Chapter 12 Chapter 10

About five days after Smith died, I moved into his room.I felt miserable all that day.It was cold; there was wet snow, half of it raindrops.It wasn't until evening, just for a split second, that the sun came out, and a ray of confusion The sunshine on the way, probably out of curiosity, peeked into my room.I'm starting to regret that I shouldn't have moved here.Then again, the room was quite large, but it was too short, and it was sooty black, with a musty smell, although it was somewhat The furniture was similar, but it seemed empty and unpleasant.I thought at the time that I must destroy the last sliver of my health in this room.As expected.

That morning, I had been sorting out my manuscripts and putting them into categories.Since I didn't have a briefcase, I had to stuff them in a pillow case when I moved; everything was crumpled up and messed up.later i sit Come down and write.I was still working on my big novel; but my mind was in a mess, and it was not going well; what was going on in my head was not the same...   I put down my pen and sat down by the window.The twilight is getting thicker, but my heart is getting more and more desolate.Distressing thoughts flooded in, trapping me in the middle.I always feel that I must be ruined in Petersburg in the end.Spring is coming; I think if

If I can break out of this small dwelling and go to the big world to breathe the fresh air of fields and forests, maybe I can be revived from death and regain my vitality: and I have not seen fields and forests for a long time! ... I remember, and I still had a whim, such as It would be great if I could use a spell or some miracle to make me forget everything I have experienced and felt in recent years; forget everything, refresh my mind, and start everything from scratch with energy. OK.when At that time, I still had fantasies about it, hoping to be able to resurrect from the dead. "It's not bad to go to a madhouse," I finally decided, "as long as I can find a way to turn my whole brain over, rearrange it, and then get out of the hospital when I'm sick."

Desire to live and believe in life!But, I remember, I couldn't help but laugh out loud. "What will you do after you get out of the lunatic asylum? Do you still write novels?..." I spent time daydreaming like this, and at the same time, time passed slowly.Night gradually fell.I made an appointment to see Natasha that evening; she had written me a note the night before to make sure I went to see her .I jumped up, got dressed, and got ready to go out.Even if she didn't tell me to go, I wanted to rush out of this room and go anywhere, even if it was in the rain or in the mud.

As the darkness gradually fell, the house I lived in seemed to grow larger and larger, expanding in all directions.I couldn't help thinking that I must see Smith every night and around every corner: he would sit there, watching me without moving. , like sitting in that grocery store watching Adam Ivanovic.At his feet lay Azorka.At this moment, I encountered a thing that surprised me. But I should confess frankly that, from my neurasthenia, perhaps from the new feelings I had in my new residence, or perhaps from my recent depression, I have been slowly and gradually sinking into the depression I was in when I was ill. late at night now

The state of mind that often comes upon me, which I call mystical terror.It's a fear of something, it weighs so heavy on me, it makes me so miserable, what it is, I can't even name it, it's unimaginable , which is hardly possible in the normal state, but which must, perhaps at this very moment, take shape, come towards me as if blatantly mocking all reason that reason can give, and stand like an indisputable fact In front of me, Eerie and terrifying, with a blue face and fangs, an iron face and a ruthless face.In spite of all the reasons given by reason for my need not to be afraid, the fear generally grew stronger and stronger, so that at last, though reason may have been clearer by this time,

Reason is gradually losing any power to resist this feeling.This kind of feeling does not listen to the reasons put forward by reason at all, and reason gradually becomes useless. This kind of spiritual fission deepens the anxiety of fear of something happening.I felt This distress is a bit like the living being afraid of the dead.But in my distress, the uncertainty of exactly what kind of danger will occur only intensifies my inner pain. I remember standing there, with my back to the door, about to pick up my top hat from the table, when an idea occurred to me: If I turned around, I would see Smith at once: first he lightly Gently pushed open the door, stood in the doorway,

He took a look at the room; then lowered his head, walked in gently, stood in front of me, stared at me with his cloudy eyes, and suddenly laughed at me, and he opened his toothless mouth , laughing inaudibly, laughing back and forth He would laugh and laugh for a long time.All this, which I saw in a trance, suddenly appeared in my imagination very vividly and clearly, and at the same time, I suddenly established a very full, Very firm confidence: all this must inevitably happen, and has already happened, just because my back is turned to the door, I can't see it, and at this very moment, the door may have been opened.I quickly turned around to see, how come?

thing? --the door did open, softly and silently, exactly as I had imagined it to be a minute ago.I exclaimed, no one appeared for a long time, as if the door opened automatically; suddenly, a strange figure appeared at the door; As far as I can see in the dark, I can see that this person's eyes are fixed on me, looking at me.I was terrified all over.To my horror, I saw that it was a child, a little girl, and if this were the ghost of Smith, it would not It frightened me so much—at this very moment, in my room, a child whom I didn't know appeared strangely and unexpectedly, and I couldn't help but turn pale with fright.

As I have already said, she opened the door noiselessly and slowly, as if afraid to come in.After her body appeared, she stood at the door, staring at me in amazement, almost blankly, for a long time; finally, she moved forward gently and slowly. He took two steps, stopped in front of me, and still didn't say a word.I saw her more clearly.This is a little girl of twelve or thirteen years old, with a small stature, a thin body, and a pale complexion, as if recovering from a serious illness.that makes her The big black eyes became brighter.In her left hand she carried an old shawl full of holes to cover her breasts which were still shivering from the cold of the night.The clothes on her body can be called a pile of rags; her thick black hair has not been combed.

Reasonable, disheveled.We stood looking at each other like this for about two minutes. "Where's Grandpa?" she finally asked in a barely audible, hoarse voice, as if she had a lung or throat problem. As soon as she began to speak, my mystical horror melted away.She comes to Smith; unexpectedly he turns up. "Your grandfather? He's dead!" I said suddenly, not expecting her to ask this question, so I wasn't ready to answer it, but I regretted it as soon as I said it.She stood in the original position for about a minute, and suddenly trembled all over. , and trembling violently, as if a dangerous nervous attack was brewing in her.I hurried over to help her, not to let her fall.After a few minutes she was better, and I could clearly see that she was making a remarkable effort to hide from me The excitement inside her. "Forgive me, please forgive me, little friend! Please forgive me, my boy!" I said, "I may have made a mistake in talking to you in a rash way... Poor boy! . . . Who are you looking for?" ? The old man who lives here?" "Yes," she whispered with difficulty, looking at me uneasily. "His name is Smith? Isn't it?" "Yes, it is!" "Then he . , died of a sudden illness...then you are his Granddaughter? " The little girl didn't answer my hurried, rambling questions.She turned around silently and walked out of the room lightly.I was in such a state of shock that I neither retained her nor questioned her further.She stopped at the door Come, half turned to me, and asked: "Is Azorka dead too?" "Yes, Azorka is dead too," I answered, which seemed strange to me: it seemed that she was convinced that Azorka must die with the old man.After the little girl heard my answer, she walked out of the room silently, cautiously Wingly closed the door behind him. A minute later, I ran out and chased her, I felt so sorry, how could I let her go!She went out very quietly, so I didn't hear her open the other door leading to the stairs.I thought she hadn't time to go downstairs, so I stood Listen in the outhouse.But everything was quiet, and no one's footsteps could be heard.I only heard a door slam shut somewhere downstairs, and everything returned to silence. I hurried downstairs.The stairs are directly opposite my door, from the fifth floor to the fourth floor, spiraling down; below the fourth floor, it goes straight up and down.The stairs are dirty and dark, always dark, and in those small apartment buildings, the stairs always like this.It was dark on the stairs by this time.I groped my way down to the fourth floor and stopped when I suddenly had an idea that there must be someone in the corridor room here, and they were avoiding me.So I reached out and touched; and there the little girl was, Face to the wall, hiding in a corner, crying silently. "I said, what are you afraid of?" I said, "I frightened you, it was my fault. Your grandfather mentioned you when he died; these are his last words... I still have some books, Probably yours. What's your name? Where do you live? He said In Liutiao..." But I didn't finish my sentence.With a cry of surprise, as if I knew where she lived, she pushed me away with her bony hand and hurried downstairs.I followed her; I could still hear her steps below.suddenly feet The footsteps stopped... When I ran outside, she was gone.I ran along Shengtian Avenue, and after running for a while, I found that my search was in vain: she was missing.I thought: "What was she probably doing when she went downstairs?" place to hide.