Monsters Last night, they came to find me again! They still didn't say anything, just stood silently by my bedside. As for me, I was still stiff, lying motionless on the bed, staring blankly at the charred, headless bodies surrounding me. As for him, he still whispers in my ear: "Actually, you're just like me!" I was used to meeting them late at night, but still, my whole body was drenched in sweat. It wasn't until they quietly left that I heard Do Ninh's steady breathing on the opposite side of the bed. The cold moonlight shining through the window, the light in the dormitory room has long been turned off, feeling a bit cold. I struggled to turn around, felt the dagger under my pillow, felt the roughness and roughness of the handle, my breathing gradually returned to normal. Then I fell into a deep sleep. From time to time I also return to visit my old school - the University of Pedagogy. I sit by the flower garden in front of the gate of male student dormitory No. 2, where there used to be an ancient rosemary tree, now colorful flowers are fluttering in the wind. I often contemplate the 7-storey modern dormitory building in front of me, trying to imagine its former appearance: faded red bricks, wobbly wooden windows like they are about to fall, heavy iron gates. rusty masonry. And the young faces that have gone in and out of this building. Suddenly, I felt my heart heavy with pity, as if attacked by a soft emotion. And the door of memory was involuntarily opened a little, endlessly, unable to close. If you know me, you will feel that I am a man of few words. Most of the time, I try to be alone, eat alone, travel alone, even when going to lecture, I also try to avoid sitting with other people. Don't come near me! I often use this look to prevent people who want to learn and approach me. Everyone seemed to respect me but were very distant from me. As for me, I am familiar with the personality and living habits of the people around me. If in the lecture hall, the cafeteria or in the school garden, you see a pale-faced person with a scornful face but always paying attention to others, that person is me. I live in room 313, building B, dormitory 5 Nam Pham of J University. My roommate's name is Do Ninh, studying for a master's degree in Legal. Probably because he was in the same room, he was one of the few people who talked to me often in the Legal Academy. He's an honest guy, you can see he's tried to forge a good relationship with me, so that I don't become too lonely in the academy - even though I don't mind this much. - but, I don't refuse to talk to you from time to time and also to your overly flirtatious girlfriend. "Come on, let's eat together!" I was holding a bowl, eating a bowl of mixed spicy noodles, while focusing my mind on looking at a photo and the caption under the photo on the computer, not noticing when Do Ninh and his girlfriend entered the room. It was a skewer of grilled goat meat, sprinkled with hot chili peppers and seasoned spices, the golden fat was dripping down, giving off the smell of burnt grill. I think, at that time, my face must be whiter than the wall behind. I stared blankly at the skewer of goat meat that was held out in front of me, my throat rattled for a few times, then, I vomited half of the bowl of noodles I just ate into the bowl in my hand. I covered my mouth, picked up a bowl full of vomit and ran out of the room, behind me heard Tran Giao's surprised voice: "What's wrong with him?" I lazily leaned into the bathroom sink, splashing water on my face. Lifting his head, looking directly at the stained mirror on the wall, in the mirror appeared a pale face, smeared with water and cold sweat, dull eyes, the corner of his mouth still had some food that had just been vomited and had not been washed. . I bent over, vomited again for a few hours, felt that my stomach was empty, there was really nothing left to vomit, so I struggled to get up, went to the faucet, took a sip of cold water, rinsed my mouth, and then spit. Go. Throwing the bowl of noodles in the trash, I staggered back to my room. In the room, a mess. Tran Giao is hunched over and sitting on Do Ninh's bed, there's vomit on the ground, the room reeks of uncleanness. Do Ninh covered his nose and placed the wash basin in front of her. Seeing me enter, Tran Giao raised his face covered with sweat and tears, raised his hand to point at me, was about to say something, but was overwhelmed by a wave of vomiting, unable to say anything. Do Ninh looked at me shyly: "Just now, Giao Giao didn't understand what was wrong with you, was very curious, so he came to see what he was watching on the computer, the result was..." I didn't answer him, but walked away. straight to the computer. It's a web page I'm looking at, with some pictures in it. Among them was a photograph of a rotting skull, with the skin on the neck and head stripped. The other three photos show the victim's body with all four limbs and two arms amputated. This is a picture of a murder scene that happened in the US state of Wisconsin in 2000. I have downloaded these photos and saved them in the file “severely damaged”. I stood up, walked over to Tran Giao, bent down and said, "Are you okay?" Tran Giao, now exhausted, looked at me, cowering behind in fear. "Don't come near me!" Trembling, she raised her hand, pointed at the computer, then at me again, her lips quivering, finally squeezing out two words: “Monster!” “Delivery!” Do Ninh shouted loudly, then looked at me worriedly. I smiled at him, showing that I didn't care. I really didn't care. I'm a monster, I know it! My name is Phuong Moc, two years ago, in a fire, I was the only lucky survivor.

Pubblicato da: PublishDrive