I watched the red drop of liquid in peace.
Waiting peacefully for death.
There’s a small noise coming from behind.
I consciously turned back.
But I’m not going to look at a man with flowers.
His eyes were on my face, and he looked at me for a moment, and when he moved down to my wrist, he immediately turned.
Almost for a moment, the flowers were dropped and a handkerchief was pulled to cover my wound.
Blood is drawn from white handkerchiefs.
He grabbed my other hand and left.
I was pulled by him.
But his eyes were on his other hand.
I’ve seen another one of these pairs.
It used to get into the necklace.
Put it on my sister’s neck.
This man.
She was the lover.
15
He drove fast, as if he had died, to the hospital.
The doctor took care of the wound.
There’s a lot of hospital people at night, too.
I sat on the hospital chair, put my hands on my legs and waited for my dues.
The cell phone on the chair is still ringing.
The contact interface always shows the words “America” and the phones go on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on.
Don’t you answer?
I shook my head.
Just staring at the ring on his hand.
His eyes fell on my arm, as if he had been stabbed and taken back.
And then hands up, and they’re in the air.
It’s like trying to touch my head, but it’s not good.
It’s been a while since he’s had his breath.
“Long Moon. I’m sorry.
“Your sister has something at my place. I’m sorry.
“I want you to see it. I’m sorry.
I promised.
16
My mother called me when she took the iron box from upstairs.
But I didn’t answer.
He handed me the box and kindly opened it for me.
“This is Xing’s baby. I’m sorry.
Men remember their sisters and smile softly.
“I used to show her what was in there, she wouldn’t let me. I’m sorry.
“It says it’s all her most precious treasure. I’m sorry.
“I never dared to open the room where she lived before, but only recently saw her leave the box here. I’m sorry.
“I saw it.”
He looked at me with a little red eye.
“But I think you’re the one who should see it. I’m sorry.
I opened the box slowly.
There’s a lot of stuff in there, and it’s a lot of stuff.
Some are old.
I made her a picture when I was six.
She was wearing a gorgeous dress and a crown like a princess.
I bought them at the commissary when I was eight.
Taste and cheap.
I said one by one, not on her like a silk.
My 10-year-old school used to weave bracelets, a few hairy colored lines, and I made her a little star and paint bell.
Hang on. It’ll still ring.
When I was 12 years old, I went to a temple on the outskirts of the school and was put on a pavilion and bought a polished “Manaustone”.
Wear it with red rope and say it’s safe.
I brought her back like a treasure.
Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen…
Until I was a grown-up.
It’s scattered, worthless little things.
And she is a treasure, a treasure and a treasure.
“What treasure…”
I put my sleeves in my eyes.
It’s obvious it’s some shit nobody wants.
Sister.
17
He took me to the hotel and left me his number.
There’s a thick diary in my sister’s box.
He hesitated or said, “Call me when you go.” I’m sorry.
I nod my head.
The phone’s still ringing.
I threw it over the side.
Start going through that diary.
Very, very thick.
I’ve been at the hotel for four days.
And thin.
Thin to this one is my sister’s brief life.
My sister and I are single parents.
Mom’s too controlling.
Our childhood was never a good memory.
Instead, it is endless verbal abuse, punishment and humiliation.
I and my sister were the only salvation of each other during that painful and inexorable time.
So she wrote a lot about her little moon.
I even went to college.
She thought of me in her diary…
Think of her little moon, if she’s happy, if she’s dressed, if she’s eating, if she’s taking care of herself.
It says that she later met with a confession.
Two together.
But Mom doesn’t agree.
Let them break up and let their sister go to her favorite man.
Sister doesn’t want to. She’s hiding it.
The diary stopped seven days before the sister jumped.
Mom found her sister living with her husband.
She came to the door.
In front of everyone, she was called a slut and secretly lived with a man.
Scolding her sister is not good.
She forced her sister to resign.
Take your sister home.
The last two lines of that piece of paper were stunned by tears.
Sister says…
I can’t hold it.
Sorry.
18
I haven’t really thought about her in a long time.
Because I can’t.
The chain effects of memory are a consequence that I cannot afford.
Only that day, a year ago.
It’s like she’s back there.
I’m going to sit on her legs and listen to her sing.
But wake up.
And I’m gonna make myself forget it.
But I am.
I’d love to miss her.
I had four days of dreams.
Dreaming about me and her when she was little.
The fourth day I woke up.
Full of tears.
I leaned over the bed and looked out the window at the bright sun.
I remember her in her dreams, smiling, touching my head and saying:
“Be happy. I’m sorry.
“The little moon smiles, it’s the best. I’m sorry.
I buried myself in a pillow.
Fortunately…
I’m glad I’m silent.
19
There’s a lot of uncalled calls on the phone.
I only took the Sioux call.
Tell her it’s safe.
She said the Quinton was looking for me.
If I don’t show up, he’ll call the police.
I said I knew.
I hung up on the phone and I called him. I said I was going home.
He came fast.
Are you okay?
I nod my head.
The scenery outside the window continues to float, and there is a smooth and pure music in the car.
We’re not talking to anyone.
And when it came to pass, he said, “Did you not receive a telephone call that day?”
“Yes. I’m sorry.
The car was parked downstairs.
He looked me in the eye.
“Sing called me that day. I’m sorry.
“and I couldn’t keep her. I’m sorry.
“Long Moon. I’m sorry.
He called me by my name, with a solemn look.
“She called you just to say goodbye. I’m sorry.
“So don’t blame yourself. I’m sorry.
“Your sister…”
“More than anyone wants you to be happy. I’m sorry.
Yeah.
I should have known.
I covered my face.
She loved me that much.
Why would I blame you?
I couldn’t get out on my own.
I’m the one who won’t forgive myself.
20
On the sofa when the door opens.
And when my eyes shined, and the desolate eyes were emptied, as if they were lost and reborn.
“A moon. I’m sorry.
“Great. I’m sorry.
He came at me like a madman and held me hard like he was gonna put me in his arms.
“Great. I’m sorry.
“You’re alive. I’m sorry.
“I was wrong. I’m sorry.
“I was wrong. I’m sorry.
He murmured his apologies, his back on his back, his position was low and his head was buried in my neck.
I struggled to push him away, but I was held even harder.
I tried to scold him, but I was stiff.
The hot liquid drops into the neck and slides down the neck.
“A moon. I’m sorry.
He was shaking and his voice was getting lower: “I thought…”
“I thought I was really losing you…”
Before I opened my mouth, I was pulled away by someone who had come to me and punched me in the chest.
I was behind him.
He’s got flowers like my sister’s. It’s so sweet.
It’s like he’s going to be hit the next second.
Brother-in-law. I’m sorry.
I cried out to him, “Go ahead. I’m sorry.
The look in the Quarters is stiff, but it’s like a relief.
His words were silent for a moment:
“If Xing sees her little moon so miserable, I’m sorry.
“I’m sorry I left. I’m sorry.
I almost had a red eye.
There’s only two of us left.
Silence is scattered.
I look at the Quasi and say it without an expression:
“Let’s break the contract. I’m sorry.
21
Quinton refused.
But I don’t need his answer.
The dissolution of the marriage contract does not require the consent of the other party.
I took my diary back to the house where I hadn’t been home for two years.
The moment I opened the door, it looked like my mom was a couple of years old.
She looked me in the eye and she was half red.
But it was just a mustache, and her shame and grief were withdrawn.
In exchange for common hatred.
“I’m not dead. Didn’t I say suicide?”
I lifted up my hand in the gauze, and I answered in a calm manner: “Almost.” I’m sorry.
Before she did, I took out the diary in the bag.
She’s not answering.
“The sister’s diary. I’m sorry.
I put it down and walked and looked at her.
“Mommy. I’m sorry.
“Me and my sister are living people. I’m sorry.
She’s a natural.
Soft, yet most vulnerable.
Like a container that doesn’t export.
All the negative emotions can’t be solved, they can only be added as their mother behaves.
When it’s too late.
There’s no way to fix it.
22
I asked Sioux to come with me to the house in Quinoa to pack, and when she came, she brought a specially made iron bar, and she said it would be hard for her to hate her without hitting him.
I packed it downstairs and she stood at the stairwell with a stick, staring at the stairwell.
I don’t have much.
I’ve been hit by my mother before, and I’ve been hit less.
Two suitcases are full.
Sioux failed. I didn’t want her to take civil responsibility. She dragged me down a suitcase.
The Quarters sat on the sofa, looking down at me, with red eyes.
I went to pick up the frame on the tea table.
Up on the Quarter and I’m laughing.
And I took scissors out of my drawer, and when I tried to cut the picture, I moved on the Quarter.
His hand was between scissors and photographs.
I used it hard.
Scissors stick into the flesh, skin is scratched and blood beaded.
Look at me in the Quarter, the eyes are broken.
“Is that necessary?”
I asked him, “Isn’t that why you’re with me anyway?”
“It’s only disgusting to pretend now. I’m sorry.
He opened his mouth to counter me, but the mood changed, and in the end it was just a murmur:
“No, it’s not. I’m sorry.
“No, it’s not…”
I didn’t pay attention to him. Grab the picture.
@Ambassah: #Jan25 #Jan25
Fall at our feet.
Broken, not just pictures.
I bowed down to pick up those fragments, just like I did on my knees that day, and I fell asleep to pick up the pills.
I looked at him like he was.
It’s ridiculous.
I left here without looking back.
When I stepped out the door, I was alone again.
I don’t have a home again.
But I’m not afraid anymore.
Numerous times have fallen into the abyss.
Last one saved me, sister.
She wants her little moon to be happier than anyone.
Then I’ll live.
Living better than anyone.
23
I got a message from Mom in two weeks.
I went to Denmark with the Manaustone.
I didn’t know until I got back.
I went to see her at the asylum.
Her hair was messed up and she cried and laughed.
People say they have two daughters.
Laughing and crying.
They say they killed their two daughters.
Said he killed his daughter.
Pull your own hair and hit yourself.
The nurse’s going to give her a sedative.
I just looked at it quietly and left.
24
I started running to the hospital all the time, taking medication and counselling.
Every time I go alone.
The doctor smiled at the computer and said I’ve been better and better.
I laughed.
“Long Moon. I’m sorry.
“A man must look forward to life. I’m sorry.
“We have to learn to forgive. I’m sorry.
I was standing in front of the hospital for a long time.
At the start of school nearby, there was a lot of noise in the streets.
The vendor’s voice was selling, the children’s noise and the adults’ voice was calling out names.
The phone rings, the strange number sends a photograph.
I cut the picture the other day and respelled it.
I almost didn’t hesitate to delete it, and then get to know it.
Two little girls held hands and laughed and walked through me, one with a bunch of sugar.
One said, “There are so many homeworks today, can you teach me?” I’m sorry.
And the other one said, “Okay, you finish writing and we can watch TV together.” I’m sorry.
I watched them go away until they disappeared.
25
I drove to my sister’s grave.
Deep fall.
Leaf stacked in front of the grave.
I stood there and talked to her about my situation.
Say where I went and met someone.
Say I’ve had a lot more to eat than before.
Says I’ve been looking forward and the doctor says I’m probably getting better.
But.
But finally.
Laughing, crying.
I can’t let go.
Sister.
I just graduated from work that year.
Once the projects at hand are finished, they can get a very good bonus.
I’ve been planning this for a long time.
When it’s over, plus the scholarship and part-time pay I saved at college.
You can take your sister and go to her favorite Nordic town.
That was the last day of the project.
I’m so busy.
But I’m happy.
Think.
It’s almost over, so you can take your sister out.
She’ll be happy.
The same day.
Sister jumped from the top floor.
I haven’t had a home since.
Almost.
We’re almost happy.
Why, don’t wait for your little moon.
Sister.
The wind is hunting.
No response.
Note
One.
The Quechua has finished the picture.
He fought over and over again.
As if we were not tired.
On the photo, Nguyen smiled at the corner of the moon.
She hasn’t laughed much since he met her.
There’s always a blizzard in the eyebrows.
That’s when he tried to help her.
Because she’s smiling, really beautiful.
It’s not like Nguyen Ying is beautiful.
Two.
Actually know the truth when.
He thinks he should hate him.
But there was a moment of confusion, that is, a moment of confusion, which left him with an unknown shame.
It’s like, betraying Nguyen Ying.
So he convinced himself over and over again.
I should have hated Nguyen Yuen.
In the end, he believed.
That’s why he’s bad for Nguyen Luna.
She even died over and over again.
Nguyen Luna won’t be angry.
She won’t even refute him.
It’s just a complete acceptance, like being locked up in a world where she’s alone.
But that day.
He was drunk and questioned why she died.
He saw with his own eyes the light in her eyes.
Desperation was like a beast tearing through a cage and running in her eyes.
She finally reacted.
She said…
“Then I give her back. I’m sorry.
She said, “A life for a life.” I’m sorry.
“Is that enough?”
Quinton wanted to catch up.
But he’s too slow.
We can only watch her disappear.
He’s too scared.
The fear of losing her is more intense than the hatred he has repeatedly stressed.
He made a hard call to her phone, desperately wondered where she would go, dragged her to an unbalanced body and walked on the road looking for her.
I’ve got nothing.
3
The Quechua woke up from that day’s nightmare and was panicking about where it was.
But moonlight is silver.
Light up his empty bed.
Once upon a time, she was restless.
He woke up several times in the night and saw tears on her face.
This also led him to come back late every time he worked late.
She’ll wake up.
Hold him in his sleep and ask him if he’s hungry and if he wants to have a snack.
The lights were warm at that time.
He looked at her.
There’s only one thought.
Marry her home.
It’s her.
Not Nguyen Ying.
But she has nothing to do with him anymore.
4
On the day he got drunk, he stood in front of the hotel and called Moon.
But many times.
It’s all just busy.
Friends advised him to go home first.
He shook his head stubbornly.
“You…”
“Call. I’m sorry.
“To whom?”
Friends of a fog.
Call…
Call Moon. I’m sorry.
He took his cell phone and aired it to that mean number.
“You said I was drunk and asked if she could pick me up. I’m sorry.
A friend had a cell phone and talked to someone across the street.
It’s hard to hang up on the phone.
“Ace, you better go back. I’m sorry.
“What did Moon say? I’m sorry.
“…”
“She’s not coming. I’m sorry.
“Go back first. I’m sorry.
How could you not come?
She was the one who came to pick him up.
Quinton felt his friends lied.
Recalcitrantly.
“The moon will come.” I’m sorry.
“I’ll wait here for her. I’m sorry.
My friend couldn’t talk him out of it. He was called away by his wife.
Seasons stood in the cold all night.
It was only in the morning that his head became clear.
Moon.
It’s not his moon anymore.
It’s him.
He cut off their fate.
5
I can’t let go of her.
The broken picture was spelled, glued up or put in the same position.
He was hiding in the shadows and spying on her life.
Look at her getting a little more open.
Watching her find a job she likes, she shares daily with her colleagues.
As she gets more and more smiling, each picture is full of smiles.
I don’t know.
Look at her and take another man’s hand.
He was about to die at the wine table that day.
The infusion took a day.
He woke up looking at the white walls of the hospital.
I suddenly realized that.
It turns out he’s the only one.
Six.
The Quechua started drinking.
He’s a regular in the hospital.
The doctor is familiar with him and often looks at him sighs and exhorts him to take care of his body.
But the Quintons still drink.
Until the doctor put the diagnosis in front of him.
“The stomach cancer. I’m sorry.
The Quechua received the diagnosis with little expression.
When he came out of the building, the sun was stinging him.
And he heard that which caused him to think day and night.
“Kilice! Why didn’t you tell me you had an accident? I’m sorry.
He’s turning back.
He was seen standing there, a bit angry and talking to a man in a sick uniform.
He’s never seen moon so vivid.
“I was wrong. It’s not to worry about you. I’m sorry.
Men laughed at her and held her in their arms.
“Don’t worry, I’m almost done. I’m sorry.
“When you get back, make me some rib soup. I’m sorry.
“Okay, little moon. I’m sorry.
“Why do you suddenly call me that?” I’m sorry.
“Because…”
“I had a dream. I’m sorry.
“Somebody asked me to take good care of her little moon. I’m sorry.
“So…”
“Can I have some of that rib soup for your husband?” I’m sorry.
Nguyen Luna smiles.
“Well, isn’t the hospital for sale? I’m sorry.
“But I just want to drink what you make. I’m sorry.
Then they said something.
Queueu didn’t hear.
He watched them disappear around the corner.
He stood in the crowd and felt untold pain.
It’s not really good for Moon.
But it’s unforgettable.
Bone soup.
She did it for him.
Only then he didn’t know.
It was so ordinary that it became his brief life.
and seek no more than a precious treasure.
No wonder.
No wonder people always say…
It was normal.
Extra: Star’s little moon.
July 18, XX07
I came home late after school and my mom yelled at me.
At night, when writing homework, the moon came to me with a rope.
My mom found out, and she was scolded again.
She threw the rope in the trash and the moon tried to pick it up before she noticed.
But the rope was cut.
29 August XX07
I accidentally broke the cup and my mom got mad and asked if I didn’t have eyes.
I can’t eat for a day.
I’m so hungry.
Mom went out at night and the moon secretly brought me two cookies.
I swallowed it, almost choked.
The moon’s on the side laughing.
30 August XX07
Mom found out about the cookies.
When I came back from the tutorial, my mother took a hanger and hit her on the little moon and called her a pig.
Take snacks without her permission.
When she heard the noise, she looked up with tears on her face.
And then I got a smile on my face where Mom couldn’t see it.
I held her when she cried.
She said sister, don’t tell Mom.
Otherwise, I’ll take it for nothing.
11 June XX08
Mathematics is only 80 points.
I didn’t dare show Mom the roll, but she waited for me at home as soon as she got home.
She said the teacher called her.
She said she was disappointed.
She came at me with a coat hanger and said she wouldn’t remember if she didn’t hit me.
Mom beats people up.
But the second one didn’t fall on me.
Because the moon came to hold me.
She cried and told Mom not to hit me.
Mom didn’t pay attention to her.
She was in front of me, and all the pain fell on her.
But my tears fell out of control.
I said I was wrong. I know I was wrong. I’ll study.
Stop fighting.
Please, Mom.
But she didn’t listen.
But she didn’t listen.
12 June XX08
The moon sits down and it hurts.
I watched her cry.
She said it’s okay.
Don’t cry.
She laughed and said:
I’ve been beaten so many times by my mother, and I’m not so bad.
21 April XX09
She went home with the little moon and looked at the stand on the street a little bit.
But we only have enough money to buy a cake.
She looked at it for a while and took my hand and left.
I bought her one.
She split half for me and I said no.
She had fun and said I was the best sister in the world.
I said.
That little moon is the best sister in the world.
5 September XX11
My aunt gave me a dress on her birthday.
White, beautiful.
I wore them when I went out with my classmates and came back to see them.
She yelled at me to take it off and cut it in pieces with scissors.
“What are you doing dressed like this without learning? I’m sorry.
“To seduce who!”
“The grade to be studied is to learn with peace, and less to be mixed up with people!” I’m sorry.
“…”
I watched her throw a dress that had been turned into rags into a trash can.
I actually want to cry.
Mom.
It’s just an ordinary white dress.
6 October XX11
The little moon gave me one thing, a white dress she had sewn.
The red line is crooked, like a bug.
She said she learned it with Grandma downstairs.
First time, so it’s a little ugly.
I grabbed the hand she wanted to hide.
There are three stickers on it.
I held her crying.
I said I’d never wear a dress again.
She held me too.
Eyes dark, like two grapes.
She said she was like a fairy and beautiful without a dress.
She said fairies without skirts are fairies.
We actually look so alike.
But she just thinks I’m a lot prettier than her.
Like,
In my eyes, she’s the most beautiful person in the world.
23 September XX13
Little Moon always had a fight with Mom.
Every time they get beaten.
But she doesn’t remember pain.
Next time you fight with Mom.
She lays a pillow on my leg and makes me sing to her.
I touched her head so she wouldn’t stand up to her mother and get a little hurt.
She looked at the wall.
Half a day back to me.
She said sister, I can’t listen to her forever.
24 October XX15
Quick sophomores, too much pressure, and a hundred points back.
The teacher called me to the office.
I promise I’ll keep going, and I’ll ask her when I leave, if you won’t tell my mom.
She said it depends.
28 October XX15
When I came home, Mom’s apples were coming straight at me.
I didn’t hide, hit me, dirty my clothes.
She came over and slapped me hard.
“You fell in love at school? I’m sorry.
“The grade has been reversed by more than a hundred, and you want to keep it from me? I’m sorry.
“Ten Ying Sing!”
“Do you have a mother like me in your eyes? I’m sorry.
“Have I worked so hard for you to go to school so that you can make love to others? I’m sorry.
I didn’t.
I didn’t.
I don’t have an early love.
I’m not in love!
I wanted to say something.
But I can’t say it.
She won’t listen.
She won’t believe it.
I’m used to keeping silent.
It’s so impossible to talk.
9 March XX16
I don’t have a good mind.
The closer the exam, the more restless.
The more unsettling, the more unsure it becomes, the less able it is to use its original level.
Little moon weekends with classmates.
I held my hand in secret and said she went to the temple today.
She said she asked for a signature before she went to Buddha.
Bless me for going to college.
She said the temple was spiritual.
She smiled with bright eyes.
I touched her hair and laughed.
I didn’t believe in ghosts.
But she’s so real.
I believe her.
8 June XX16
The final exam was finally easy.
The moon is at school.
There’s a lot of people.
When I came out, I saw her little one being pushed over and over again in the crowd.
I’ve been staring at the door of the school and looking for me.
I yelled at her.
Her eyes were brightened and she came at me and jumped into my arms.
She smiled in her eyes and asked me about the temple.
We hugged in crowded crowds.
I said, Ling.
I feel like I’m playing too much.
I’m sure I can get into a school I want.
It’s the moon.
25 June XX16
I did take the school I wanted to go to.
But Mom changed my volunteering.
I don’t know.
My life is ruined.
17 August XX17
Moon’s birthday.
I bought a little cake.
Mom says it’s her sad day and it’s not easy to sit on the couch and think about herself.
I didn’t talk to the moon.
She suddenly got angry and called us white-eyed wolves.
The scar on the little moon’s wrist was in the dark lights.
It hurts my eyes.
The little moon talked to me at night.
She got into the bed and the bed became crowded.
Just like when I was seven or eight.
The two were condensed and whispered.
She made me guess what she wanted.
I said I didn’t know, but it didn’t work.
She laughed and said that her wish was not with God.
She said she’d make a lot of money later.
And.
She hugged me, said.
I hope sister will be happy.
25 June XX18
Mom wants to volunteer for the moon.
Just like I did last time.
She won’t let us go too far. It’s best to be in her hands forever.
So she folded my wings.
But not the moon.
She’s a free bird.
To fly higher, further.
Best.
Don’t come back.
24 August XX18
Send the moon to the airport.
Mom still won’t talk to her. I’m the only one who’s here to send her.
She’s in a suitcase and she’s so excited.
Coming in.
I touched her head.
“Tell me if you need money. I’m sorry.
“Don’t worry about the money. I’m sorry.
I’m afraid she’s afraid of money.
She was afraid that she would treat herself badly to save money.
I can’t give her the best.
She can only be expected to think of me when she encounters difficulties.
She hugged me and said yes.
I watched her disappear in the crowd.
Little moon.
You must be happier than anyone.
(complete) file number: YXX12eo1ytwA5QxoyC3K3Q
I don’t know.
Keep your eyes on the road.
