She almost threw the mirror out, perhaps by mistake, she reassured herself, gasping for breath and looking again in confusion, it was still the wall.

"Do you think you're still alive?" A cold voice sounded abruptly behind him.

Like a frightened mouse, she threw the mirror on the floor at once, the crisp sound of glass shattering echoing throughout the attic as she turned her head violently.

Behind him was a vague figure, staggering in the air, like a hanged ghost, unable to see the face, but could detect the disdain and ridicule on its face.

"Who are you?" She asked, trembling, and took a step back, holding back her frantic heartbeat.

"I'm you, haven't you been waiting for me? Why be afraid? ”

"Are you me?" Her eyes widened, and for a moment she didn't understand the meaning of the sentence.

"Yes, I'm you, a ghost, a ghost who kills people without blinking." The figure said coldly.

"You talk nonsense, I'm alive, I'm not a ghost, I know hunger, I know fear." She tried to explain, trying to convince the female ghost and, more importantly, herself. But her heart was in turmoil, thinking of the blankness in the mirror, and the look on the faces of her father and brother when the window was opened that day, was it the fear that they had only seen themselves?

"Look at your wrist."

"Wrist?" She flipped it slightly, and at the tiger's mouth, a ring-shaped scar appeared in front of her eyes shockingly, and she quickly put it down: "How can this be?" ”

"Five days ago, you cut yourself, have you forgotten the wish you made?"

She closed her eyes, and an image suddenly appeared in her mind, which was the scene of her updating the novel late at night, when she was going to write a scene of ghost killing, but after revising it four or five times, she still couldn't write the feeling she needed, so she sighed to the computer, how nice it would be if she could see the real ghost killing people. Just a few seconds after her exclamation, the computer screen flickered like a spark, and a man's face appeared on it without warning, and she recalled what he had said at the time: 'As you wish, but if you want to get it, you must give it, and there will be no pie in the sky.' ’

"Remember? You killed yourself, you killed me! The figure rushed forward violently, like a soul seeking his life.

"Nope! Not me, I don't know what I did afterwards? She desperately stepped back, and kept explaining.

"Your wrist is the good you do!" The figure roared, the unsightly face clinging to her face, and a cold and piercing sensation instantly seeped into her bones, and she thought of more things.

She remembered that in order to write about that feeling, she took a knife and slashed it at the wrist, so much blood sprayed on her face, but she did not feel the slightest fear or pain, she only felt her body lighten a little, and gradually she seemed to float in the clouds, overlooking the whole city.

So she saw an attic, a boy cautiously entering and searching for something, and the next thing was the picture on the first video she received, but she saw something different, the figure that was not in the image was the black shadow in front of her who claimed to be herself.

"You killed the person, not me." She couldn't believe the qiē in front of her, and her head shook like a rattle.

"I told you, I'm you." On the face of the black shadow, the hazy veil faded little by little, revealing a face, a face she knew all too well, her own face.

"How so?" She froze, it was obviously herself, but an evil smile was blooming on that face, and her eyes were full of sinister looks.

"I'm the illusion of your hope, our hands are already covered with blood, don't stop anymore, finish that book, isn't this what you desire?"

"No!" She yelled, "It's just your wish, I just want to see, I don't want to hurt anyone, you're not me, you're a demon, yes, you're a demon." She jumped to her feet and ran outside.

"Hehe, that's a very good word, in that case, you don't have the value of saving zài." The figure stuck to her back like a maggot attached to the bone, penetrating into it little by little, gradually occupying her heart and brain, she stopped abruptly while running, her head turned weirdly on her neck three hundred and sixty degrees, and then shook a few times from side to side, after a snapping sound of bone friction, she walked back, sat in front of the computer, clicked on a game website at random, an IP address appeared, and the complete information of a player appeared in her mind.

"Another underage child." A bloody red glow flashed in her pupils, and the next moment she disappeared in place.

Next to her disappearing computer, a copy of the hospitalized medical record was blown away by the gloomy wind of her departure, which clearly read, 'Xia Xue, female, eighteen years old, schizophrenia, photoallergy. ’

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