[Bottle Evil Colleague] Ink Dawn

I've spent at least three rounds of hopeless days and nights in this wet, dirty place.

It was really cold, and I tried my best to warm up the surroundings.

The only good news is that Poker Ping and I are not separated, but we are currently unable to communicate.

In fact, right now I can't move at all.And since three days ago, Poker-Face has been unable to make even the slightest sound, and has completely "bored" down.I wanted to repent why I gave him that nickname before, it was like a curse, but later I found it uncomfortable to think about it, so I could only force myself to stop and let go.

three days ago.

I woke up under the pressure of piles of rocks.

It is daytime outside.

After the whole mountain collapsed, my head and upper body were fortunately caught in a deep crevice. When I looked up, I could see the sunlight seeping through the crevice.

I was crooked and pressed under the rock pile on one side of the crack, and the huge rock closest to me pressed hard on my left shoulder.From the slanted line of my left shoulder down to my feet, I have never been conscious since I woke up. No matter how desperately I move and struggle, only my right hand can move and exert force. I can’t crawl out at all, and I am completely trapped.

I wondered if the part of the limb under the rock had been severely disabled, but now I didn't care about it, and I started looking for the oil bottle with the poor light.

Unexpectedly, the search process was not as difficult as I imagined. I just turned my head slightly and found him under the rock wall on the other side.

Poker Bottle was not as lucky as me. When I found him, his whole body was crushed under the layered rocks, and even the most vulnerable head was buried deep in the rocks and rubble. Only half of his arm was exposed, gray and white. Blue and lifeless.

"Bro?"

I called him hoarsely, but there was no response.

I didn't give up, tried my best to amplify my voice, and continued to call him:

"Bro!"

Another frighteningly quiet few seconds passed, and my heart sank gradually.But suddenly, I saw the tip of Poker's right finger not far from me move a few times without warning.

I hurriedly stretched my right hand to touch his, my arm was not long enough, my fingertips could only touch the second knuckle of his oddly long fingers on his right hand.

But that's enough.I fiddled with his fingertips twice, feeling his silent response, and for some reason, couldn't help laughing.

While I know the coming end will be another brutal parting, at least for now he's alive - and that's enough to keep me happy for a while.

"Brother, can you hear me? Fatty and the others should be here soon, hold on!"

"..."

Of course, I think he also understands that this is self-deception. The soil of this mountain is too loose. If Fatty and the others dig from the outside, the bearing point will definitely be near the gap, and it will only dig more and more until it is sealed.All the instruments on my body that could confirm the coordinates were all shattered, and the watch on my wrist did not go away. It is impossible for the fat man to find our exact location.If they're unlucky, they'll bury us alive with their own hands.Therefore, we who have lost the ability to act will not be able to wait for rescue.

"Brother, you are seriously injured, please sleep a little longer."

"..."

Poker bottle may have injured the vocal cords or was too weak after a serious injury to make a sound.

I waited for a while, and suddenly there was an itchy feeling on my hand. It was Poker Face who was writing something with his fingertips.He seemed to be struggling even to move his fingers, and wrote slowly and intermittently.

I calmed down and guessed, and found that it was two words:

"What about you?"

I froze for a moment, then smiled and scratched his fingertips, and said: "It's okay, I'm lucky, there is a crack here, and the sun can still be seen, but I can't find a way out for the time being."

Poker-face paused for a while, and wrote:

"come over."

I thought to myself, sure enough, trying to trick Poker Ping, who has survived serious injuries and is still as sharp as ever, is just a dream, so I can only confess: "My right leg is pinned down, I don't feel anything, and I can't move for a while."

He gathered his strength, moved his fingers, wrote a "you", and crossed the side of "you", but stopped writing again, I guess it was a "right".

I knew what he wanted to express, so I squeezed the tip of his index finger, telling him not to think too much, and to rest quickly.

In fact, no one can blame this matter, we have tried our best to fight for it, but this matter seems to be unsolvable from the beginning, just like you are born as a human, but you want to conquer the blue sky without any tools Same.

But seeing Boyouping like this makes me feel bad, because maybe I should be the one to apologize.

Indeed, when I get to this point of death, I will also ask myself, whether I have lived up to Poker's expectations all this time.

If I hadn't insisted on going my own way, Poker Bottle is still in the door, even if he would die, but he left with the thought that "Wu Xie is still living in a safe place in this world".But now, I gave him hope and took him out to live a so-called good life for a few days, but don't forget that at the same time, I cruelly put him under more pressure, and finally brought him He fell into a dead end, giving him overwhelming despair.

As Zhang Qiling, he died at the end, although it meant that he failed to resist his own destiny, but at least he bought the outside world and the most important people in the outside world for ten years of stability.But now, he was crushed in the ruins, and I fell beside him. All I can do is wait for death, and even the world will perish because of our fault.Would he...would he feel that such a death was meaningless?

To go one's own way is, to put it harshly, selfish.It was because I wanted to see him again day and night, and I was unwilling to continue on the path he left behind, so I dragged him out regardless of the consequences, and endured all the troubles I asked for.

To be honest, I don’t care if this world can continue to exist. So many innocent people will die. I don’t care anymore. They can hate me if they want to. I had nothing to lose, and they couldn't make me suffer any more, so there was nothing to be afraid of.

What I am most afraid of is that the self-righteous rescue I used to save him was actually harming him in another way-that would be too sad, I would rather die on Changbai Mountain because of snow blindness.

So seeing him like this now, all I'm left with is helplessness and deep-seated discomfort.

Unfortunately, no matter what I think now, it is of no avail.

Later, Poker Fing's hands stopped moving. Maybe he was too tired to force himself to rest, or maybe he couldn't hold on to the injury and passed out.I didn't bother him, and stared blankly at the ray of sunlight penetrating through the cracks in the rock.

When I think about it, my life really wasn't too bad.It deserves it, nothing is missing.What I wanted, I confirmed that I got it a few months ago.Even when I was leaving, there was someone I cared about the most beside me... No matter what others think or think, I am quite content anyway, and I don’t think there is anything wrong with it.

As for the others, I don't want to think about it anymore. People will always owe others in this life, but I am a scumbag, and I owe a lot.

Of course, this stage of cranky thinking didn't last long, I forgot that I was also a veritable ninth-level disabled, so halfway through thinking about it, I suddenly felt as if my head had been hit by a sap, painful and dizzy, Accompanied by the pain and numbness of the whole body, he passed out from sweating in a short time.

The next few days were spent sleeping and waking up and in a trance. Sometimes I could see a faint light when I woke up, and sometimes it was dark when I woke up. In the end, I couldn’t remember that I was in such a bad state. It has lasted several rounds of days and nights.

The only time I was awake was on a dark day.Something was crawling along my arm to my face, and the cool touch made me wake up gradually.

With the faint light, I could see clearly that it was a lizard, very small, light brown, gray-headed, and very inconspicuous.It is the first creature to visit this semi-enclosed space in the past few days. It should have entered by mistake, and it is going to go out after looking for food.

I blinked, stared at it for a while, and then felt my stomach, which I hadn't eaten for a long time, start to feel, and I was so hungry that I couldn't bear it.

I have no strength now, and after a while, I raised my hand and grabbed it without confidence.Fortunately, I was lucky this time. After trying a few times, I finally pinched its tail before it crawled out of my attack range.

I don’t know why, but I really want to share this with Poker, but now I only have one hand left, so I can only put the unlucky lizard in front of my face, press it with my chin, and reach out to scratch Poker The fingertips of the oil bottle.

There was no response at first, I didn't feel anything, I continued to scratch, but he still didn't respond.I was a little startled, and squeezed his fingers tightly to calm down and feel his pulse.After a long time, there was a faint vibration in my hand, and I finally calmed down, and called him in an unusually hoarse voice: "Brother?"

I always feel that my voice is more irritating to him, and this time is no exception. He finally responded to me, slightly raised his index finger and placed it on my knuckles.I was overjoyed and said a few more words to him, but he always reacted like this.

It seems that his consciousness has been completely blurred, and he can't understand what I'm saying. It's just that he subconsciously knows to respond to me, so he barely controls his finger movements.

I felt his movements on my fingertips for a while, and then felt a little distressed, so I pressed his fingers under my backhand, stopped talking, and let him sleep peacefully.

The sunlight outside is fading, and it is about to enter the extremely cold night.The head of that silly lizard was not fit for consumption, so I turned it over and put it in my mouth to chew raw. The mouth was full of sharp scales and bitter juice. I couldn’t help but want to vomit in my throat. swallowed it down.

How should I put it, at least I have to leave later than Poker Ping, so that he won't have to experience the pain of loss anymore.Thinking of this, I suddenly felt that I was going crazy. I obviously hoped that he would live as long as possible, but now I have changed my mind and compared with him to live longer.But after thinking about it for a long time, I still feel that although eating cold-blooded animals is particularly unhygienic, the crime is worth it.

The night was getting darker, and the moonlight that could penetrate here was too weak, and it was pitch black in front of my eyes.The surroundings are airtight, but the rocks on his body are getting colder and damper.After a while, I couldn't stop shaking, but unfortunately I was so crushed that I couldn't move at all, and my neck soon became stiff in this state.I don't know if I have a fever, my mind is muddled, and I feel unspeakably uncomfortable.I habitually reached out to grope, but Poker-Face might also have a high fever, and his limbs became cold when I touched his icy fingertips. I felt even colder, but I was reluctant to let go, so I just held it like that. Passed out again.

My body couldn't hold it any longer. This time I was in a coma for a very long time, and I woke up in the middle, but within a few seconds, my eyes went dark again.

A few days later, in a coma, I suddenly felt someone scratching my fingertips.At the beginning, the force was very light, but then it gradually became heavier, and it hurt me a lot.

I opened my eyes vigorously in the faint morning light, and what I saw was the hand of the oil bottle tightly grasping my fingertips.

He finally woke up a little bit, but my heart immediately cooled down—this kind of situation can only make me think of returning to the light.

I was too weak to speak, so I scratched his fingertips to signal my attention.He stopped quickly, and after a pause for a few seconds, he suddenly made a gesture: stretch out the thumb, index finger and little finger of his right hand, hold the middle finger and ring finger together, palm forward, and the tip of the index finger upward.

- International sign language: "I love you".

Completing this movement seemed to have exhausted Pokerfing's last strength. He held on for a few seconds with trembling hands, and then finally relaxed his strength, and his hands hung down limply, never moving again.

I opened my mouth with great effort, trying to say something, but my throat seemed to be choked and I couldn't make a sound.

After a few minutes of silence, tears came down.

I gritted my teeth and endured it for a while, but I couldn't hold on, and finally cried out.

The cry was hoarse, like a howling ghost, it sounded shrill and helpless, helpless and sad.

I can't tell what I'm feeling now, the despair is overwhelming, my brain has stopped working, I just feel that the flesh and blood around my heart are in pain, like being turned over and over again with a blunt knife, the tears can't stop, all Emotions are suppressed in the heart.

I was already seriously dehydrated, and in the end I was stingy with tears, but there was nowhere to vent the pain in my heart, so I could only cry loudly and loudly. I didn't care about it when I was extremely embarrassed, but I just desperately wanted to vent the pain that was about to push me. The heartache of falling into the abyss, but unfortunately I failed until I passed out.It hurt even in my dream, dreaming that I was squatting in front of a gray tombstone, covering my face and crying mournfully.

The tombstones are full of familiar names.The piece in front of me was empty—it was all over before I could ask the iceberg for his real name.

Except when I was a child, I rarely cried.Thinking about it now, the only few times were all reserved for Poker Bottle.This time was the most heart-piercing cry in my life, and it was also the last time in my life, and it was because of him.

If someone told me that I was such an idiot before I met him, I would not even believe it myself.But the reality is that I just fell headlong on him, and I fell on him unconsciously and willingly, which is also a very miraculous thing.

I am not a particularly tough person, even though many people think that I am, but honestly speaking, I am not.Before I met him, I lived a very casual life, except for my destined life experience, I was just an ordinary person who didn't want to suffer and wanted to be a powerful profiteer but was too tender.

Some things were difficult, so I gave up, and it was difficult to get up the energy to fight for them.My mind is good enough, but I rarely use it except when I am going to college, and I usually just leave it there, preferring to live a peaceful life without being rich.

That's right, until the stuffy oil bottle shows up.

The fat man once told me when he was drunk that the biggest variable in my brother's life was me.

And why isn't he the biggest variable in my life?

Sometimes I wonder what is the meaning of a person's life.

It is nothing more than staying alive, studying hard, getting into a better university, finding a company with good conditions or starting your own business as a small boss.Then I meet a woman who can live together, form a family, have children, and work hard to support the family for the next generation, and finally get a passbook, which contains savings from a lifetime of health and hard work, and then go around leisurely Turn around, at the end of life or die of illness, or die of old age on an unfamiliar hospital bed.

I used to think this was life, but now I know it's not real life.

It's not that Poker Bottle made me understand the true meaning of life, but that he, a seemingly emotionless person, made me understand what true feelings are and what it means to live without regrets.

Yes, I am unwilling, but I have never regretted my decision until now.

When I used to pursue him non-stop out of curiosity, I always thought, how could there be such a person in the world?No matter what adverse circumstances, however dire dangers, and however hopeless prospects he faced, he never stopped.

He was not having a good time, but at that time, every time I saw his back moving forward, I would inexplicably feel envious.

It was only later that I gradually realized that he actually understood life better than anyone else, and even taught me invisibly.

It's a kind of redemption, I've always thought about it.

So now, I don't feel bitter, it's just that the road is too long and I'm so tired.

Sometimes, I feel that my life is like being redrawn by someone, who is persistent and full of ink.

There is a sharp edge when I write, so that people can still see the light, but after the end of this stroke, the strength of the stroke gradually becomes heavier, and the ink is too thick, covering all the whiteness, blocking my struggling footsteps, so that I can never catch up. The dawn of hope...

In the final impression, it was a piece of black as if smudged by thick ink.