White City Murder Expo

When I got home, the house was dark and silent.Turn on the porch light, and there was a person sitting on the sofa in the living room not far away, and the person said, "Where have you been, Dad?"

"Oh, Butcher." I wanted to take off my coat and put it on the chair, but suddenly remembered that the coat was not in my hands. "It's so late, why don't you have class tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow is the weekend."

"I forgot. Wait, can I not sleep on weekends?"

"I'm waiting for you."

"Wait what I do," I said, "This is my home and I'll always be back."

Butcher was noncommittal.He put his right leg on his left knee, his left hand resting casually on his ankle, turned his head, and looked at me silently, as if he was making a scene before the fight.I looked at him for a moment, then turned around and went to the kitchen to get a glass of water.Butcher had been looking at me in a way that, if it had substance, it was more than offensive.

"You..." I was about to say something.

"Good night, Sue," he said, and went upstairs without looking back.

"Hey." I said.Standing downstairs and looking up at his figure walking into the blind spot of sight, I feel a little angry, but also faintly afraid. These considerations are turning around in my mind, and finally they are all smoldering in my heart.Half of me was contemplating the possibility of going upstairs now and killing him before committing suicide; the other half of me stopped by Butcher's door, worried that he wasn't tucked up properly.

In the end I just went back to my room and lay down.

Butcher and I still didn't talk much during the day the next day, but we went to the market together.He doesn't know how to bargain. If it weren't for me, he would have spent a lot of money.The fresh-milk farmer, who led a cow, agreed to sell us an earthen vase for half a penny, besides the milk.Butcher thought I was not holding things properly, so he held the bottle in his arms with one hand; there was also a large bag of sundries. We walked side by side on the street, each carrying one side of the bag, walking in the sun like this, wanting to smoke, But he couldn't free his hand.I don't know when this kind of comfortable trouble has been far away from me, like I shouldn't get it.Not far away, the gravel beside the railway track began to tremble. I was about to say something, and at this moment, the train whizzed by.

"What, Dad?" Butcher asked me.Suddenly, there was nothing left to say.

In the afternoon, I went to Chicago to collect the bills. At the end of the month, some of the old customers’ debts were being paid back one after another. After checking the books with the clerk, I found that there was only one person left.When counting the money, I deliberately took out a few and put them in another pocket. On the way home, I turned to the police station to take a look, and learned that Cillian had already returned home from get off work.So I went to his house again.

"Your clothes are not dry yet." Cillian took the coat in and handed it to me. I gave him the money I prepared in advance, but he didn't take it.

"Is this a bribe?" he asked.

I shook my head: "Which hospital is your mother in?"

"It's far," he told me, but still refused to take the money. "I don't need your pity, Sue."

"I never pity anyone," I said, "what if I bought you a kiss?" I was crazy.In an instant, I thought of it like this, how could I blurt out such ridiculous words.Cillian turned his head, raised his eyes, opened his mouth slightly in surprise, and walked towards me.I was about to say sorry when he lowered his head and kissed the corner of my mouth.

"Come on, nobody's going to pay for that," he said. "Tea or coffee?"

"Coffee," I said.

I sat for a while and was about to say goodbye, when it started to rain lightly outside.Cillian stood at the door with me, looking at the continuous rain in front of him, he asked, "Stay for dinner?"

"Okay." I said.Although Butcher is still waiting for me at home, he will kill me.

When eating, I always feel that the atmosphere is a bit awkward. Of course, I may be the only one who feels this way.Cillian seems like a laid-back outsider, able to get by in his own way no matter what the circumstances, and sometimes it's tempting to take him apart and see how he works.

"Listening to you made me want to call the police," he said, "and then I found out I was."

I didn't even realize that the words leaked from my mouth, as if I always unconsciously revealed too much when facing Cillian.When you face the priest behind the curtain, the icon in the empty chapel, you can't help but say things that you wouldn't have said otherwise. "Has anyone ever said you look like an icon?" I asked.Cillian showed a surprised look again.

"Is it so... holy? I thought you were completely disappointed in me last night."

"No, I mean," I thought for a moment, "that when good or bad things happen, you just watch."

After dinner, he went to wash the dishes, and I sat on the sofa and watched his back. This scene was a little... too much like home.I left without saying goodbye, putting the money under the glass as I left.

It was already dark, and the rain hadn't stopped, but it didn't tend to get bigger.Walking halfway, there was a flame dancing not far away. Where is the fire?A little closer, it seems to be the direction of my home.My heart beat faster and my mind went blank. I hurried over to take a look, only to find that it was the Hunter's house that was on fire.Many people in the town came to put out the fire. I saw Hunter in pajamas in front of his house. He raised his head and stared blankly at the house flashing fire in the drizzle, and the smoke that rose up dissolved into the fire. In the darkness.

I was so shocked that I didn't know what to say, I just comforted him with pale words: "The fire is already very small..."

And Hunter just shook his head.

"My paintings are all at home," he said.

After about an hour, the fire finally went out.The fire was not big, and the frame of the house seemed to be unaffected, but the outer wall of the second floor was charred black.Hunter refused everyone's help, and went back to the house alone to check the damage. He went in and didn't come out again. I heard someone next to him commenting that he was very pitiful.Finally everyone dispersed.I got home too, and I saw Butcher sitting in the living room, just like last night, turning to look at me.I suddenly felt chills all over my body. "Did you do it?" I asked.

"Where have you been?" he asked me back.

I took off my coat and put it on the back of the chair, rolled up my sleeves, walked over, and picked him up from the sofa by his collar. "Why are you doing this, Butcher?" I yelled at him. "Who else do you want to kill?"

Butcher pursed his lips tightly, clenched his teeth, and his cheeks bulged slightly.He grabbed my wrist and pushed me away, and we both staggered. "What can I do?" He came towards me instead, pressing harder and harder, "Can I just watch him snatch you away, Sue?"

"What?" I asked, "You thought I was with Hunter?"

"I don't know, so I asked where you went."

"...wait a minute," I asked, "what if I'm in his room today?"

"You're not here," he said.

"What if the fuck I'm here?!"

I rushed up and punched him, and Butcher hit back mercilessly, right on the right side of my cheek.I touched the corner of my mouth with my hand and took a deep breath. The swollen and sore skin seemed to be extremely hot.Butcher looked at me blankly without apologizing, and then his eyes quickly returned to their usual indifference.I didn't know that the look in the eyes was so hurtful, it was more sad than the pain itself.

"Butcher, what if I'm here?" I asked again.

Butcher didn't answer me.