REMIX

I am interested in learning, but I forgot to get rid of the problem of fighting.

I thought it was just one way to solve the problem, not the only way, but definitely the one that was easiest to get pleasure from.Only when I grew up did I understand that violence makes people happy, mainly because it is direct, simple, and does not rely on skills, and the result of defeating a person with fists and kicks is also the most intuitive, so people prohibit violence while enjoying the occasional pleasure it brings. comfort.

To be honest, the street I live in is not peaceful. As a gathering place for the lower class, it is a breeding ground for all cheap enthusiasm and humble ugliness.Apart from everyone’s disgraceful daily life, of course, it is also full of activities that cannot be brought to the table. I have lived in such an environment since I was a child, and I am not qualified to pity and hold grudges.

The man who lives downstairs is an alcoholic.

We share a living room with him in the attic where we rented. The narrow storage room and the messy living room are places I must pass through every day. Sometimes he sits on the sofa and wanders, with old clothes and lunch boxes piled up beside him. The piece was several days old, smelling sour from fermentation, half asleep, sunken eyes filled with wet alcohol.

When he stared at people, he couldn't take his eyes off, his eyes were more white than his pupils, and his eyes were full of hatred.I go to and from school every day, and I rarely have the opportunity to meet his eyes. I choose to bypass the area that is considered a plague zone in front of him.

In fact, there is no boundary between "fear" and "disgust" in my heart, because the only time we had a confrontation was when I opened the door after school and saw him trying to rape Xia Jie.

The twisted posture of the body was beyond my comprehension at the time, and my mind was blank. The blankness is indescribable, so I couldn't even think instinctively.

When I realized it, I had already pounced on him and pulled his collar, picked up a sticky fruit knife from the table and inserted it into the palm of his hand. The feeling of the sharp blade cutting into the human body made me shudder, but I never let go.

The tip of the knife was on the tea table, and the blood flowed down the table legs. Then he let go of Xia Jie and kicked me.

I fell to the ground, got up again, supported my mother and stood aside, my unexpected heartbeat was still very slow, watching her tidy up the messed up clothes, my lips were broken by teeth, and I spit on the ground mixed with blood .

I opened my mouth and gasped.

She laughed and hugged me tightly. "The landlord is coming soon, you son of a bitch."

The man whose name I don't even know pulled out the bloody knife and threw it on the ground. I didn't pick it up because the outer door opened.

The light that was supposed to be open was blocked by a group of people. I saw that the young man who appeared there had short fluffy hair mixed with some light blond hair, which hung thickly above his eyebrows and eyes. He was wearing a black uniform with a stand-up collar. Putting it in my pocket, reminds me of some Japanese TV dramas that gave me a bad impression.

He hooked his back and ate a lollipop, his cheeks were drawn inward, and his neck was tilted to one side.

"Surname Zhao?"

He asked the man whose hands were still bleeding.The man's forehead was throbbing with blue veins, and for the first time there was a sign of sobriety on his face. "ah……"

He turned his head and looked at Xia Jie and me again, without any subjective color in his eyes, Xia Jie patted me and asked me to go back to the attic.I picked up the scattered stationery and books from the ground, and suddenly a group of people rushed in and held down the person surnamed Zhao. I shrank my hands in fright, and pulled out the homework book from under a person's leather shoes, half of the cover was stepped on Footprints, he also squatted down at this moment, holding my gray schoolbag in his hand, a shoulder strap swaying empty.

His eyes won't let me go.

"How old are you?" He asked me with a smile, his arms crossed across his knees, his mouth parted in a small grin.

"Ten years old." I said.

"Knowing how to protect your mother at a young age is promising." He stood up and put one hand on my head. I found that the way adults caressed me was exactly the same. His palm was warm and as gentle as his voice.

Then he said to the people outside the door in that warm and rising voice, "Put him in the trunk and don't let him shout."

The group of people also answered him in a neat and humble voice, "Yes, Brother Ye."

I guess his surname is Ye.

But I guessed wrong.

For quite a long period of time, I couldn't correctly call that person's name, he never came here again, and I never saw the black uniform that was incompatible with this place again.My mother called him Mr. Landlord, and there may be other identities that I can't understand. He looks a few years younger than her, and he doesn't fit this title that represents status.

I know that the world is so big, but everyone cannot live completely fairly.I ran to school in my ill-fitting school uniform, kicked stones home in the evening, and tried not to ask Xia Jie for toys that we probably couldn't afford, even though I really wanted them.I have seen cleaners and couples who go out early and come back late, women who take care of disabled husbands and children alone, noodle stall owners who don’t have a day off for a year, they are engaged in all kinds of jobs that are not decent, hunched over in this dirty place. Crawling forward hard on the Xixi old street, sometimes I stop and call my name across the high counter, I will stop the pen for homework, step on the small bench and lean out to greet them, from them He took the extravagant money in rough and cracked hands, and handed them a bottle of yogurt, an apple, and a bad fast food.When they smiled because of this little bit of happiness, the joy and satisfaction they tried to express revealed a bitter fragrance.

But they often laugh and rarely cry.

Because we are living in the most ugly posture, we will forget the pain, pride and shame.

——Forget that there is a paradise in this world that we can't touch.