man, he looks ugly

I am sick.

The doctor said I was very sick, but I just felt tired.

Like a long-distance traveler, the exhaustion of falling in the sand, like a girl who had a big dream, and the weakness when waking up from the dream, or in other words, like a serious illness.

I began to be inexplicably afraid of light and dark shadows. This fear came from the lack of my own soul and I couldn't resist it.

Mrs. Geary was beside me, holding my hand.

When the doctor said there was nothing he could do, she was still by my bedside.

After experiencing the inexplicable high fever after the death of Al Bing when she was a child, she has become much stronger. She understands that I will never leave her alone in this world.

Christine, who became famous at the farewell party, this star swaying into the sky, but declined all invitations and appearances, she hoped to stay by my side.

"Mom, if Meg can't be by my side, I won't have the courage to sing even if I go on stage."

she says.

I lay on the bed, feeling my own body dullly, raised my fingers, opened my lips, and exhaled the waste air in my chest.

How long will it take for me to come back alive?

Eric was never in front of me... he couldn't be in front of me.

Mrs. Geary and Christine were with me day and night.

They couldn't help stretching out their hands to test my breathing, for fear that it might stop unconsciously.

In fact... I know what they are doing. I can hear the topics they are talking about, the tone of their voices, and the emotions they contain, but I just don't have the strength to respond to them.

Letters of paper were sent in through the crack of the door like flowing water.

Mrs. Geary put them away and locked them in the corner cabinet by the door.

The rain fell drop by drop from the edge of the eaves, and the sky took on a damp and gray hue. With the increase of light in the air, it gradually changed to the soft lavender color before the rain, and another layer of dark clouds full of rain left the city of Paris.The noise on the street resumed like a tide, and the water droplets covering the glass windows gradually shattered.

Christine, who had stayed up all night in a row, fell asleep lying on the edge of the bed, her slender shoulders piled up at the corner of the quilt, and there were small wrinkles on her brow.

She was unconscious when I climbed out of bed.

Everything around me was desperately trying to escape from me. I stood on the ground for a long time before I remembered that I was going to get the cloak, go outside the door, and meet the lonely soul wandering in the corridor.

It was still too early. At this time, the sober drunk hadn't got up from the street, and the robin hadn't woken up to sing, and even the corridor was filled with a thin layer of water vapor, with the light after being over-shaded of gray.

Eric gradually emerged from this gloom, like a disembodied ghost.

"Meg, my Meg, my poor girl." The voice behind the mask cried out my name.

"You shouldn't have come for me, Eric." I sat in the corner of the corridor, huddled in a triangle of shadows, away from the light.

Eric was also standing in the shadows, he seemed thinner, he stood up straight, his lips were drawn into a straight line, his golden brown hair fell to his shoulders, and he didn't move after I said I would trim his hair Passing them, it somewhat spoils his image of being fastidious and tidy in the past, and just as he has always paid too much attention to his own appearance, he is also too demanding of the people in the whole theater.

"You should rest..."

"No... I can't escape anymore. Eric, you must stop everything you do now. This theater belongs to everyone. It is not your playground. It is not, it is not what you designed. Those murder palaces or torture chamber."

The condensed breath in my chest from time to time made me unable to stop pausing, but I finally finished my sentence.

"You went to find the Persians again." Eric seemed to have become timid and cautious, he was silent for a while, lowered his eyelids, and stared at the ground.

"This theater is my memory after I was six years old. I used to feel that I didn't like it at all, I didn't like the people here, I didn't like the things here, and Christine, but we all knew that this was our theater. Life, our life, from the ballet classroom to the stage, from the stage to the dressing room, a waltz-like cycle..." The crazy consumption of energy made me feel sleepy, and I even opened my eyelids to say something to Eric. Without any strength, he could only let himself be immersed in that comfortable darkness.

Human beings come from darkness, so they sleep at night like this.

"I'm trying to dedicate the theater to you." He mustered up the courage to speak again.

"Eric, you see, my expression is always so poor, I repeat it over and over again in trivial and useless language, I don't know how to break your rules, before, I lived a boring life, and you broke in, used your silver The sword shattered them and took me through unprecedented passion and dreams, but we all overlooked one thing, this theater does not belong to anyone, nor will it be restrained by any force, let alone be bound by selfishness .”

"It's just a small accident. When people want to get something, they have to conquer it with wisdom and skill." Eric is sensitively aware of the disasters that cannot be avoided by manpower at certain moments, and it is futile to distinguish.

"Your disguise failed! Eric!" The voice blurted out, and even I myself was frightened by this miraculous power. In order not to let myself fall into weakness again, I quickly continued, "Whether you No matter how exquisite a mask you put on yourself, you can’t hide your heart. There are devils living in your heart, and your soul is polluted. With those high-sounding excuses, you can vent your inner horror, which is more terrible than death.”

"Is this what I want? Is it what I want?!" Eric growled violently, "Cursed from birth, possessed by demons, is it that I am still an ignorant, small, incorporeal Can I choose my soul? This world has never given me a sympathy, they have never accepted me, if I want to get something, I have to use my own strength to get it! Never expect this world to give me mercy! "

"So, you slaughter wantonly without any bottom line! Your heart is colder and harder than stone!"

"That's what he asked for!"

Omg...what the hell am I expecting?Expect a guy who has fallen into hell, with a repentant heart.

Beside him, the wandering soul groaned in pain, and right above him, the demon roared wantonly.

How could I be blinded by that delicate curtain, forgetting the boundary between life and death, light and darkness.

"Eric, I've never been so scared of you."

I looked at him as if I was looking at myself.

A ray of sunlight smashed through the mist in the corridor, casting a clear boundary on the floor, and countless fine dust particles that were difficult to distinguish were rolling, boiling, and falling hoarsely in the sunlight.

Standing in the dark, as humble as we are, we don't even have the strength to cross a small river of light.

His eyes were deathly sad, as if they were about to shed tears, but he just looked at me quietly with those golden eyes that had nowhere to hide.

It must have broken his heart that his little girl, the little girl for whom he made the violin, said she was afraid of him.

This is really a harsh and painful statement.

Eric turned around, his chin lifted slightly, as indifferent and proud as when he first met.

"You will be more afraid of me, but this is your fate."

The huge black cloak stretched out like the wings of a demon, and then disappeared into the mist.

The author has something to say: I will be going out in the next few days, so... the update will be unstable. If it is not updated at twelve o'clock every night, it will not be updated.No matter what, there will still be [-] more next week, make a fist!