Chapter 12 trial

I walked to the door, stopped and looked at the sky. There is still nothing in the depths of the sky, it is empty and extremely peaceful. They covered my head.The conversation was far away, and I seemed to be left alone in the car.The car raced faster and faster until it stopped abruptly.The firecrackers exploded crowded outside the window, a leader gave a short speech, I was pushed out of the car and walked all the way.The camera clicked and clicked.Everything has sharp horns and wants to hit me, but the road ahead is always empty, and I feel like I am being pushed into a lonely pond in the night.

After the cloth cover was lifted, I saw walls surrounded by an iron door and a small window closed tightly.They showed me a piece of paper for me to sign, and then handcuffed me to an iron ring.So I was forced to stand on tiptoe all the time.I protested loudly, and they put irons on my feet.I decided not to ask any more. Because my body kept sinking, I painstakingly allocated the right to rest. Sometimes I wronged my hands to relax my legs and feet, and sometimes it was the other way around.I once yelled "I want to pee", and there was a buzzing voice outside the door: "Peed." I pissed, and the urine rushed down my pants, thighs, and overflowed from between my toes, like a bottle of hot milk being spilled up.I'm being watched, there must be a hidden camera.I simply farted a few times, shooting phlegm on the wall, and sometimes lip-smacking.I still can't fall asleep.I began to envy people who hung from beams or were knocked to the ground.

As time fell, they uncuffed me and I collapsed.They dragged me into a dark room, put me on a low chair, and disappeared.I was about to go to sleep when a light flicked on in front of me, startling me.It's like a photographic backlight, searing my face and forcing me to squint.The fluorescent lamp on the wall was turned on, but the wattage was very low, and the weak light fell on a thick silver hair like a waterfall.I saw only a silhouette of the other party, sitting high above, eating something, click-tsk tongue, sucking fingers from time to time.The grilled wings should be eaten while it is hot. Once it is cold, the oil will stagnate and the color, flavor and flavor will be lost.I have some sympathy for him.

The hot image hits the brain from time to time like an electric current, but the sweat can't come out.I really want to die.A couple of times I tried to ask when it was okay to start, but it was so fucked up, like a woman can't say to a criminal, when can you rape me. He ate a total of twelve (he must have diarrhea when he goes back at night), and then he said slowly, "Name." Then came the birth, place of origin, address, and education background. The short questions were like a bell ringing again and again.Almost there, he asked again: "Birth." I said it again. "you sure?"

"Sure." Later I realized that he was entangled in this because he was afraid that I was not yet eighteen years old.He picked my teeth with a toothpick until I was about to fall, and then said: "You should know that resistance is useless." "I know." "Then do you know why we are looking for you?" I feel like there is no more stupid question than this.They mobilized many people and planned for a long time. They invited experienced old policemen to design the interrogation environment and arrange the details of the interrogation according to psychology.I said angrily, "I killed Kong Jie. I killed Kong Jie brutally. I killed many knives. The blood flowed like a river."

"Write it down," he said.I just realized that there was a policeman in the corner.From the rustling sound of the pen, I can tell that they are excited beyond restraint.In order to go to bed early, I rushed to answer everything they asked from now on, including how to deceive, how to kill, how to deal with, how to escape, etc., just like a rich man giving all his money to his tenants.Then I said, "Water." "Why did you kill her?" "water." "If you answer, we will give you water." I suddenly felt that this was a shameful transaction and became dignified.When they said "please tell me", I turned my head and waited for the water to arrive without looking at it.Then they lifted the bottle cap and wanted to feed, I raised my head high.The old man said: "Even if we don't have a statement from you, we can still convict you as long as the evidence is sufficient."

"Let's make it soon, then." The old man tapped his pen awkwardly for a while, then waved his hand.The police next to me came over with the transcript and showed it to me.I said no.I signed and signed it, and he said that I still need to read it, so I wrote on it: I have seen it all, and it is accurate. Soon I was taken back to the family courtyard of the military academy.The police pulled up a very long cordon, but they still couldn't hold back the onlookers.Wherever I went, they flocked like I was a captured beast.I smiled and scanned it.The gesture enraged a middle-aged man who leaped across the crowd, raised the stick, and lashed at me with unprecedented morality.I struggled violently, trying to meet him.The person in front of him retreated like a tide, while he froze.

The leaves are turning yellow. In the past, I didn't know how the leaves were growing and the leaves were falling, but now the leaves are yellow.This should be the last time it turns yellow.The old man He, the neighbor, walked ahead silently and vigorously, with dust flying under his feet.When there are corners or stairs, he will show his right hand to remind the back.After completing his mission as a public security activist, he still didn't leave, but followed him, as if he would ask him for anything at any time, but in fact, it was just this matter, and he didn't need to bother him.

I walked to the door, stopped and looked at the sky.There is still nothing in the depths of the sky, it is empty and extremely peaceful.I think this is a sign that death is about to happen. In the room I lived in, the curtains on both sides were closed tightly, the washing machine was placed by the door, and the transparent glue was torn off and stuck to the wall.They turned on the lights, gave me a plastic mannequin and a plastic dagger, and said let's go.I don't know how to start, they say start killing people.Since there was no trouser pocket, I inserted the dagger into the trousers, then hugged the model from behind, covering its nose and mouth.I froze and they said "go ahead".

"It should be struggling, hard." "Shake it yourself." I shook it, whispered to it, let go, tore off the transparent glue, stuck to it for a while, tore off its mouth again, and then yelled violently.Shocked, they surrounded me and caught me.I said, "It's screaming." "This step can be omitted." "It can't be saved." I screamed again, acting extremely flustered like an actor, covering its mouth, drew out the dagger, and stabbed it in the waist and abdomen.Sadly, it slid aside like an impotence.But I still stabbed a few times.I dragged it to the window, opened the curtains with a knife, put down the mannequin, and retched against the wall.Then squatted down, scratched its face, and stabbed at its body.That's when I feel lost (like a washerwoman with a mallet in a daze).I saw a huge shadow on the wall, followed by a frenzied stab like it was real.The shadow kept reproducing this scene, and the depths of my memory kept twitching.

The limp dagger broke. Then I picked it up, put it upside down in the washing machine, and said, "I think it's a switchblade, I remember." I thought I had to go to that fishy city to identify another scene, but They said no.The policeman who fell off the car was fatal, and nothing serious happened. The second interrogation was transferred to the conference room. The red table reflected the morning light, and a policewoman made me tea.They sat across from each other with notebooks and video cameras, as if they were going to have a meeting.I can see that the old man's face is like a heavy stone, with pitted skin and internal organs (especially the nose has only two protruding nostrils).Perhaps he had been a leper.It is such an ugly person with a pair of cold eyes that almost smashed my internal organs.I think that's how it was the first time I interrogated him, and I'm sure I'll explain everything. I looked down, holding my teacup, and looked at the chain between the handcuffs. "Head up." I look up. "look at me." I was forced to look him in the eyes and felt like I was melting.Like a pile of dry wood burning, my body made a crackling sound, and then the cup shook, and hot water splashed out, scalding me.It is difficult for me to describe this experience, and you may not believe it when I say it.I felt like I was walking into a tunnel, and he waved as he receded toward the bright opening, and I followed silently, like it was the only thing necessary.If he repeats the last question at this time, I will definitely tell the whole story, but he just asks me to repeat the details of the crime.I told those things again.Text messages, whispers, struggles, scotch tape, switchblades, curtains, washing machines.He nodded from time to time, and the policeman next to him solemnly recorded, and his eyes became gentle, as if encouraging me to continue.But I'm bored.I hate saying the same thing several times. He said, "What else?" I said, "No more." I felt that I had completed the task, so I threw myself on the table and fell asleep.A policeman came over to grab my head, and I shook him back and forth angrily.The old man waved his hand: "We are reasonable." Then he said, "You said you put her upside down in the washing machine. I want to ask you, why?" "No reason." "Okay, let me ask you again, was she dead when you put her down in front of the window?" "Should be dead." "you sure?" "Not sure, but I think she should be dead." "Since she's already dead, why did you stab her another thirty-seven times?" "No reason." "Do you know? Our old forensic doctor never vomited or shed tears at the scene, but after watching this scene, she was terrified and hospitalized. Kong Jie's blood filled half of the washing bucket. The old forensic doctor said that she I've never seen a person harbor such a great hatred for another person." Speaking of this, he rubbed his eyelids, "What kind of hatred do you have with her?" "No hate." "impossible." "Really do not have." "If not, why did you kill her so cruelly?" "No reason." He flung the teacup on the floor, startling his colleagues.He leaned over halfway, knocked on the table, and growled at me: "What is not why?" I lowered my head, feeling a little uneasy, but I knew that he had lost both in terms of momentum and technique, and he was clearly on the wrong track. "Say it." He continued to knock on the table. "have nothing to say." He came over, lifted my collar, and swung his fist to beat me.I'm not scared at all.If he hits the left cheek, I will also send the right cheek. The winner will not lose his temper.His colleagues persuaded him.It took a long time for him to calm down, as if he was talking to me, or chatting with others, saying that he had a son as old as me, who did not do well in the college entrance examination, dared not go home, fooled around outside, and was found by him Come and beat me hard, but beating the other party is beating myself, "After the beating is over, I feel that there is nothing unforgivable, and there is nothing difficult in life." He fell into his own emotions and looked at me with teary eyes: "We should get through this difficulty together. Son, do you really have any problems with her?" "No." "No, why did you stab her thirty-seven times after she died?" "You do not understand." "Is it because you like her and she doesn't like you?" "no." "Has she ever humiliated you mercilessly?" "No." "why?" I looked him straight in the eye and said, "I'd love to know too." Blood splashed across his face, making it as gloomy as a powder keg.Trembling, he walked to the TV cabinet and fetched the photo frame.His hands were trembling, and he stammered, "Tell me, who is he?" "My dad." Dad's eyes were dry and his skin was thin to the bone. At that time, he was in the terminal stage of cancer, but he put on a huge smile for the camera.I thought about his whole life, growing up, studying, digging coal, getting married, having children, getting sick, and dying.It could even be simpler, birth, death.It's the same with everyone, the old man who's at an interrogation standoff, and me next to him. He shook the photo frame and said excitedly, "Do you know who raised you up?" I didn't answer. "It's him." Then he said, "Do you know what happened to him to support you?" "Cancer." He answered himself again, and then he talked about the pity of the world's parents, and finally concluded with one sentence: "Are you worthy of him?" "I'm sorry." He turned his face to the people present at the table: "Do you think so? Who doesn't have parents, can doing such a thing be worthy of their spirits in heaven?" Those people were stunned, and then agreed one after another.I think this game is too low level.Then he put the portrait upright in front of me, asking me to repent, and said, "Can you share your heart with him?" "Can't." I feel like all the cops except him are happy with that answer.I smiled and emphasized again: "No." The second-in-command inspector fell back on the seat, steaming like a steam engine, and kept saying, beast, beast.I know the interrogation is almost over.Soon he really stood up, waved his hand, and shouted at me with great anger: "Get out."