Today is my 6731st day of captivity, and I yawn boredly and get up from the windowsill, grab the hateful pen in the warm afternoon sun, and try to get hold of it. It's just that as I get more and more annoyed by this pen, I hear the sound of chewing food that disgusts me even more.

I didn't have to look at it to know that it was the sound of Sulfur eating apples. Sorry, I forgot to mention Tithio, it was a husky in the house, a stupid Maharaja, comically holding an apple on the ground with one paw, and the dog's head was crookedly nibbling.

"Oh my God, a guy like you is also a Grim Reaper. I hissed, sat up on the windowsill, and looked down at the fool below with contempt.

Sulfur frowned, and the white spots in his eyes twitched. He spared the apple that represented ** in his mouth, and said in a joking tone, "If you want to say stupid, you are better than you, at least I won't use ** as a diary, it's really a stupid cat." ”

That's right, I'm a cat, an old cat that has lived for eighteen years. Precisely because I am a cat, I have nine lives, and I was not killed by me when I first got the **.

It was an accident, I just accidentally wrote my name in my diary. I still remember the strange way he looked when he saw the judge at the Ghost Gate Pass, when he saw the cause of my death. There is a kind of you who beat me into the eighteenth layer of hell, come and bite me, the master has nine lives, what's the big deal about writing yourself to death once, you haven't taken me for nothing, you have to send me back to this world obediently.

Anyway, I was also young and vigorous at that time, and I fell into the way of animals, how could I have so much courage to shout with the civil servants of the prefecture, and I really responded to the old saying that newborn calves are not afraid of tigers.

Who's a stupid calf. I jumped off the windowsill with my notebook in my hand, and walked to my mirror step by step with noble steps.

It was made for me by my minions, and it belonged only to me, and it was just a cat's height enough to allow me to shine all over my body. Remembering that it was an old object too, I gritted my teeth and remembered my hateful servant as I looked at the paint peeling off its frame.

It was really a long, dark childhood, without half a light. My minions, who are also just children in their species, went out with his family on weekends and came back with such a gift. At that time, I was still young, and I was playing with balls of yarn, and when I saw a guy playing ball like me in the mirror, I was shocked.

Since then I've been in a long battle of wits with the guy in the mirror, and most of the time I've won, but I've just pretended to tie so as not to embarrass the guy in the mirror.

Whenever I was fighting with the guy in the mirror, my servant was smiling as if he had seen something happy.

At first I thought he was laughing at the guy in the mirror for his indiscretion, but then I found out that he had been looking at me and laughing. If it weren't for the fact that there was not a single bird feather in his crotch at that time, I would have scrapped his set of friends like a ball of yarn, and let him know what it means to be a man who doesn't have a cat.

Well, I looked in the mirror, and Big Meow didn't care about the villain, so I spared his life for the time being. I looked in the mirror, my fat figure, and felt that time was really a pig-killing knife. I couldn't help but sigh, it turns out that cats love memories when they are old. I dragged my bloated figure to the bedroom, closed the door, climbed to the top of the cabinet with difficulty, and quietly wrote in my diary without being disturbed by a fool.

It's just that when I finally surrendered to the pen, I forgot what I was going to write. How many people have I died so far? I can't help but lift my paws and count them one by one.

The first one seems to be a servant's tablemate, and I can't remember exactly what his name was. So I turned to the first page of ** and began to look for clues in my diary. Oh, found it.

That's when I just understood that the guy in the mirror was me, and I was a strong and good cat who constantly challenged myself and overcame myself. A little girl brought home by the servant.

The two little guys are playing with each other, and they are really low-level creatures, only **, you are really born if you have the ability!

Several times I went over to have fun. But she actually abused me, obviously she also has two front paws, but she only gave me a massage, this is Hongguoguo's abuse.

I escaped from her scented clutches, grabbed her schoolbag very violently, took out a book, and looked at the name on it, Zhang Xinjia, okay, it's you. Without saying a word, I found the ** I had hidden, and under the gaze of Sulfur, wrote the first name that needed to die.

But how can I die? This is hard for me, I racked my brain and thought hard, just when I saw the Korean drama playing on the TV, okay, you have leukemia, and my little servant Yin and Yang are separated!

You have robbed my servants and mistreated me, and this is the retribution you deserve. The cat's jealousy is really incomprehensible. So,That's it,I wrote a cute little Lori by hand.,To this day,,I really think it's the source of all evil.。

If I had been a ninja cat at the time, I might not have died so many people later.

Since then, I've written about a lot of people, good guys, bad guys, ordinary people, and so-called geniuses.

With so many people dead, it is impossible for human society not to have a little repercussions. The bricks and professors came out collectively to discuss whether this was something similar to a saxophone, oh no. It's SAS. Sorry, I've always liked to call SARS a saxophone. I have no ill will, just habit.

They are looking at whether this is a new and sudden disease or a social phenomenon. Because most of the time, I don't bother to write down the cause of death, and basically I die from heart paralysis.

Therefore, they used this as a basis to say that these people who were written to death by me died suddenly because of the pressure of life and the fast pace of life.

Perhaps I wrote too many people to death, and they also said that it was a common pathological state of society, like a dozen people in the "conscience factory" Rich-Shi-Kang bungee jumping one after another and forgetting to wrap a rope around their waists. All of them are social events that can be called phenomenal.

I watched the TV, and I couldn't get used to the confident faces and words of the bricks inside.

So, I remembered their appearance, looked at the names of the guests on the table, and quickly wrote the names of several people, as well as the cause of death.

Deduct the effective time of **, and deduct the delay of the telecast. I admired my own handwriting in those two minutes.

Don't look at it written by a pair of cat's claws, but it's really a dragon flying and a phoenix dancing, with iron painting and silver hooks, and three points into the wood.

I blushed a little of myself, and peeked at Sulfur to see that he hadn't noticed me and was still nibbling on his apple core, and I was relieved. Otherwise, if he sees my ugliness, he will laugh at me again. Just like ten years ago, when I was bored playing with yarnball, he could laugh at me for ten years and still enjoy it.

After thinking about it for a while, several guests on the TV, from left to right, began to fall on the table one by one, and wrote the word "saxophone" with their left index finger.

The staff in the live broadcast room are very experienced, and when they saw several people fall one after another, they quickly switched to advertising.

"That doesn't hurt, it's easy every month! ——Wanxi Pharmaceutical. ”

. E., speaking advertising lines to upbeat music. But what's next on TV has nothing to do with ease.

The TV that was still colorful just now, the picture went black, and when it lit up again, it became black and white.

On the top side of the screen are written both in large black letters - "Obituary".