This is my destiny, somewhere, already doomed …。 .
" Preface"
Before looking at the woman, I finally know what is called panic.
Her dirty fingernails on my face printed under a deep mark, mark deep can even put my chest cut out those blood, I fear, as in Lycoris radiate red exudes a stench of liquid, I cried, tears are not afraid of her, I just regret I regret their origin, their mother, if not for giving birth to me, if not in my face a life time abandon me, if you can in my impression leave any footprints, I will thank her, but she left me is too hasty, I don”t know all about her, I want her to leave a picture, let me in the darkness more warmth, more rely on, it does not work for you … …
I grew up, pay attention to their external image, in spite of junior high school, I still cannot decide everything, now already is in the winter, the other girls are wearing warm and beautiful clothes, and I, still with the same primary school, wearing, solid down jacket, pants with a bucket, look at the half sister, although she read only the first grade, weight is 50 kilograms, but when she put on the woman to buy her a skirt, it”ll be lean cock, no two, I know I care, know your humble, but I don”t know, all I ever created what have, want to endure such pain.
She scolded me, why the wardrobe disturbed, the blue dress did not see. I cried. I don”t know. Then she kicked me. Call me bitch. So I think she”s grandma and grandpa, grandma and grandpa grandma and hostile, although as her, but before her children like. And grandpa, every day she scold pour dog”s blood on, can only swallow insult and humiliation silently. Now she do this to me … …
This is my fate, I don”t blame anyone. I said I was strong enough, I said I was lucky. I said I”d never very happy, I never sad … …
Death is very great, after death can forget everything, then start again.
Maybe I ”ll really die, even in this night, moon have an exam achievement get out, and then I told the father, then a bloodstain will wash my whole brain.
This is fate, I do not blame anyone, I really do not blame.
Listen to the wind, the children crying. O.
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