She's dead.

Died in an abandoned playground, died that night, died in the rain.

She stood in front of her own corpse, her eyes as indifferent as if she were looking at a stranger.

After a long time, she squatted down and hugged her cold self.

It's a pity that I can't cry.

The weather in May was already very hot, and many people on the road were dressed coolly, holding parasols, but she wrapped herself very thickly, like winter, like a stranger.

She hadn't been to class for a long time, and no one noticed her when she walked into the classroom, everyone was laughing, chatting and playing, and she was the only one sitting in the corner.

Idle. It's her favorite thing to do when she's in class.

I can sleep at home, but I can't sleep here.

No, that's not home.

She laughed self-deprecatingly at the stupid idea she had just had.

Then the desk in front of him was slapped heavily by the teacher with a ring ruler, making a very loud sound.

Only then did she withdraw her gaze from the window, lowered her head, and quietly gritted her teeth.

She couldn't see what kind of face those people were looking at her now, but she could guess that it must be disdainful, disgusted, like garbage.

That's right, garbage.

When I went to the toilet, I was blocked by other girls in a narrow space and splashed with cold water, when I was in physical education class, I was deliberately hit on the head by boys with a ball, and when the test results came out, I was called to the office by the teacher to reprimand and beat me.

Everyone was scolding her for being useless, no different from garbage.

She laughed herself, yes, it's useless, it's just garbage.

What's the point of living like this?

She didn't know. I can't remember how long it was, but her parents hadn't divorced, the playground she frequented hadn't gone out of business, and she was still living like a little princess.

Her parents doted on her and always took her out to play, her teachers liked her very much, praised her for being smart and cute, and her peers around her were willing to be friends with her.

But that's a thing of the past.

The only thing she remembered was that it had rained heavily that night, and there was thunder outside, and she was so scared that she hugged her little pillow and wanted to go to sleep with her parents, but as soon as she walked out of the room, she heard her mother's hysterical scolding.

Then she saw her father dragging his suitcase out of the opposite room.

"Dad. She called out a little.

Dad squatted down and touched her head, kissed her forehead, and said, "Goodbye, baby." ”

She subconsciously pulled her father's hand, but she didn't hold it.

She just stood there in a daze, watching her dad turn around, watching her dad go downstairs, watching him walk out of the house.

By the time she screamed and chased out, Dad was gone.

Holding a black umbrella, he didn't look back.

It didn't take long for her mother to take her to remarry, and then her mother and stepfather had a son. After the birth of her half-brother, she was spoiled by them and lawless.

And she is no longer anyone's baby.

She heard her stepfather complain more than once that she was a drag bottle, and her mother was silent, as if she was acquiescing.

The younger brother didn't like her, and the more he grew up, the more he thought of ways to bully her, and instead of being stopped, this behavior was intensified by their acquiescence.

In this so-called home, she is like a superfluous existence.

She wanted to ask her mother a long time ago why she took her away if she didn't love her.

But then she figured it out, because her mother was still young at that time, in order to fight for a breath, in order not to let custody fall into the hands of her father, and in order to make her father regret and sad.

But Dad won't be coming back. He really left.

And after that, she really doesn't have any value.

The first time she wanted to commit suicide was after her brother tore up her homework book, she couldn't go to her mother to complain, and she was afraid of being scolded by the teacher the next day, so she found a knife that night and wanted to do it. But in the end, she just cut her fingers, looked at the spilled blood, and covered her mouth and cried silently.

With one there will be two, three, and more times.

The scars on her body are getting more and more, and she can withstand the pain of a sharp weapon cutting through her flesh, but she doesn't have enough courage to face death.

She also began to dress more and more, covering her wounds with thick clothing, unwilling to expose them to others.

She has become more and more a monster in everyone's eyes.

She skipped class that day and finally couldn't resist going to the hospital.

She knew she was sick. And seriously.

She went up to the fifth floor, and the choking smell of medicine filled her nostrils all at once, but the rooms on either side were eerily quiet.

As she made her way through the long hallway to the end of the corner, she saw a man sitting in the corner.

It's a girl, about her age.

The girl looked up at her when she heard the footsteps, and smiled at her.

But her heart chuckled instantly.

Her gaze moved downward, and in addition to the blood on the corner of her mouth, the girl had a long, deep wound on her wrist.

No, it's not just that.

She saw that the girl was covered in blood, and the ground was also covered in blood, and her eyes were a bright red, like a large blood-colored rose blooming.

Nope-

Her heart was screaming wildly, but she didn't make any sound.

She just ran away as fast as she could. It rained heavily at night and she didn't come home.

She went to the playground she used to go to as a child, which had been abandoned for a long time, and all the facilities were rusty and dilapidated.

Like her memories, they are falling apart day by day.

She sat on the edge of the slide with her hands and knees, shivering with cold, but she kept biting her lower lip and finally fell into a long dream.

It's a rare good night's sleep.

She dreamed that she was dead.

When I woke up the next day, the sky was clear, and the bright sun was particularly dazzling.

She thought back to the dream she had had last night.

If only that dream could go on forever. She thought so.

The clothes on her body were still wet, but she felt extra warm today.

As soon as I got home, I saw my mother sitting on the sofa, and my mother yelled at her: "Where did you go crazy last night, you little rabbit cub!

She didn't answer, just silently went back to her room.

"Meow. A cat meow came from the corner of the bed.

She walked over and picked up the white kitten, and the kitten immediately rubbed its head in her arms.

It's a stray cat that she picked up for a long time and didn't have a name.

Her favorite thing to do is to apply all kinds of paint to the kitten, which is obviously bright and bright, and finally all of them are dyed black.

The kitten never rebelled against her, nor did she leave her, and they slept in each other for countless nights.

But the kitten was kept in her room all the time, like a captivity.

All she had left was a kitten.

This time, though, she quickly let go of the kitten and said, "You're free." ”

I'm not going to lock you up anymore.

I'll let you go.

You're free.

When I was a child, I thought that I could touch the sky on my tiptoes, but when I grew up, I realized that it was unrealistic.

But she raised the corners of her mouth slightly, and the corners of her clothes were blown up by the wind.

It's almost there.

She was about to touch the flawless blue.

The pedestrians below stopped to watch, and she stood on the top of the building with her hands outstretched.

She closed her eyes.

Then take a leap.

Birds like to be with the clouds, so let her be a breeze.

Able to go farther.

The living room was brightly lit, and a man and a woman were chatting happily.

The young boy pushed open his sister's door, cautiously entered, and turned on the light, fixing his gaze on the vase on the windowsill.

There's a bouquet of roses in there. Vibrant. Blood-beautiful.

He's liked it for a long time, and this time he can finally get it while his sister is away.

But as he walked over, a white cat suddenly pounced.

Caught off guard, he was scratched in the face by the cat, and in a panic he reached out and waved.

When I opened my eyes again, the rose and the cat were gone.

He cursed, then cleaned up the fragments of the vase from the windowsill.

Close the door again.

It's dark.

And the kitten that fell from the sky and the rose lay together.

Rot.

Extra:

I'm a stray cat.

My former owner was very fond of me, but he was old and his son didn't support him having a cat.

On the morning of leaving, the former owner gave me a bath, carried me to the small park he frequented, sat on the bench and said a lot to me.

He said that his son was a very good child when he was a child, but when he grew up, he changed.

He said that his son had never received a mother's love since he was a child. He felt guilty.

I looked at the wrinkles on his face, unable to speak, just buried my head in his chest and rubbed and rubbed.

Finally, he put me on the ground, and a man turned around and walked away with a cane.

The pace was slow, but he didn't look back.

The last thing he said to me was:

"I'm going home to spend time with my son, so you can find someone to accompany you. ”

But I couldn't find anyone to accompany me.

Whatever happened in the past, I'm just a stray cat now.

When I see someone leading their pet across the street, I look at them with envy.

I used to be pampered, too.

But those days are over.

Looking down at my own dirty body, I suddenly had a feeling of disgust for myself.

It's been a long time since I've taken a bath and I'm a dirty cat.

The white hairs that once made me proud were also full of filth.

How can I be liked by people again?

There was a rain in the sky at night. Heavy rain.

I walked down the street, wagging my head and tail at times, trying to wash myself away from the rain.

It was also at that time that I met a girl.

Dressed thickly, leaning under a tree, as if shivering.

The previous owner said that if you stand under a tree on a rainy day, it will be fatal.

I'm a good, good-natured cat.

So I walked over to remind her.

But I couldn't speak, so I had to meow twice, and then pull her trouser leg with my paws.

She crouched down and touched my head, then sat down on the floor.

The ground is so dirty. She doesn't have an umbrella yet.

I think this guy is really stupid, what if he is really unlucky for a while.

She's going to die.

I'm not stupid when she's stupid, I still want to live well and find the next master who is good to me.

Just as I was about to leave, she picked me up, and my first reaction was to meow and want to resist, but she ignored me, just hugged me tighter and tighter, so that I couldn't struggle.

Her clothes were still wet, but for some reason, I listened to her heartbeat like that, and I felt my body gradually warm.

It's very uncompromising.

It's been a long time since I've been held, and not only did it not take long for me to obey her, but I fell asleep like that.

When I woke up again, I was locked in a room with the doors and windows closed, without a glimmer of light.

I couldn't even tell if it was night or day, except that it was horribly dark and empty.

I couldn't escape, so I had to huddle in a corner, silently reassuring myself that I would be fine.

It wasn't until I heard the sound of the door opening and a beam of light shining in from the outside that I quickly stood up straight and ran away. I want to rush out and escape from this place.

But it backfired.

Before I could run out, the door was closed again.

Someone crouched down and hugged me.

My gut told me it was the girl. She's the one who kept me here.

I was so angry that I screamed loudly and tore her clothes with my paws, but she didn't do anything.

I also scratched her face, probably bleeding, and I felt a slimy feeling on my paws.

But she still didn't want to let me go.

Yes, I was in captivity.

If I had known that there would be such a day, I would not have been kind at all. Good cats are not rewarded.

But after that day, I never resisted her.

I began to learn to be obedient, to be coquettish in her arms, to please her and to be pampered.

She was very useful, she would carry me to sleep at night, she would bring me delicious food, and she would say over and over again not to leave her.

Her favorite thing to do is to clean me up and paint me with all kinds of paints, mix and match them together, and dye me all black.

Then she would look at me as if she were admiring a peerless treasure and laugh lowly.

As if what a pleasant thing it was.

But I'm not happy. I hate her for doing that. My pure and flawless white hair is what I am most proud of.

But I still didn't resist and kept following her wishes.

These days are short, I tell myself.

Even if no one wants me anymore, I'm going to get out of here, at least then I'll be free.

She's very unpopular at home, which is something I've summed up after so much time.

Her stepfather didn't like her, and when she was in school, he often told her mother that she was a burden, and I could imagine the look of disgust and disgust across the door.

I hadn't met her mother, but I knew that her mother must have no affection for her, otherwise why would she never defend half a sentence for her?

By the way, she also has a younger brother. Half-brother.

Her brother often came into the room to make trouble, and she endured it silently every time, I hid under the bed and couldn't see her expression clearly, but I could always hear her brother's innocent tone say: "I am the only child in the family, and my parents love me the most." ”

Yes, she is superfluous in this family.

Slowly, I began to feel sorry for this girl. But I didn't give up on running away.

She had no one to love, and neither did I.

But I want to be free.

The invincible little prince

The invincible little prince