The next day, the appointed time came, and Bai An also came to my house on time. Pen × fun × Pavilion www. ｂｉｑｕｇｅ。 info I took her to a slightly smaller room on the second floor. The conversation will be more formal, perhaps with a hint of embarrassment or a hint of nervousness, and she will look insecure. A smaller room will make the tension go away a little faster.

"So, Miss Bai, please relax, do you need something to drink?"

"It's okay to cool it off, thank you. Bai An was obviously very restrained.

"No problem. Handing Liang Baikai to her, I sat opposite her and said to her with a smile: "Miss Bai, you don't have to be so restrained, let's just talk casually first." ”

"Yes. She nodded quietly and said softly, "You can call me Bai An directly, or you can call me An An." ”

"So, An An, why do you have a crush on me? An An is not a name that a stranger like me who has only met twice can be called. I said to her, still smiling. A smile is a big language and weapon for psychiatrists.

Bai An thought for a while and said, "Maybe it's because your eyes are clearer, or maybe it's because we all like to wear white clothes." I'm a sensitive person, and I can quickly tell who's good for me. At this, her face turned red again, and her voice was like an ant.

I naturally know these reasons, and the reason why I asked her was to open the conversation, and secondly, to judge the degree of control she had over her psychology (psychology or psychology, she was good at her own psychological teeth). Her answer was good, but I felt a little uncomfortable - such a rational answer, coupled with her knowledge of psychology, was a bit tricky.

"Have you ever killed anyone?" I asked suddenly, coldly.

Bai An was stunned for a moment, then lowered his head and replied softly: "Yes." ”

At this time, I really felt that it was not good, it was not because she had killed someone, but it seemed that things were not so simple. In such a strange atmosphere, such an abrupt and tricky question, she only flickered for a moment, and then answered it clearly—you must know that she was still blushing a moment ago. It seems that her psychological quality is very strong.

Before I could ask any further, she continued to herself, "I never thought that I would trust you so much after we had only met twice. Since you're a psychiatrist, I should tell you everything. She slowly brushed a strand of black hair from her forehead behind her ear, still keeping her head down, and said reminiscingly: "I was eight years old and didn't live here yet. It was a dark city, and people killing people was life and entertainment. It was my happiest time before I was eight years old, and my parents loved me. ”

She obviously didn't want to reminisce too much about this part, whether it was the bits and pieces of happiness at that time or what happened later. Because both memories will torment her.

Especially the former.

She clenched her fists and got to the point without logic: "After I was eight years old, I don't know what happened. Now that I think about it, maybe my mother betrayed my father. In a fit of rage, my father killed my mother. And I, on the other hand, became the object of his torture. ”

She seemed to want to skip something again, and I interrupted her indifferently and said, "Please tell me, your father, how did he torture you?"

That's my style, and I'm sure she's not going to be overwhelmed just because she's saying it, that's human nature, because she's probably thinking about it every night. Even, she might laugh like crazy.

Really.

She suddenly shook violently, her face flushed abnormally, and she screamed loudly: "How did you torture me? I will never forget! Can you imagine him tying his daughter, who was only eight years old, into a ball and kicking her for a whole day and a night?! Can you imagine him tying his daughter to a pillar and burning my completely undeveloped body with a red-hot iron?!!!

She screamed frantically: "Can you imagine!hahahaha!!!!

Her last scream didn't look like a human sound. At this point, I also knew that her venting was at its peak, and she wouldn't say anything more—no matter how much I asked.

Sure enough, after she finished screaming, she first looked at me blankly, looked at my still normal expression and the pity in her eyes, and whispered: "After I killed him, I exchanged all my savings for a skin." Step wounded, I am not defiled..."

Looking at her slightly dazed eyes after screaming, I felt like I had to speed up my treatment. Because it is a symptom of compulsive self-forgetfulness and the beginning of the birth of a second personality.

Wouldn't it be good for her to forget about that and give birth to a second personality? Of course not. Regardless of whether the second personality will hurt herself, there is no doubt that she will become a complete madman. She would hurt anyone without restraint, probably all fathers. It would be an endless hell! I can't let that happen.

So I forcibly controlled my expression, without the slightest hint of anger or sympathy—that would only make her angry.

So my face was expressionless, only the eyes of pity were sincere.

She walked over slowly and hugged me gently.

I hugged her all the same, stroking her hair without any words. A faint scent of apples lingers in the small room.

The calm after madness is always sad.

I don't know how long later, she fell asleep in my arms.

I sat back at my desk and needed to think carefully about how I was going to do it. Obviously, she still has something to hide from me, not from my childhood, but from now, in the past few years. Because judging by her recent performance, it's normal. It's also suspicious because it's normal. For example: How has her stress and hatred been resolved over the years?

Everything has been thought out, and now I will answer the questions in your mind. You must be asking now: why does she trust strangers so much, why does she tell these secrets so smoothly that normal people would never say?

First question: Even if I say that Bai An is a normal person now, you won't believe it, right? Yes, this is a psychological disorder. That's the best way to put it. In fact, the heart of every madman is actually more fragile than anyone else.

They are crazy, but they are more vulnerable, more sensitive, more stubborn!

In other words, all normal people have hearts as hard as iron.

Including me.

On the other hand, Bai An, although she has a psychological disorder, she is not stupid. Her sensitivity can make her escape, but it can also make her obligatory.

Bai An has been scared for ten years, scared for ten years, lonely for ten years, and she has never met a psychiatrist, a psychiatrist who can give people a sense of security. She desperately needed a hug, one that would allow her to forget everything.

She's on the verge of an outburst, and when you've been suffering from your illness for a long, long time, and suddenly someone tells you that he can relieve your pain, and you know that this method will work, so you'll trust him?

In addition, not playing cards according to common sense is their strength.

I believe that there are people in this world who know nothing about a girlfriend who has been with her for a few years. And I got to know her, and I learned about such things. She also trusts me, to this extent. Isn't it strange to have feelings of dependence?

The second question: this question is the simplest: I put a little stimulant in the glass of water I gave her, and then I guided her. That's all.

What about my medical ethics?

My medical ethics are to try my best to find the root cause of their illness and pull them back from the brink of hell to the human world in a way that does not really hurt them.

If not, it would take a few years for Bai An to tell me this, five years, ten years, and in the meantime, would she give up hope because she no longer trusted the psychiatrist, and then explode?

I don't know, but I'll try to avoid it.

When it's time for me to be ruthless, I won't have the slightest emotion. Because it's for her good. It's like what she told me about making me angry, but instead of being angry, I should continue to find her subconscious outpouring when her emotions are at their most upset - such help is a qualitative change. I didn't even have time to think about the words of comfort for her.

This is my principle when I was working as a psychiatrist. But when I'm an ordinary person, I certainly don't waste brain cells.

Bai An woke up.

I'm going to give her the next dose of the pot. If you survive, you will be reborn, but if you can't survive, I have a way.