Chapter 2 forgotten story

My wife was a music teacher before marriage.She is a beauty and is very popular with the students.Even after she got married, from time to time she still received New Year's cards from female students she had taught, or love letters from male students.She always kept these letters carefully on the bookshelf in the bedroom, and every time she tidied up the room, she would read those letters, with a happy smile on her face from time to time. She has played piano since elementary school.After graduating from the music department of the university, she already sounded like a professional pianist, making people wonder why she didn't become a professional pianist.I have asked people who are very critical of the piano, and according to their opinion, there is actually some kind of flaw in her playing.After marriage, she often played the piano at home.

I have no musical literacy, and I can only name three musicians at most.She played the piano a lot in front of me, but to be honest, I couldn't hear anything good about classical music.For me, it is really difficult to understand how to appreciate a song without lyrics. After knowing her for three years, I gave her a ring.After getting married, I moved into her natal home.Both my parents are dead, and I have no relatives who can be called family members, but at the same time as I got married, these three families were added at once.A year after the marriage, the family added another one.

Shortly after the birth of our daughter, my wife and I started to have more arguments.We are all good at words. I don't know if this is the reason for the negative impact; we all strongly advocate our opinions.I often argue late into the night over some sesame-sized matters. There also seemed to be some kind of fun in this quarrel at first.I think listening to the other person's opinion, expressing one's desire to get rid of, seems to be able to see what each other's heart looks like between acceptance and negation, and it also helps to narrow the distance between the two.But later this kind of discussion turned into a kind of emotional dispute, and both of them had to win the other to be convinced.

Our husband and wife just quarreled like this, ignoring the mother-in-law who was comforting the crying granddaughter.In the relationship before marriage, most people only see the advantages of each other. Even if they see the shortcomings, they can open their hearts and love what they love.However, after marriage, the two keep zero distance at any time, and these shortcomings become very obtrusive, making the two parties even more repulsive to each other. In order to suppress each other, we said hurtful things; in order to override each other, we even abused each other unconsciously and without conscience.

But I didn't hate her for that either.When I saw the ring my wife wore on her left ring finger, I always felt that she seemed to have the same desire.So I always wonder why the two of us can't get closer to each other step by step. The only time she takes the ring off to avoid distraction is when she's playing the piano and sets it aside.I didn't have any special feelings when I saw her behavior before, but since we started arguing, sometimes I would take it as her silent protest (wow~~!) With this marriage, I will be able to continue teaching piano. I got into a car accident the day after I quarreled with her.When I drove out of the car from the garage and was about to go to work in the company, what caught my eyes was the dense young leaves on the trees.On that clear morning in May, drops of morning dew were still shining on the leaves.I got in the driver's seat, started the engine, and hit the gas.My home is about a 20-minute drive from the company.On the way I stopped at a red light at an intersection.While waiting for the red light to change, I suddenly noticed that the window next to the driver's seat was suddenly darkened. When I turned my head, I saw a truck head blocking the sunlight and rushing towards me.

I don't know when I woke up.I even suspect that I am still asleep.It was pitch black, with neither light nor sound, making me wonder where I was.I tried to move my body, but I couldn't even turn my neck.I just feel weak all over, and I can't even feel if I still have skin. Only the right arm has numbness below the elbow!The skin on the arms, wrists, and fingertips seemed to be covered with a layer of static electricity, and the side of the arm felt like it was touching the sheets.In the darkness, this was the only stimulus from the outside world.This touch made me realize that I might be lying on a bed.

I didn't know what situation I was in, and I was overwhelmed by confusion and fear.But I can neither scream nor escape.There was an absolute darkness that had never been seen before and that seemed endless.I waited for the light to break through the darkness, but that moment never came. In the silence, not even the sound of the second hand of the clock moving can be heard.So I can't tell how much time passed until I started to feel a warmth on the skin of my right arm.It was the warmth of the sun shining on the skin.But why can't I see the world under the sun? I suspected that I was imprisoned in a certain place, and tried to move my body to escape from this place, but my body just couldn't move, as if my whole body except this right arm was melted into this darkness.

I wanted to see if my right arm could still move, so I poured strength into it.Now I found that my right arm had a response that I couldn't feel when I tried to move other parts.The muscles stretched slightly, and I felt that only the index finger was moving.In this dense darkness, it is impossible to see whether this is really the case.But from the friction between the pad of the index finger and the bed sheet, I can feel that this finger is moving up and down slightly. I kept moving my index finger in the silent darkness.It's the only thing I can do.I don't know how long it has been, it feels like I have been doing this action repeatedly for several days.

Suddenly someone touched my index finger.The hand felt quite cold, as if it had just washed the dishes.I knew it was a hand because I could feel several slender fingers holding my index finger.I couldn't even hear the man's footsteps, the touch of this hand appeared so abruptly in the dark.It surprised me, and at the same time, I was happy to have other people around. The man seemed to be gripping my index finger in panic, and felt a palm rest on my right arm as well.I think the person who touched my finger might have put another hand on it too.In the oppressive feeling on the right arm, you can also feel the hard and cold feeling of some kind of metal object.

I surmised that the man who had put his hand on my arm was wearing a ring on his finger, and that the ring was touching my skin.Immediately, a person with a ring on his left hand appeared in my mind, and only then did I realize that the person touching my arm might be my wife.I couldn't even hear her voice, her footsteps, or the rubbing of her clothes.Because of the darkness around me, I couldn't even see her face, I could only feel her hands touching the skin of my right arm from time to time. Then the touch of her hand disappeared, and I was once again left in the dark.I began to wonder if she would never come back again, and moved my index finger up and down desperately.For some reason, I couldn't see anything, but she seemed to be able to see around her and was walking back and forth.I thought, maybe she could see my index finger moving?

After a while, someone touched my right arm again.I knew right away that it wasn't my wife's hand, but a hard, wrinkled old man's hand.This hand seemed to be investigating something, touching my fingers and right palm, as if massaging my index finger.I desperately focused on my fingers.The old hand held my fingers, as if measuring my strength.Now I can no longer compete with that old hand, and I can't move my fingers.At this time, I realized that even if someone asked me to move my finger, I would only be able to move about one centimeter above the base of the finger. Therefore, as long as I was fixed a little, my finger could not move at all. After a while, someone pressed something pointed like a needle against the pulp of my index finger.A pain made my fingers move reflexively.Then the tactile sensation of the needle disappeared, but then it was the turn of the palm to be pricked again.The sudden bursts of pain in the dead darkness made me astonished as if I had been surprised.I moved my finger up and down in slight protest, and the needle was removed.I think the rule of the game is that as long as I move my index finger, the needle will be removed, right? The needle was sticking all over my right hand.The thumb and middle finger, the back of the hand and the wrist also experienced a stabbing pain. Every time I was stabbed, I had to work hard to move my fingers.The position under the acupuncture moves from the wrist up the arm bit by bit.When I started to dread what was going to be the next stab in my face, the pain suddenly went away from the elbow.At first I thought the needle was no longer pricking me, but I couldn't feel any skin above my right elbow.Even if the needle sticks in my shoulder, left arm, neck, or foot, etc., I probably won't feel anything. I found that I seemed to only have pain in the area below the right elbow.A numbness like a rush of static electricity covered my right arm. In this silent and lightless darkness, only this touch is clear. After a while, someone took my right hand.This time, I feel that the skin of this hand is not aging at all, it is a young and immature hand.From the touch of the slender fingers, I immediately realized that it was my wife's hand. She continued to stroke my right arm.I flicked my index finger desperately to let her know I could feel her hand.I couldn't imagine what this movement looked like to her, and I was worried that she would think it was just a simple spasm.If I could, I'd speak up right away, but I don't feel like I'm breathing on my own. After a while I felt my right arm lift up.The touch of the sheets on the arm also disappeared.Then, I felt something soft touch the palm of my hand.I immediately remembered that it was her cheek.My fingers feel her cheeks are wet. My arm was supported by her hand, and it seemed that something pointed was touching the skin on the inside of my arm.I thought it was probably her nails. Her nails moved across my skin as if she were drawing a picture.At first I didn't understand what she wanted to do.She repeated the same action over and over again, and after a while, I knew she was writing with her nails.I focused on the skin on the arm, trying to understand what her nails were painting. "Finger Yes=1 No=2" Her nails wrote these simple words on my arm.I understood what she meant and moved my index finger up and down once.Now the touch of the nails that had written those words repeatedly disappeared.After a while, my wife traced on my arm again with a slightly hesitant speed. "Yes?" I wiggled my fingers up and down again.In this way, my wife and I began to live a life of communicating in this awkward way. I am in a dark world surrounded by darkness.There is silence here, not even a single sound can be heard, and my heart is extremely lonely.Even if someone is around me, as long as he doesn't touch my skin, it's no different.My wife just stays with me in this state every day. She wrote many words on the inside of my right arm, sending a message for me in the dark.Before I got used to this way of communication, no matter how much I focused on the tactile sensation of the skin, it was still difficult for me to judge what she wrote.When I couldn't judge what she wrote, I waved my index finger up and down twice to express negative, and she would write it again from the beginning.After communicating like this for a while, I can already decipher what she is writing at the same speed as she can write on my skin. If what she wrote on my arm is true, I'm lying in the hospital room right now.She told me through my right arm that there were white walls on all sides, only the right side of the bed had a window, and that she was sitting on a chair between the hospital bed and the wall with the window. While waiting at a red light at an intersection that day, a dozing truck driver drove into me and seriously injured me.I suffered fractures all over my body, all internal organs were destroyed, and even my brain was seriously injured, so I lost sight, hearing, smell, taste, and all sense of touch except for my right arm.Even if the fracture is healed, it seems that these senses will never recover. After knowing this fact, I moved my index finger.No matter how desperate I was, I couldn't cry anymore, I could only convey my sorrow to her by moving my fingers.But I believe that from her point of view, lying on the hospital bed with a mask-like expressionless face, I must have just moved my fingers slightly. I could not see the morning come with my own eyes.You can only feel the warmth of the sun with your right arm, and know the dawn by the temperature you feel on your skin.The numbness of waking up from the darkness has disappeared, at least the skin feels the same as before. Shortly after dawn, I suddenly felt my wife's hand touch my arm, letting me know that she came to visit me in the ward again today.She started by writing "Good Morning" on my right arm.I moved my index finger as a response to her. When she was getting ready to go home after dark, she would first write "good night" on my hand, and then the touch of her hand would disappear into the darkness.Every time I wonder, have I been abandoned?Is my wife not coming again?Whenever I spend the night half asleep and feel her touch again with my right arm in the warm sunlight, I feel a strong sense of security. All day long she wrote on my skin, telling me about the weather and how my daughter was doing.She told me that she has applied for the insurance and the freight company's compensation, and her life is safe for the time being. I can only wait for her to deliver all kinds of (wow~~!) messages to me.Even if I want to know what time it is, there is no way to tell her what I need.However, when she came to the ward in the morning, she would definitely write on my right arm what day it is today. "Today is the fourth of August." One morning, she wrote with her fingertips, now I know it's been three months since the accident.At noon that day, a visitor came to the ward. My wife's hand suddenly left my arm, and I was suddenly abandoned in a world of darkness and silence.After a while, a small temperature touched my right arm.It was a wet feeling like sweat, but also a little warm.I immediately realized that it was my daughter's hand.My wife ran her fingertips over my right arm, telling me that her parents had brought their daughter to visit me.She took the hand of her one-year-old daughter and put it on my right arm. I waved my index finger up and down to say hello to my father-in-law, mother-in-law, and daughter. They had already visited me several times.I only felt different touches from my wife's hand touching my right arm one after another. Presumably her parents used touch instead of chatter.The way they feel on my skin has its own characteristics.The softness, hardness and thickness of the skin are different.Sometimes the fear in the opponent's heart can be glimpsed from the area and speed of contact with the skin. Not a trace of fear could be felt from her daughter's touch.The way that touch seemed to indicate that she didn't know what was lying in front of her eyes.Presumably in front of her, I am probably not alone, but a mass of flesh lying on the bed, right?This thought gave me a strong shock. The daughter was taken home by her husband.But when I thought of the touch of my daughter's hand, I couldn't help but feel a tingle in my heart.As far as I know she can't speak, she hadn't even called me "Daddy" before my accident.But now I don't have to care what her voice is, because I can't even hear her.Not only will I never see her learning to walk, I will never smell what I get when I put my nose to her forehead. Only the surface of my right arm is still conscious, so I even wondered if only my right arm is left in my whole body.My right arm may have been amputated as a result of this car accident.After the body was separated from the right arm, for unknown reasons, my soul concentrated on the right arm.I seemed to be lying on the hospital bed with my whole body, but it felt like I was lying still on the bed with only my right arm.Thinking of my own situation, it must be impossible for my daughter to recognize me as a father. My wife ran her fingertips up my right arm and asked me if I was sad not to have seen my daughter grow.I moved my index finger to confirm. "very sad?" On her arm she wrote ?Again I gave an affirmative answer. "Want to die?" I chose the affirmative answer without hesitation.Based on the messages she sent me, I appeared to be subsisting on artificial respirators and drips.As long as she reached out and turned off the switch of the artificial respirator, she should be able to liberate me from the pain. My wife's hand pulled away from my arm, leaving me in the dark again.Although I can't see it, I can guess that she is probably standing up from the chair now, and then she should go around the hospital bed and walk towards the artificial respirator, right? However, my wife touched my arm again to let me know those speculations were wrong.She didn't seem to get out of the chair, but kept sitting next to me. Judging from the shape of the contact surface, I knew that what she used to touch my arm was probably the palm of her left hand.But there is one thing about that touch that is different from before.When the palm of her left hand touched my arm, I didn't feel the cold ring touch that I usually feel on my skin.She may have taken the ring off.Before I could think about why, I felt her start to tap my skin. She seemed to be tapping with her fingers.It was said to be tapping, but the strength was not as strong as hitting the whole palm. It felt like she just raised a finger and tapped lightly on my skin.She seemed to be hesitating slightly, tapping the same place again and again with her fingers, which also made me think that this seemed to be a warm-up exercise before doing something. At first I thought my wife was sending me a message, but the tactile sensation of the fingers tapping continuously didn't seem to be waiting for my reply. At first there was only one finger tapping my skin, but it soon grew to two.It feels like a pair of index and middle fingers are tapping each other.As the sensation of the touch intensifies, I feel her begin to put more pressure on her fingers. The number of finger taps continued to increase, and the tactile sensations of each finger were connected in series.The last ten fingers bounced together on the skin of my arm.It feels like a series of little explosions on the skin.As soon as her strength weakened, I felt like rain was dripping on my arm.I get it, she's playing my arm like a piano. The part near the elbow is the bass keyboard, and the part near the wrist is the treble keyboard. Using this principle to feel the stimulation she brought me, I found that the touch of her fingers bouncing is really like music connected in series.The stimulation of a finger bouncing on the skin is just a single point.But when these points are connected in series, the stimulation on the arm becomes like waves. My arm seemed to become a vast skating rink.Suddenly, I felt the bouncing touch of my wife's fingers sliding straight from the elbow to the wrist. Unexpectedly, the next moment, the fingers returned from the wrist to the elbow as if running down the stairs.Sometimes multiple fingers tap on my skin like a resonance; sometimes ten fingertips lightly pass over my arm like a curtain swinging. From that day on, every time my wife came to the ward, she would play on my right arm.The original writing time has become a music class.She would write the title and composer's name on my arm before and after the performance.I memorized them immediately, and when I encountered a tune I liked, I moved my index finger.I wanted to applaud her, but I wasn't sure how she would interpret my gesture. I was in a darkness deeper than the sunless deep sea, in an absolute silence where there was no tinnitus.In this world, the music she played on my arm is the only bright window for me in my solitary room. Winter has come.It has been a year and a half since the accident. I don't know if my wife opened the window of the ward, and my right arm seemed to be exposed to the cold wind blowing in from outside, which made me jump.In the world of silent darkness, I have no way of knowing if someone approaches or opens a window, so I can't predict the cold wind that my arm will be exposed to.Presumably my wife wants to circulate the air in the ward.On the skin of my right arm I could feel the temperature in the room begin to drop. After a while, something cold touched my right arm.Probably my wife's finger again.Then she wrote a few words on my arm with her fingers. "Are you startled?". I wag my index finger once in affirmation.I can't know what kind of expression she showed after seeing my answer. Her fingers began to write again, and told me to start playing next, but let her warm her fingers before playing. A warm, moist wind blew against the skin of my arms.I figured she might be warming her fingers with her own breath, and that breath was blowing on my arm at the same time.As soon as the warm wind dies down, the performance begins. I have completely memorized the order, position, and timing of her fingers.Even if she played it without telling me the title, I could tell what it was right away.When I felt the movements of her fingers with my skin, I always felt as if I saw something on the other side of the darkness; sometimes it was a blurred mass of color, and sometimes it was a scene of happiness that I had personally experienced in the past. I never get tired of listening to the same performance over and over again; because her performance will have subtle differences on different days.After I had memorized the pieces by heart, the skin on my arms became very sensitive to slight timing errors and such.These errors will bring different imaginations, so the scene seen on the other side of the darkness will also be different from when I heard the same piece of music a few days ago. I don't know when I started, but I found that those subtle differences are the symptoms of my wife's heart.When she was calm, the touch of her fingers on my skin was as soft as the breath of sleeping.And when she's upset, there's a brief turmoil like rolling down a staircase.While playing, she couldn't hide any of her emotions, making me feel her naked (wow~~!) naked nature lurking in the stimulation I felt in my arms. At this time, my wife's performance suddenly stopped, and a warm breath caressed my arm again.I seem to be able to see her slender fingers that are red with cold from the other side of the darkness.After the breath blowing through my arms stopped, the playing started again. Her fingers bounce lightly from my elbow to my wrist.I felt as if I had been transported to the beach, with the waves lapping softly against my arms. I remembered that before my car accident, our husband and I had hurt each other with many words.This kind of humiliation makes my heart ache.I want to apologize to her, but the emotion is beyond words these days. I scolded God several times why he didn't just let me die.I was doomed to grow old in this state, to pass in darkness and silence for decades as I grew old until I died.Every time I think of this, I feel that I might as well be crazy. If I can be so crazy that I don't care about time and forget who I am, how comfortable will I feel? But I can neither move nor speak, the only thing I can do is think.But no matter how turbulent the thoughts in my mind are, I can't express what I see, hear and feel. I can only miss the light and sound all day long. I couldn't convey my thoughts to my wife or anyone else who might be pacing back and forth on the other side of the darkness.While I can use my index finger to say yes or no to the questions she has written on my arm, that alone is not enough.In the eyes of outsiders, I should be just a puppet lying on the bed with an expressionless face.In fact, my mind is often turbulent. Still, wiggling my index finger up and down is too small a vent to pour out my thoughts, and I can't laugh or cry even with all the complicated thoughts in my mind.This situation often makes me feel like a reservoir whose water level has risen to the limit, and it is really incredible that it has not exploded. Am I alive or not?I look like a thinking lump of meat at best.Where exactly is the line between a living person and a lump of flesh?And which side am I on? What did I live for?Could it be that I was born from my mother's womb, went to school, and got a job just to become the lump of meat I am now?Why do people come to this world, starting from crawling on the ground, living all the way to death? I wish I had never come into this world.Now I don't even have the ability to kill myself by myself.If there was a switch under my index finger that allowed venom to flow into my veins, I wouldn't hesitate to press it.But no one would be considerate enough to prepare such an institution for me, and I couldn't even ask others to prepare it for me. I really want to stop thinking, but my head keeps squirming in the silent darkness. It has been three years since the accident happened.My wife comes to the ward to accompany me every day.She writes on the skin of my arm, telling me today's date, what's happening at home, and world news.She never wrote any shrinking or timid words on my arms, and the words were mixed with messages from time to time that she would still be by my side in the future, which always gave me great courage. According to the information she brought, my daughter is four years old, and now she can run, jump, and talk.But I have no way of judging whether that is true or not?Even if my daughter has caught a cold and died, I have no way of knowing.Even if she gets the date wrong, if the house burns down, even if the world is destroyed; I can only take every word my wife writes. Still, one day I finally knew she was lying.It happened when she was playing on my right arm. The series of stimuli brought about by her bouncing fingers made me see a variety of different scenes.Perhaps it should be said that that was the imagination that came to her mind.From it, we can vaguely see her emotions, which may be much more real than the words she wrote on my arm. Once, I listened intently, as usual, to the silent music she played with her fingers.She plays with her fingers a tune I've heard hundreds of times.When I first listened to it, the slight beating touch of her fingertips made me think that this piece reminds people of a lively pony.But from her playing that day, I couldn't imagine the appearance of a pony at all.Maybe it's a subtle disturbance in the performance?Through her fingers, I can only imagine a tired horse stomping with its head bowed. I'm wondering if something happened to upset her.But from the words she wrote on my arm, there wasn't a trace of gloom, just something optimistic as usual that gave me courage.I couldn't ask about her condition, nor could I see the expression on her face, so I could only let the conflict between her performance and words pile up in my heart. But that wasn't the only time she played with ennui mixed in.Afterwards, no matter what piece she played, I couldn't feel a trace of cheerfulness in the melody intertwined on my skin. On the contrary, there was a suffocating despair with no future hidden.The difference is so subtle that I wouldn't notice it at all in normal times.Presumably even she herself thought that her playing was no different from usual, right? I knew she was tired, and obviously it was me.I can't become a lock to bind her.She is still young, no matter what, she still has a chance to start over in her life.It must be because I have turned into such a dying look that made her feel that she has no future at all. If she remarried with someone else, would people around her criticize her, or would they think it was a last resort?All in all, she just couldn't get rid of me, my husband who had become a walking dead, and came to the ward every day to use my right arm as a keyboard for virtual performances. But deep down she must be suffering.No matter how cheerful words are used to disguise, her fingertips always reveal her emotions without any concealment.The tired horse hiding in her performance may be the projection of her current situation. The rest of her life, which should still be full of opportunities, will be exhausted spending time with this lump of meat.I lost my life because of an accident, but why is it not the case for her who had to come to the ward to visit the doctor?It must be her kind heart that prevented her from abandoning me as a lump of meat. I don't know what to do with myself.I have to set her free.However, once she disappears, it means that I will be left alone in this dark and silent world.Besides, no matter what I thought, there was no way to convey it to her, everything could only be determined by her determination. Time flies, and it has been four years since the car accident.With the accumulation of time, the pain and depression in her performance have also increased day by day.Most people may not be able to feel this small change.But for me, her playing is now my world, so I can feel her pain very strongly. A day in February. She played a light tune on my arm.The touch of fingertips gently tapping on the surface of the skin reminds me of the scene of butterflies fluttering in the breeze.At first glance, it is a calm scene.But looking at the butterfly carefully, I felt that its wings seemed to be stained with blood.It is a butterfly with a fate that has nowhere to stop, no matter how painful it is, it has to keep flapping its wings to fly. After continuing to play for a while, she stopped and began to write on my arm during the break.That, of course, was another cheerful conversation that ran counter to the feeling of playing. "Nails are growing and I have to cut them." After she finished writing these words, she touched my index finger to let me confirm the length of her nails.I frantically moved my fingers, trying to get my fingers to touch her nails.I want her to pierce my skin and make me bleed, to send her the message that I want her to kill me. I hope she kills my miserable hunk of flesh.I wish she could end my life and let me be at ease.But my index finger is too weak to hold her nails.I couldn't push her finger back, and I couldn't vent my curse. However, my message seemed to get through slightly through my fingertips.I knew this fact when she started playing again. Her fingertips on my arms bounced off my skin as if scraping my chest.What she started playing on the keyboard in my arm was not the brisk melody just now, but a piece that seemed to fall into a bottomless abyss. The way she plays is very simple, and I think she is honestly bursting out the emotions hidden deep in her heart through her fingers.I can even feel the pain from scratching her nails on my skin.That kind of pain must be the distress that she must put her life on the scales with a husband who is like a walking corpse.Every time her fingertips touched my skin, my deaf ears seemed to hear her wail.What she's playing on my arm right now is more poignant and poignant than anything I've ever touched. After a while, the performance breaks off as if overstretched strings snap.In ten places on my skin I felt the pain of a sharp prick, probably the tips of my wife's ten fingers sticking up on my arm.Then a few drops of cold liquid dripped, and I knew it was her tears. After a while, the touch of the fingers disappeared, and she disappeared into the darkness.Maybe he left the ward and went somewhere?For a while, her fingers didn't come back to my skin.Although her fingertips were gone, the pain from the nails remained.When I was left alone in the silent darkness, I finally thought of a way to kill myself. Suddenly something touched my right arm.From the size of the contact area, I immediately realized that it was a hand.That hand is wrinkled and hard, and I can't feel my wife's love from its touch on my arm.Only then did I realize that it was the doctor's hand.The hand that I have felt so many times since I woke up from the darkness four years ago. I think she is going to call a doctor.It is conceivable that she may also be in the ward now, nervously waiting for the doctor to make a diagnosis. My right arm was lifted by the doctor, and the touch of the sheet disappeared from the side of the arm.I felt the doctor's hand take my index finger and bend my joints as if massaging me.Judging from the doctor's actions, he may be confirming whether there is any abnormality in the bone of my index finger. Then my right arm was put back on the sheet again, and the feeling of the doctor's touch disappeared into the darkness.After a while, the tip of the index finger passed through a burst of needle pricking pain.不过这并不出乎我的意料。我忍住疼痛，绝不让食指动一下。 昨晚我便下定决心。在夜晚结束，皮肤再次感受到从窗口射进来的朝阳时，我就要开始展开我的自杀行动。我太太一如往常地来到病房，以指尖在我的皮肤上写了“早安”，但我的食指丝毫没有动弹。 我太太一开始可能以为我还在睡觉。她的手离开了我的右臂，消失在黑暗深处。她可能打开了窗户，外头的空气吹拂着我的手臂。外头似乎很冷，我的皮肤所感受到的空气冷得几乎让人麻痹。我太太每天都会告诉我当天的日期，所以我知道现在是二月。我开始想像起她眺望窗外，吐着白雾的模样。 除非有人碰触我的手臂，否则失去视觉和听觉的我根本无从得知有人在病房里。但那天早上，我却能凭直觉感受到她打开窗户，坐在床边等着我醒来。我的食指感受到了她朝我投注而来的视线。但我的食指依旧动也不动，继续保持着沉默。 过了一会儿，我太太似乎把我的静止不动解读成一种异变。她轻拍我的右臂，接着开始在上头写起字来。 “老公，起床了。已经快中午了。” 这四年来，她所写的字在复杂度和速度上已经和用嘴说没什么差别了。透过我的皮肤，我也可以用如同用耳朵听到般的效率理解她的话。 我不理会她，没做出任何回应，于是她再度开始等我醒来。过了一会儿，她拍拍我的手臂试图叫醒我。她一再重覆这个动作，直到接近中午时，她才把医生叫来。 医生不只用针扎我的食指，也试过右手掌、小指关节、以及手腕等部位。但是我必须忍耐。 我不能在这时候忍不住痛，或者吓得动起食指。我必须让医生和我太太认为我已经没办法再动手指，也感受不到皮肤的刺激了。我必须让他们认为我已经成了一团完全无法与外界沟通的肉块。 过了一会儿，医生用针扎我的疼痛感觉消失了。我终于可以完全不活动食指，像块石头一样保持沉默。 有一阵子，右臂上感受不到任何人的触摸。我想大概是医生在向我太太做说明吧？经过了一段漫长的时间，一个温柔的手掌触感压上了我的右臂。无需寻找戒指冰冷的触感，我也知道那是我太太的手。 她把我的右手向上翻转，将两根手指头戳在我的皮肤上。从位置和触感来判断，我知道那是她的食指和中指，我觉得这两根手指头彷佛从黑暗深处浮现的两点亮光，指尖造成的两点触感十分模煳。我感觉到这两根手指正沿着我的手臂表面从手肘滑向手腕。 这时一阵毛发般纤细的触感落在我的手臂上，接着一大片轻柔的触感覆盖了上来。我的手掌感觉到一股湿濡柔和的压迫感，我立刻就明白，她将她的脸颊贴上了我的手臂。在黑暗中，我彷佛看到了她跪在床边，将脸庞贴在我右手手掌上的模样。 从她口中吐出的热气轻轻地吹拂在我手腕表面，彷佛在手臂上攀爬似的轻抚过我的皮肤。然而气息一过了手肘，就消失在黑暗中了。 “老公，动动你的手指头好吗？” 这时脸颊的触感从我手上消失，只感觉到她的指尖在我的手背上写着： “难道你真的如医师所说，连手指都没办法动了吗？” 她如此询问道，接着停顿了一下等待我的反应。I continued to remain silent.于是她又继续在我手臂上写起字来，内容是从医生那边听来的诊断报告。 医生似乎不想再去考虑如何让我用食指回话了。他无法判断我是不是已经恶化到全身麻痹的状态，抑或只是手指头无法动弹，而皮肤的感觉仍然存在？医生对她说，也可能我的心已经被黑暗给打败，因此对来自外界的刺激不再有任何感觉了。 “老公，其实你还是有感觉的，对不对？而且你的手指头也还可以动。” 我太太颤抖不已的指尖缓缓在我手臂上写着。我在一片黑暗静寂的世界里凝视着这些字。 "You're lying to me." 几滴可能是泪水的东西滴落在我手臂表面，让我忆起从屋檐上滴落的雨水。 “你只是装死而已，对不对？老公，如果你再继续忽略我的感受，我就真的不再来了。” 她的手指离开了我的手臂，彷佛在静待我的答覆。我的食指可以感受到她投射过来的视线。 看到我的手指依旧一动也不动，她又开始在我手臂上写起字来。她的指尖渐渐加速移动，从中可以感受到她死命祈求上苍的真诚。 “求求你，请回答我。否则我就不再当你的老婆了。” 她的指尖如此写道。在黑暗的另一头，我彷佛看到她在哭泣。我没有摆动我的食指。在这片静寂的世界里，这下甚至能鲜明地感受到一股弥漫在我们夫妇之间的沉默。最后她的手指无力地搁在我的手臂上。 “对不起。谢谢你。” 她的指尖在我的皮肤上缓缓游移，最后离开了我的手臂，融入一片黑暗当中。 之后我太太还是继续到病房来探望我，在我的手臂上演奏。但是不再是每天，而是两天才来一次。不久之后就变成三天一次。到了最后，她变成一个星期才来探望我一次了。 沉重的痛苦从她在我手臂上弹奏的音乐当中消失了。接连跳跃的指头，让我感觉彷佛有只小狗在我的手臂上跳舞。 有时我可以从她的演奏中感受到一丝罪恶感。我立刻就发现到她似乎觉得对我有所亏欠。我并不希望她有这种感觉，但不可思议的是，这种感觉却加深了她演奏的深度。我隐约可以从手臂上演奏的无声音乐中，窥见她向命运乞怜的美丽倩影。 演奏前后，她依然会在手臂上写字和我沟通，但是我完全没有回应。她似乎一点也不在意，依旧一个劲儿地用指尖向我这团不发一语的肉块报告近况。 某天，我的右臂感觉到有个人正战战兢兢地触摸着我。我在黑暗中集中起精神，试图辨识出这个人的身分。这只手比我太太的要小很多，而且非常柔软，我感觉到这只手旁边还放着我十分熟悉的太太的手。这下我顿时发现，这是我女儿的小手。 在我的记忆里，女儿还只是一个必须让妈妈抱在胸前的小婴儿。但她在我的手臂上触摸的方式并不是婴儿那种没有个人意识的碰触，而是一种对一团不发一语、躺在床上的肉块抱持某种恐惧，同时又夹杂一丝好奇的触摸方式。 “最近我开始教这个孩子弹钢琴了。” 我太太在手臂上如此写道，接着她的手就离开了我的皮肤，只剩下女儿还在触摸着我。 和大人的手指相比，女儿的指头似乎比较纤细，指尖也比较尖。她的手指戳在我皮肤上的感触，让我觉得彷佛有只小猫竖起爪子站在我的手臂上。 这些手指开始笨拙地演奏起来。感觉像只竖起指尖的小猫在我手臂上或跳或滚。她弹的曲子简单得不足以与我太太弹的比拟，但我的脑海里却不由得浮现出她认真弹奏的模样。 之后她们母女俩仍然经常到病房来探视我，在我的手臂上演奏。随着岁月流逝，她的演奏技巧也越来越高明。透过在我手臂表面跃动的指尖触感，我可以感觉出女儿的个性十分开朗，有时她那充满野性并喜新厌旧的性格也会流露在她的演奏当中。透过女儿在我手臂上编织出来的世界，或许比亲眼目睹更能深入观察到她的成长。 不久女儿上小学了。她尖尖的指尖戳在我的手臂上，小心翼翼地缓缓写下。 "dad." 那是孩子特有的歪七扭八的字迹，但女儿确实是这么写的。 又过了一段漫长的时间。不再有人告诉我过了多少年月，我也无从得知正确的日期。记不得从什么时候开始，我太太也不再来探望我了；同时我女儿也没再出现了。 我不知道我太太发生了什么事，或许她只是忘了过来而已。没有人告诉我她的情况，我也只能凭想像猜测。在她忙着讨生活的当儿，如果还能想起我这个变成一团肉块的丈夫，我就很高兴了。我最希望的，就是她能将我完全遗忘，不再和这团不发一语的肉块有任何牵连。 最后一次听到女儿在我手臂上演奏的时候，她的程度已经好到跟我太太不相上下了。她已经很久没来病房了，我相信她应该已经长大成人，也或许已经结婚，生下我的外孙了。我无从判断已经过了多少时间，因此也无法知道女儿现在已经几岁了。 我连自己有多老都不知道了。我甚至在想，说不定我太太已经老死了。 我置身一片黑暗静寂的世界里，阳光也不再照上我那被搁在床单上的手臂，或许我已经连床被移进一间没有窗户的病房里了。尽管如此，我至少知道世界还没有毁灭，因为自己还靠着人工呼吸器和点滴过活。 我想像着自己可能像个被遗弃的赘物般被弃置在医院的一角。这里大概是个类似仓库的房间，而我的周遭或许堆满了各种满是尘埃的东西吧？ 再也没有人来触摸我的手臂了。医生和护士都忘了我的存在，而我自己也认为这样也无所谓。偶尔我会使一下力，我的食指还是可以上下活动。 我的手臂上还残留着老婆和女儿演奏时的触感。我在黑暗中回想着那种感觉，想像着如今外界可能正在发生些什么事。人们依然在唱着歌吧？依然在聆赏着音乐吧？在我被视为一团沉默的肉块而被弃之不顾后，时间依然一分一秒地不停流逝。我虽然身处一片静寂的黑暗，然而在这段日子里，世界是否依然充斥着声音与光亮？我梦想着那永远无法再看到的光景，静静地委身于黑暗之中。