The identity of the administrator did not bring me much convenience, but I was suddenly questioned by the people in the class one by one.

I'm not very good at dealing with this situation because I only have one set of arguments ready and I can't make a reasonable response to everyone. As a result, no matter who asks me, I deal with it with a set of rhetoric, and in the end my image has a bad aspect.

I didn't play any important or prominent role in the class, and although my entrance grades and status as a math class representative may have given me a relatively high baseline for exposure, I managed to break out of the public eye with my careful management.

It wasn't what I wanted, and there was a reason why I had to.

I only used the sensitive words in my personal area, yes, I didn't try to use any admin privileges, more often than not, I just used the height of this identity to look down on these posts that might cause some bad effects.

I was careful not to rely on this power too much, because I knew it would be addictive.

That's what I think.

But the speed of the crowd's forgetting is far greater than the depth of the person's harm.

In other words, there are very few new posts on the topic except for a few posts that have been being dug up in the forums right now.

It's like it disappeared suddenly, and the hot search that was still dangling in front of me yesterday won't be visible today. The speed at which new things develop is far greater than the ability of people to accept them, but the rate at which people forget is also much faster than the rate at which new things dissipate.

It was supposed to be like this, and no one continued to care.

Neither the original indignation nor sympathy is gone. There will still be cats sitting in front of the supermarket, and there will still be people who will feed or drive away. And I finally found the cat in the post that had been pierced in the ear.

It shivered and hid in the corner.

But people's feeding always attracts its attention, and I don't think I should bring another cat into the house.

This is how it should have been to return to peace, and this is how it should have been forgotten. As long as no one provokes, there will be no problems.

But it's not just this forum that's problematic.

☆

In that uninhabited room, I turned on the light again. It was a warm-colored electric lamp, a relatively backward tungsten filament.

But the lighting is beautiful.

I stood silently in the dusty room and took the thing out of my bag.

Ring knives.

Trumpet.

This is He Xi's crime tool, a ring-shaped knife with a rotatable handle.

I think back to the beginning.

- "What exactly did you do?" ”

I asked her this, but she didn't pay any attention to my question. She leaned down slightly, picked up an ant from the ground, and raised it to eye height.

- "What's the difference?" ”

He Xi replied at that time, and then she showed me around her collection.

Yes, in her home.

The decorative style of the pink girl is incompatible with her. Her pink hair and turquoise eyes led me to a different door.

- "I told her I couldn't come, and she didn't come in. ”

I know what she's talking about.

Personalities can be completely independent of each other, and they can even talk to each other. But they can also influence each other, I think maybe this is the case with He Xi now, she knows what she did, but she doesn't know either.

- "This is His room, and I haven't been in it. ”

He?

Who is He?

- Who is he?!

I was so surprised at the time, and the truth seemed to be some distance from me.

It's just that now I'm playing with this strange knife, looking at the light through this round hole, and the slight astigmatism makes me a little dazed.

Maybe it's gone.

And here, too, there is a place for it.

In this dusty room, which no one cleaned or visited, there was a huge bookshelf.

Maybe it's just the storage shelves, one by one the compartments are staggered.

Some contain things, but many more are empty.

"This is your place."

I said softly, with a slight smile.

But I know it's not a smile, it's just a look of satisfaction.

No one notices that in the first three compartments, there are three delicate boxes. The silver frame was a little dazed in the warm light, and I gradually lost its silhouette, and I silently closed the door.

It's a room with no one.

It's a room where no one should be, and I'm just a puppet, or rather, restrained.

I forgot to take my medicine on this day, maybe I really did.

☆

The truth is not rosy.

The people from the neighborhood committee told me.

Her parents were very nice people originally.

Until that day.

July 4, 2006, her 5th birthday, was a dark day. At least for her.

No one could have imagined that the father who was proud outside was actually an addict. No one knows why, and no one knows this fact.

Her father was a businessman with a lot of capital, so even with such huge expenses, the family was not dragged down. Still, these hidden expenses eventually brought down the company.

The day of the declaration of bankruptcy was peaceful, and no one would have noticed that such an excellent father had been torn off his disguise.

Except for her and her mother.

Drugs made her father gentle and gentlemanly, but without such expensive drugs, violence and madness were the only characteristics of her father.

At only 5 years old, she was the only one to vent, and violence and uncontrollable harm were inflicted on her.

Despite this persecution, she still believes that her father can get better, and she feels that as long as she is obedient and endures, she will definitely be able to see his father's smile again. The successful man who puts on a tie and is proud every morning.

She felt that this was what she should do, but the pain was too much for her to bear, and although she wanted to persevere, it was only a child after all.

And her mother is trying to stop them, hoping to go back to the way they used to be one day.

But it didn't get better, and the imagined mildness didn't come back so easily. The father who is addicted to drugs cannot bear the burden of the family, and the busy mother cannot do her duty to protect her.

When they couldn't take it anymore, the last glimmer of light disappeared in their father's hands.

In the spring of the following year, the mother, who had proposed to separate the family, hugged her trembling, and the bruises on her body had not yet disappeared. Father was calm, he agreed, he was surprisingly calm, as if there were no things before.

But life isn't that rosy.

The truth is also always unforgiving.

The mother was tied up at home, and she didn't know what to do.

Her father's violence seemed to have eased, and perhaps her mother helped her endure it out of her sight, and she finally went to elementary school.

When the collector knocked on the door again, he brought in a policeman with a gun.

Her father jumped off the building.

But her suffering is not over.

When she was burned by cigarette butts, she suddenly realized that her mother, who had been protecting her before, had also contracted the nightmarish thing.

And it is more tyrannical, perhaps because of the eruption of those sufferings, which is more serious.

Until there is nothing left.

She couldn't forget her father's last smile, which was sunny that day, just like ever.

And this abuse was not discovered until the second year of junior high school.

A medical check-up that can't be avoided.

The mother was sent to a drug rehabilitation center, where her madness was finally locked up.

– but who will continue this journey?