Chapter 3 third quarter

Soon everyone was gone, leaving me alone in front of the locker room, and I took another look at Emili.The tight-fitting black T-shirt was rolled up to the chest, and the pink English words "Barbie" on it could hardly be seen, revealing a white belly and breasts that were beginning to swell. The red checkered pleated skirt was also rolled up, and the lower body was exposed. No panties. Although I'm just here to watch, but I think if an adult comes over and sees this state, he may reprimand me for not knowing how to tidy up poor Emili.Even though it wasn't me who made Emily suffer this fate, I walked into the locker room fearful of being blamed.

Emili's eyes were wide open, and liquid was seeping from his mouth and nose.I tried not to look at her, covered her face with my handkerchief, grabbed the hem of the T-shirt with my fingertips and pulled it down, and then pulled down the skirt.When I bent down, I found a crumpled pair of underwear on the bottom shelf of the closet. What about underwear?Tops and skirts can be arranged without touching the body, but underwear cannot.I looked at Emily's long, white legs sticking out in a figure-splayed shape under her short skirt, and noticed that between them, blood was running down her thighs.

At that moment, I was suddenly terrified and ran out of the locker room quickly. I knew Emily was dead, but I was able to straighten her clothes, probably because she was strangled and didn't bleed.When I came out of the locker room, the swimming pool in front of me suddenly became very scary. I was so frightened that my legs went weak.In the blink of an eye, the sun has set and the wind has started to pick up.I looked at the rippling water and felt as if I was going to be sucked in. Every year I heard that if you swim in the Obon Festival, your feet will be hooked by spirits. Surrounded by hallucinations—would Emilia suddenly sit up and push me into the pool and take me with her?I closed my eyes, plugged my ears, hugged my head and squatted on the ground, screaming heart-piercingly.

Why didn't I faint?If I had been able to lose consciousness as I wished, my situation would probably be different now. I don't know how long it took, but you, Ms. Mazi, ran over first.You should remember everything after that, so here I will just briefly write about myself. Yuka returns with the police.After a while, my mother also came.Seeing that I hadn't come home for a long time, she was very worried. When she heard the noise, she also ran to carry me home.I didn't start crying until I got home, louder than my heart-piercing yells. My mother didn't immediately ask what happened, but let me lie on the mat, brought me cold barley tea, rubbed my back gently, and muttered in her mouth, "Fortunately, it's not Saying." In the back of my mind, lingering.I closed my eyes and fell into a deep sleep.

There should be no difference between what I wrote here and the testimonies afterwards.Although we encountered such a tragic event, we still provided sufficient testimony, but the four of us couldn't remember the one issue that needed to be clarified the most. For this, I still feel deeply guilty. What happened that day can come to my mind as clearly as a TV image, only the appearance of that man I can't remember anyway. "He had a white towel wrapped around his head." "He was wearing gray overalls." "What? Isn't it light green?" "Age? It looks about forty or fifty."

Although I can recall the overall outline, I can't recall the facial features.When asked whether they are tall or short, fat or thin, round or pointed face, big or small eyes, what does the nose look like, what are the characteristics of the mouth, what are the eyebrows like, are there any moles or scars? , we all shook our heads. There is only one thing that is unquestionable - "it is someone who has never seen it before". The murder has been discussed for a long time in this small town.An uncle among relatives came to ask me about the whole story out of curiosity, but was scolded by my mother.During this time, people in the town began to discuss the French doll incident, thinking that perhaps there were perverts in this town or neighboring towns who were interested in young girls. Not satisfied with stealing the French dolls, they killed the little girls who were as cute as dolls. girl.Topics like this are being passed on with great fanfare.

Soon, the police visited the family where the doll was stolen again. After that, most people began to think that the two things were done by the same person, and the pervert who was interested in the young girl was the criminal. But I didn't take it seriously, because among the few girls at that time, the one whose appearance fit the word "young girl" best was me. Afterwards, as soon as I was free, Emily's corpse would appear in my mind. Although it was a black and white image, the blood that flowed to my thigh was bright red and dazzling. Then Emili's face gradually turned into my face. At this time, my head Started to ache.I pressed my head, and there was only one thought in my mind-fortunately it wasn't me.What a flippant thought, some might think.

I don't know what the other three people think, maybe some will express sympathy, saying "Emily is so pitiful", some will feel guilty, blaming themselves for not being able to save Emiri, but, just because I am worried about my situation, Just exhausted. Thankfully it's not me!But then a question arises, why Emilia?For this question, I have a clear answer in my heart - among the five people, only Emili has become an adult, so she was abused by men and was eventually killed. The man, the suspect, was looking for a mature girl in bud. A month has passed, half a year, a year has passed, and the criminal is still not found.You came back to Tokyo for the third year after the incident, right?I think you have noticed that I am writing this letter for the purpose of the time.

Afterwards, the people in the town gradually forgot about this incident, but the fear in my heart grew day by day.Although I can't remember what the criminal looks like, maybe the criminal remembers what I look like and may kill me or a few other children next time.After the incident, the adults around us still cared about us, but now they are gradually forgetting. Maybe the criminals committed crimes again while waiting for only a few of us to be active. I fell into the illusion that no matter what I was doing, the criminal was everywhere, watching my every move through cracks in windows, behind buildings, in cars.

Scared, scared, scared, not wanting to be killed.to this end…… - I don't want to be an adult. Even though I sometimes feel a certain kind of sight, as time goes by, the number of times I think about it gradually decreases.Maybe it's because I chose to join the most demanding brass band in the literary and art clubs in middle school, and I was busy practicing all day long. However, neither my body nor my mind escaped the murder.Realized this, no, it should be said that I was forced to realize this when I was seventeen and in my second year of high school. At this age, I haven't had my period yet.No matter how small you are, isn't it a little strange not to have your period yet?My mother said that this may be due to individual differences, but it is better to go to the hospital to have a look, so I went to the obstetrics and gynecology department of the county hospital in a neighboring town.

It takes a certain amount of courage for high school students to enter and exit the obstetrics and gynecology department.I have always avoided menstruation. Although I vaguely understand the reason in my heart, it is still hard to imagine that I will not have menstruation because of this.Thinking that it would be terrible if I had some gynecological disease, I finally mustered up the courage to walk into the hospital. There is also a private maternity hospital in the town, but I don't want people in the town to see me going in and out of that kind of place anyway.Usually, not to mention dating boys, I seldom talk, and it would be unbearable to attract people's comments, so I didn't go to the hospital in the town. No special abnormality was found in the examination results, only that it may be due to mental factors. The doctor asked me if I felt any pressure at school or at home. It dawned on me when I learned that spiritual reasons can lead to non-period or suspension of menstruation.Being an adult will kill you, menstruation will kill you—at first I thought this consciously, and gradually I unconsciously gave this hint to my body.Even if I don't think about it anymore, deep down in my heart, I can't extricate myself from it. The hospital recommended me to go for psychological counseling or regular hormone injections. I made an excuse to discuss such things with my parents, but I never went to the hospital after returning home.I told my mother that there was nothing abnormal, but that the time was delayed. I think that before the statute of limitations (the legal period for the judiciary to pursue the criminal responsibility of criminals. The crimes that have passed the statutory statute of limitations will no longer be investigated for criminal responsibility.) Before the arrival, it would be better not to have menstruation at all. Even if you leave the small town and live among people who don't know about the murder, you may encounter criminals.However, if my body has not yet become an adult, I will be safe, and I want to have this feeling of peace of mind. Gradually, rather than looking forward to the criminal being caught, I hope that the statute of limitations will come soon so that I can get rid of the shadow of that incident. This has nothing to do with my agreement with you. However, I never dreamed that I would meet you again. After graduating from a women's university majoring in English, I worked for a mid-tier fuel company.There is a custom there that no matter whether the major of new employees is science or liberal arts, they will be assigned to the inspection room for the first two years to understand the products that the company handles. After high school chemistry class, it was the first time I came into contact with test tubes and beakers, and it was the first time I saw laboratory instruments worth tens of millions.Even if you explain to me that the square box-shaped machine is a gas chromatograph or a liquid chromatograph, I don't understand its purpose at all, but the logo on the corner of the fuselage is familiar. Adachi Manufacturing Factory, a factory located in a small country town with clean air originally produced this kind of thing.While feeling very friendly, a sense of disgust surged in my heart, as if I hadn't escaped the ambush of that small town and met here unexpectedly.As soon as I started working, I fell into an indescribable state of mind.