The wet gray and rainy weather continued for another full week.

It's a rainy day that you can't get used to.

I've thought about skipping class. But when I thought of my mother, who had just been discharged from the hospital, and her haggard demeanor, all my disgust with school was dissipated in an instant.

After all, family affection is the strongest relationship.

Over the past few days, I've figured things out somewhat.

Mother because I lost a daughter; I can't be as considerate of her as a girl, and I shouldn't be bothering her anymore.

At the very least, I can't let her get a call from the head teacher that I missed class without an excuse.

The front table and table seats are always empty.

In class, I always listen attentively to the teacher's explanations.

In the past, I felt that the knowledge points in the clouds were foggy, but now they have become transparent.

Maybe if you don't have more things in your heart, your mind will become smarter.

After class, I would go out into the hallway to get some air.

It's not so much breathable, but rather an escape from the hustle and bustle of the class.

The countdown to the college entrance examination oppresses our subconscious.

Because of this, as soon as class ended, my lovely classmates were desperately trying to get together in a pile to connect with each other.

It's like I'll never see my classmates again after graduation.

And as if their relationship was so deep.

In fact, after graduation, I scattered.

Anyway, they will be separated, and their feelings will fade anyway.

Why bother bothering to maintain this fragile lie?

In short, I'm too lazy to mix with their sticky youthful feelings.

The days are full and calm, and the nights are equally calm.

Now I have the whole spacious apartment to myself.

In the huge space, there is not the slightest trace of the second person.

The first thing I do when I get back from school every night is lock the door.

In fact, no matter which door I enter, I would be careful to lock the door behind me.

The enclosed, lonely space gives people a sense of security.

I trapped myself in the endless sea of college entrance examination questions, and often even forgot to solve the questions until late at night.

I can't tell whether I have suddenly become a five-three enthusiast who forgets to sleep and eat, or because I can't sleep...... Or dare not sleep.

Two weeks later, the head teacher actually talked to me.

She carefully pointed out that something seemed wrong with my recent form.

Indeed, my dark circles are like a national treasure, my complexion is as sallow as that of an African refugee, and I am listless in anyone's conversation.

The homeroom teacher thought that my assignments — every subject — were ridiculously correct and didn't seem to be the result of being done independently.

She also enlightened me earnestly that at this stage, I can't go down the "crooked road".

Usually, homework can be "borrowed" from others, but when it comes to exams, you can only play by yourself.

The meaning of the head teacher could not be clearer.

My throat was dry and I didn't know what to say.

When I got back to my apartment after school that day, I was stumbling to find the knife that had been hidden in the top cupboard.

It was tightly wrapped in oxford cloth and stuffed into the crevices of kitchen utensils.

I still have a dull pain in my left shoulder.

I slowly took the knife apart and stared at the sharp, shiny blade.

A knife without a single blemish.

Except for those in the know, no one could have imagined that it had pierced a person's shoulder blades and was soaked in blood.

What has happened can always be erased.

Sometimes the tool that is wiped out is a detergent; Sometimes it's time.

But when I returned to the bedroom and saw the camera at the head of the bed that had been distorted, I doubted the truth that I had managed to figure out.

On the matte synthetic plastic in the lower left corner of the monitor, there is an indistinct, abstract rust-colored imprint.

Traces that can't seem to be removed.

The camera, which has been completely scrapped, I don't know why it didn't end up in the trash, but instead became my private collection.

Probably there are still some things that even time can't be wasted.