[I have tried to think of countless endings, if my adoptive mother had not gone to the lake in the first place; Or maybe we didn't live here, but my adoptive parents asked me for advice on whether I would like to live in the city or return to the countryside, but I chose the latter; What's more, I am the one who went down to the lake; Or maybe I didn't follow them out of the orphanage in the first place; Maybe the person they adopted wasn't me...... However, when I stepped through the doors of the orphanage, there was no turning back.

Fear eventually led me to lose my true nature, and I couldn't believe that I had endured the endless torment for a year, until the injuries in the deep imprint had scarred. My adoptive father had to lock me in the attic in order to prevent his crimes from being exposed, as if the purpose of his life was to torture me as much as he could, and to make me miserable as if it would make him feel at ease, but he did not know that even if I suffered greatly, my adoptive mother would never come back to life.

To tell you the truth, I have dreamed more than once of my deceased adoptive mother, in which she cried even more sad and lost than me, and tears soaked her soul! Tell me that I must escape from the clutches, but how can I be his enemy when I am young. One morning, perhaps God had mercy on me, and he had not beaten me in the middle of the night, so I could barely stand up straight, in that cramped room, cleaning my old wounds.

Looking at the haggard face in the mirror, I took off my coat, and the tattoos on my chest and arms covered most of the scars, which expanded as I grew. It's not the first time I've looked at my weird self in the mirror, and I've always felt that the tattooed boy in front of me is braver than I am.

"What the hell am I supposed to do? How can I escape from his perverted killing, the people in the village are leaving one by one, who should I seek help from. "Faced with the old mirror, I couldn't help myself. I think my adoptive father is a stranger, not because he abused me, or because his temperament changed greatly because of the death of his wife, but in short, he seems to have changed from his bones, a person who hates me very much, and wants to cut my heart and bones.

"Do you want to live?" The man in the mirror said to me, like I was babbling gibberish, but my brain was clear.

"Yes, of course I do, of course I want to live." I nodded urgently.

"Then kill him, only by killing him can you live." The cold and heartless words made me feel strange.

"Kill him?" I asked, surprised, nervous as my already healing wound tore again.

"Yes, kill him, this is your only way, no one can save you, you can only rely on yourself." It seems that in the mirror, my expression is very determined.

"But, he, he's my adoptive father, I, I can't ......" Maybe there are too many emotions under the screen, which makes me unable to extricate myself, and makes me still believe that he can change his mind.

"But he's going to kill you!" The look of anger on my face in the mirror made my heartstrings tense. "He will not show mercy, he will cut off your flesh inch by inch, let you cry and beg, scream in pain, and he will torture you even more frantically! Until you are dying and dying, he will not show mercy. When your consciousness dissipates and you close your eyes, he will spur your corpse until the flesh is flying and the bones are gone! ”

"Enough, enough, don't, don't say it." I cried bitterly, fear rushing into my brain, disorienting me, wiping tears from the corners of my eyes, and I slammed out the door, the oppression that had gathered in the room and left me breathless.

Wandering in the corridor of the attic, the door at the entrance of the staircase was shackled by him, I waited in front of the iron bar, there was not a sound in the room, he went out again, I don't know what to do, he has been traveling more and more often lately. I had to find a way to get out, and this was the only chance I could get out of the house and walk all the way out of the swamp along the trail back to the mountains, through the dark reeds. During this time, it had not rained in the mountains, the scorching sun was shining, the loose mud must have been dried, and the weight of a child must have been able to survive safely. After crossing the swamp and following the direction down the hill, in less than two hours I will be able to set foot on the road, and if I am lucky, I will meet the passing traffic, and I will be able to leave this land of death before dark.

I decided that I must take a risk, perhaps out of the desire to survive, and when I stood at the window on the second floor, I was not afraid by the huge height difference, and I carried in my arms a medical medal that my adoptive mother had given me before her death, which was passed down to me by her mother, and hoped that I would become a doctor in the future. Immediately on the inside of the platform on the top floor, the rubble rattled beneath my feet, but fortunately he hadn't come back yet, otherwise he would have noticed. Along the unclogging pipe outside the patio cistern, I slid down with it in my arms. The actual operation was far more complicated and arduous than I imagined, the skin of my palms was broken by friction, and the pain made my palms weak, and I fell from a height of nearly two meters and fell heavily in the grass in the backyard.

The wound on my back must have cracked again, the back of my T-shirt was sticky, the blood must have soaked through my clothes, I curled up in the weeds in the backyard, looking around, and the shadows of the trees swaying in the breeze made me tremble, afraid that the vicious face would suddenly appear in front of me, and then pull me at me for another atrocity. Wheezing, I identified the direction of the trail behind the mountain, and scurried in, only the moving branches and leaves recorded the scene.

Along the way, I didn't dare to look back, I didn't know if he was chasing after me, I just wanted to escape from the terrible plague as soon as possible, the shade of the trees flickered in my eyes, the dead branches and wild grass slipped sideways between my thighs, making a veil sound, and as I gasped violently, the house sitting in front of me on the left slowed me down the pace of flight.

Perhaps it would be better to call for help, and they would call the police on my behalf and send me back to the happy castle (orphanage) where I used to be, in case I had an accident in the swamp or slipped down the hill with terrible consequences. So I made the improvised decision to lurk outside the barricade, look at the hidden gate, choke my dry throat, and rush in a moment later.

"Bang!" I pushed the door in, and just as I was about to open my mouth to cry for help, I was choked by a sudden fishy smell, and I couldn't help but retreat again. Oh my God, what's this, what does this smell like? Covering my nose, I scanned the empty house, which was a mess of furnishings, with broken vases and wine cabinets scattered all over the floor, and even the coffee table in the center of the living room overturned. Just as I was speculating about the aftermath of the disaster, there was a muffled sound in the corridor of the back room, similar to the sound of a tough weapon crashing.

"Bang!" This terrifying and strange sound came one after another, each blow could make my heartstrings tremble, and finally curiosity and luck made me, covering my nose, and took a step towards the house. (To be continued.) )