Fatal lie

I don't like to be a doctor. Although saving the wounded is sacred, although we can save a lot of life in the hands of a doctor, we must deal with death. Death is too cruel, I don't like it! However, in the end, I still succumbed to my parents' eyes. For the past two decades, I have gradually become accustomed to this concession. I walked into that medical school. I quickly used to death half a year ago. It has changed in my eyes. It was numb, and the teacher made us study every organ. Those materials that had stayed in life had become as common as a book/a pen in our eyes. Whenever I talk to my classmates in high school, they always look at me from a incredible eyes to study.

I met A Ling in the experimental building of the school. She is already a senior. In order to take the postgraduate entrance examination, she has a longer time in the laboratory than the dormitory every day. Because of her straightforward, we have always been compatible. Sometimes I sometimes come. I admire her guts, because at least I dare not read the late night in the experimental building, she never believes in any legend of the soul and ghost. She always disdains the screaming girls, as far as her words are concerned; "medical students should not be afraid of ghosts."

I just want to make a joke with her, really, just a joke. So I compiled a panic; "At 1 am, when the bell of the bell tower came, a table lamp in that empty laboratory, and then throwing a pen behind the body ... if there was no sound of the ground, Then turn around and see what is standing behind you ... "A Ling smiled and scolded me as a boring child, and then hurried into the gray building ...

The next day A Ling died. In that laboratory, the autopsy report said, "Die in a sudden heart disease." My heart suddenly empty ...

Three years later, I also started preparing for the postgraduate entrance examination. I was getting longer and longer in the experimental building. I no longer believe in any legends about ghost or soul. I have forgotten everything about A Ling ... In the past four years, the word of death has been dead for four years. It has been blurred in my mind, it is just a word, or some index ... the brain death for more than 6 seconds will become an irreversible death ...

Night, maybe the night is already deep. It is no longer important for me, too much information and east -west piles in my head. The wind of the wind was squeaking, but all this was not within my attention. A low bell came from the bell tower in the distance ... When ... should ...

The low bell, as if the deepest shock in the darkness, I wiped my sour eyes ... The bell like the bell like memory, I remembered the promise I edited three years ago, and ... A Ling ...!

The pen in my hand suddenly became particularly conspicuous, it seemed to be with a sense of anxiety, with gray emotions, with my heart ... I stared at it uneasily, my hands seemed to be controlled by my hand to control the brain's control of the brain. In the dark, a line of strokes ... The pen has been thrown behind, the heartbeat ... once, two times ... the night is still quiet ... There is already a coolness in the deep bones, it is impossible ...!

I picked up another pen and threw it behind me, ... No ... no voice! A kind of thing called fear to every pore expansion of the body ...

I turned around ... ah! A Ling standing behind the pen ...