Iron box

I was killed...

The bullet goes between the eyebrows, one hit kills, and I don't remember anything else

My soul is trapped in an iron box guarding my body.

1.

Curled up in the dark day in and day out, there is only one thought in my empty mind: Why is God doing this to me, am I an unforgivable person?

Just when I was almost part of the loneliness, a voice finally came from outside the tin box.

"Liu Liu!"

"I'm here, don't be afraid, I'm here!"

The iron box was vibrating, and someone pulled the iron box out of its place. For the first time, I felt ecstatic, whatever that Liuliu was, I was able to come out anyway!

Kachi...

Kachi...

A dazzling light penetrated from the gap, and I flew out instantly.

I am free!

Suddenly, an inexplicable force yanked me back to my body, and I smashed back into the iron box.

I frowned and tried again, still being pulled back irresistibly by an invisible force.

I sat in the tin box trembling with anger, staring at the gap. The gap got bigger and bigger, and as the long-lost light poured down, the iron box that resembled a huge drawer was finally pulled out, and the appearance of the person outside came into my eyes.

He was wearing a camel-colored trench coat, which was very textured, but at the moment it was a little dusty. His hair was clean, but neglected, with bangs out of view. His hands were very white, and he was holding on to the handle of the tin box, trembling even more severely than when I was angry just now.

I followed his gaze and saw a corpse with a less graceful appearance.

I flew out lightly and looked around as far as I could move.

An abandoned mortuary.

Messy footsteps came from outside the half-falling door, and several men in black ran in. The leader was about to speak when he leaned against the wall and vomited.

The people who followed behind also began to vomit one after another, and their faces were ashen. I turned to look at the man, but he didn't look sick at all.

His trembling hand had reached into the iron box and gently hugged my body out. He sat on the ground with my body lying in his arms. I drifted over and saw his tearful eyes.

"Look at you." He stroked my cheek distressedly, then showed me his hand and smiled wryly, "It's so rotten."

Like a very bad joke.

But I suddenly felt a repression, different from the repression brought on by the long darkness.

I squatted in front of him and looked at him, he stared at my body, a line of tears followed by a wry smile: "I'm sorry, I came too late, you are so beautiful, you must be very angry now?"

After the men in black vomited, they stepped forward with guilt and said, "Young master, the car has arrived, let's go back."

He picked me up and walked out of the mortuary. The man in black followed behind him. I was pulled by the force and floated behind the man in black.

He placed my body in a transparent cryogenic coffin and smiled at me: "Let's go home."

Family?

I frowned, nothing about him in my empty mind.

The man in black carried the coffin into a high-end apartment and left. I could see that this was the man's room.

There is a huge oil painting hanging on the wall, in the painting is a girl with short hair fluttering, half-turned and smiling. I looked at the face in the coffin and could still identify the appearance, and knew that the person in the painting was me. I looked at the inscription again, and it said "Luo Yi".

Is it this person's name?

Is he my lover?

I floated up to the man who was taking off his coat and faced him. He is not amazing, but he is very attractive, gentle and a little delicate, and his red eyes are even more pitiful.

He hung up his clothes, then came to the coffin, pulled a chair and sat down. I sat cross-legged on the coffin lid - a good position to observe myself and him.

He smiled, there were gentle water waves in his eyes, and his voice was low and pleasant: "I should have picked you up last month, but something happened, you don't blame me, right?"

He gently stroked the transparent coffin lid, "That garbage is already dead. Last week's execution, Liu Liu, I avenged you, you can rest easy."

"revenge?"

I looked at him puzzled.

Of course he didn't hear it, still muttering to himself: "I'll be with you all the time, no one can separate us anymore, you see—" He stretched out his hand and gestured to the whole room, "This is us watching together. I've bought the house I've lived with, and we'll get married in this house, okay? Liu Liu, I love you..." His voice trembled, "Death can't separate us."

There was a strange emotion in my heart, I didn't go into it, let's call it pity for now.

The affection in his eyes moved me, and if I could, I wanted to hug him tightly. But I'm dead, don't remember anything about him, don't remember what crap for what purpose, don't even remember the world.

Why cling to a "thing" that will never give him a response?

He was hunched over, hands clasped to his forehead, and I heard him sob.

He cried for a long time, the cry was full of guilt, I couldn't understand, what did he have to do for me?

In the days that followed, I sat on the lid of the coffin and lived with him. No one came in this room except him, maybe because it was scary, after all, no one wanted to go into a room with dead people.

He would work in the study. I couldn't go to the study. I could only see him strolling back and forth wearing a pair of silver-rimmed glasses. Sometimes he was fluent in German and English.

He would cook by himself, walking around the open kitchen in an apron, the close-fitting black knit pulled up, revealing his strong forearms. The finished product he made was beautiful, but unfortunately I couldn't smell it, let alone taste it.

He bought a rocking chair and sat on it to read in his spare time. The rocking chair was next to me. He read and read, and he would smile at me from time to time. He didn't feel disgusted by my unrecognizable appearance.

Why am I dying?

I feel sad.

If I had such a lover, I would wash his hands and make soup for him, greet him warmly, and make soup and porridge when he had a stomachache. He will also take good care of me, and we will be the envy of the whole world.

But why am I dying?

2.

As the days passed, I was surprised to find that my body was slowly recovering.

(To be continued, I have written so much and I don’t know if anyone has read it. If someone reads it, I will continue to write)