The Boy Who Loved Me Most in the World is Dead Ethan was a police officer. He was stabbed seven times while trying to save a girl from domestic violence. Afterwards, the girl tearfully claimed that Ethan had molested her, which is why her boyfriend stabbed him. The culprit was released without charges due to an insanity plea. As I looked at their faces, I suddenly smiled. An insanity plea, huh? What a coincidence. I have one of those too. 0 Ethan was dead. When the nurse told me this news, she watched my face carefully. But I showed no expression, just fiddling with the doll in my hands. “What does that mean?” I asked. She said it meant Ethan would never come visit me again. I paused, then smiled and said, “That’s good.” I had grown tired of Ethan anyway. Tired of how handsome he looked in his police uniform, making me feel even more sickly and ugly in comparison. Tired. Tired of him always cooking delicious meals, making me gain weight. And tired of him always holding his guitar, singing off-key songs to me. It’s better if he never comes again. Someone like me with mental illness shouldn’t be loved by anyone anyway. On the days without Ethan, I ate alone, listened to music alone, took walks alone. But for some reason, my chest always hurt terribly, so much that I couldn’t sleep. So one night I snuck into the director’s office. He was busy kissing a nurse and got startled. But I didn’t care. I pointed at my heart and said, “I feel awful. Fix me quickly.” After hearing my symptoms, the director sighed and said: “I’ll take you to see Ethan one last time.” 0
Ethan lay in a small room at the funeral home. He was the most handsome person I’d ever seen. Back in school he was the campus heartthrob. Girls were always posting his photos on the confession wall. But now he didn’t look so good. His arms and legs were broken, like snapped tree branches. His face His face was covered in bruises, his chest caved in. The staff on duty were whispering next door: “So sad…he wasn’t even on duty. He was just passing by when he saw that rich kid beating his girlfriend.” “Everyone else was too scared to get close. Officer Ethan was the only one who rushed over. And now he’s dead. What a shame.” “I heard he was at the mall to buy an engagement ring…when they took him to the hospital he was barely breathing, kept calling out a name. Rachel or something.” It’s Rachel, I thought to myself. Ethan had helped me choose that name. He said he hoped my future would be full of sunshine, always bright and clear. For some reason, my heart started hurache again. I nudged Ethan. “Hey, I don’t like this name anymore. Help me think of a new one.” He lay there with his eyes closed, not responding. I kissed his lips gently. So cold. No response. So this is what death is like. Suddenly I started screaming hysterically, banging my head against the wall. The staff next door were terrified. They wanted to rush in but were frozen by my heart-wrenching cries. By the time they finally gathered the courage to open the door, I was already gone. 0
Two miles away at a private hospital. I stood in the shadows of the hallway, silently watching the direction of a patient room. The girl staying there was named Olivia. If it weren’t for protecting her, Ethan wouldn’t have been stabbed seven times by that crazed attacker. At this moment, Olivia was crying to a group of reporters. “Lucas didn’t mean to do it, we were just m “That police officer went too far. He pretended to break up the fight, but actually actually took the chance to grope me.” “Lucas told him to stop but he got even worse, so Lucas…I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry. Lucas never meant to hurt anyone, he just loves me too much.” … Olivia’s testimony was quickly corroborated by several alleged eyewitnesses: “That cop really did take the chance to grab the girl’s hand and touch her chest.” “We were all stunned. Who would’ve thought a police officer would do something like that?” “The cop definitely threw the first punch. The other guy only pulled out the knife when he got desperate. I saw it clearly, no mistake.” People had been skeptical of the girl’s story at first, but now with witnesses it became much more believable. And conveniently, the security cameras at the scene had malfunctioned that day. Public opinion quickly turned angry: “How is it possible the the cameras just happened to break that day?” “I bet the police are just too ashamed to release the footage.” “You had such a scumbag in your ranks and you’re trying to save face?” … I closed my phone and lay down on the bed. In my mind I saw Ethan on the day he changed his college application to the police academy. In the sunlight, the young man in a white shirt looked at me with a serious expression. “Rachel, justice has always been absent in your life.” “So…I want to try to become that justice for you.” What a fool he was. He had always been trying his hardest to transform me, a lunatic, into a warm and happy normal person. “Looks like it’s a good thing he didn’t succeed,” I said with a smile to Ethan in the photo. I took off my hospital gown and threw it in the trash as I walked out of the room. Outside was an endless sea of darkness. Perfect. They had extinguished the only light in my life. Little did they know, darkness was my home turf. 0
I climbed into the director’s office. He was shamelessly making out with a nurse in the dark. I turned on the lights and stared at them expressionlessly. The The nurse let out a scream. The director frantically covered himself with a blanket. “Y-y-you…are you crazy?” he stammered. I looked at him puzzled. “If I wasn’t crazy, why would I be in a mental hospital?” I sat down in the leather chair in the center of the office and propped my feet up on the desk. “Get me a new identity.” The director flew into a rage. “What do you think you’re doing?! Giving me orders! You want to rebel?!” I reached out and opened the venetian blinds. Outside was a camcorder, its red recording it recorded. It was a gift Ethan had bought me with his first month’s salary as a cop. High definition even in the dark. I had left it outside when I climbed in through the window. “The movies they show in the activity room have been so boring lately,” I said, waving the camcorder. “Should I give everyone this to watch instead?” The fat on the director’s face trembled. “What…what kind of identity do you want?” I thought for a moment, then turned to the nurse. “What was your name again?” There were dozens of nurses here, but I remembered hers as the prettiest. The nurse stammered, “R-Rachel.” “Nice name,” I said. “I’ll take it.” 0
“Rachel, with six years of nursing experience at Southside Psychiatric Center.” With this identity, I stood before Lucas. Thanks to that insanity plea, he had escaped criminal charges. The price was that he needed to stay at a psychiatric facility for a few months to lay low. The moment he saw me, Lucas smiled. “What a pretty new toy. I like it.” Before me, Lucas had already driven away over a dozen caretakers. One of them was found covered in blood and is still in the ICU. So even with sky-high pay, no one dared to come take care of this violent maniac anymore. But I was different. “I’m not here to be your toy,” I said softly. Before I finished speaking, a glass cup flew straight at my head. It shattered, blood immediately flowing downehead. Lucas lounged on the bed, smiling at me. He was waiting for my reaction. The previous caretakers had either screamed, broken down, or gotten angry. But I did none of those things. I just stuck out my tongue and licked the blood that had dripped to my lips. Lucas stopped smiling. His world had always been full of sheep. But now, one wolf had finally encountered another wolf in the wilderness. It must be quite a novel experience for him. I walked towards Lucas step by step, sat down, and stared intently into his eyes. “Do you enjoy seeing others in pain?” I asked softly. This was the psychological mechanism of sadists. Seeing others suffer gave them intense pleasure. “Too bad, I can’t feel pain. Torturing me won’t do any good.” “You can’t feel pain?” Lucas asked in a low voice. “Don’t believe me?” I picked up a glass ashtray and placed it in Lucas’s hand. “If you don’t believe it.” Glass items weren’t allowed in psychiatric facilities. But Lucas, the only son of Starlight Group’s chairman, was naturally above all rules. He held the ashtray in his hand, staring into my eyes, not moving. My gaze was too calm, like a still water surface with no ripples. A person can’t get any sense of accomplishment from repeatedly striking a calm water surface. This made him lose interest. But that’s okay, I can help you find some fun. Looking into Lucas’s eyes, I spoke softly: “Although I can’t feel pain, if you want to see suffering, I still have a way to help you achieve that.” I have very abnormal eyes. Normal people would be scared of them. But lunatics are drawn to them.
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