She sat in a corner, trying to breathe in some air.There was still a lot of air in the room just now, and now there seems to be not much.She seemed to hear faint breathing from far away, and she knew it was the sound of air sliding into her throat and being sent out again after a series of excited gasps.But that didn't change the feeling that she was drowning in the corner of the room.She stared at the torn paperback.It was a novel she was reading when her husband came home. She doesn't care much about these.Excessive pain made her indifferent to breathing, just like a whale devouring her body, the pain was biting her bit by bit; it was like a poisoned sun, trembling and emitting blazing heat in her body of light.A few minutes ago there was just a sense of stillness, of growing life.

In the back of her memory, there is no kind of pain that can be compared with the present, even counting the accident that happened when she was thirteen years old.At that time, she was riding a bicycle on a potholed road and turned sharply to avoid a big pothole. Because of the sharp U-turn, the body lost her balance. She fell heavily on the asphalt road and broke her head.The wound required eleven stitches.All she could remember of the accident was a violent tremor, followed by stars in her eyes, and then she was overwhelmed by darkness.Actually it was just a brief blackout.And that kind of pain is definitely not the same as the pain that cannot be added now.She put her hands on her belly, stroking the skin that no longer looked like flesh, feeling as if the zipper had been unzipped on the belly, and the fetus inside was replaced by a hot stone.

Oh god, I beg you!She thought, please keep my baby safe and sound. But now, with her breathing calming down, she realized that something was wrong with the fetus, and that he had caused it anyway.When you're four months pregnant, she thought, it's not so much a fetus as it is a part of you, and you sit in the corner of the room with your hair against your cheek and feel like you've swallowed a hot rock... … Something sticky was running uncomfortably down the inner thigh. "No," she whispered, "no, Most High God, you cannot do this to me." I sweat, she thought.Or, it's my urine.Yes, that's probably the case, after he hit me for the third time, the pain in my lower body was so bad that I didn't even feel it when I peed myself.As it should be.

If it's neither sweat nor urine, it must be blood.Sitting in a corner of the living room, she saw shredded novels scattered around the sofa and coffee table.Her uterus was ready to deliver this baby anytime, and everything should have been fine before today. "No," she moaned, "God, please." She saw her husband's shadow, like a man-figure in a cornfield, twisted and elongated like a hangman, swaying back and forth on the wall between the living room and the kitchen.The figure on the wall put the phone on his ear, pulled away the tangled spiral phone line with his fingers, let go of it after staying for a while, and let it retract, just like a person who can't change a bad habit for many years.

Her first thought was that he was calling the police.The idea was ridiculous, since he was a cop himself. "Yes, it's an emergency," he said. "Don't you fucking whistle, I'm not mistaken, she's pregnant. It's just wonderful." Swipe up.When he spoke again, he became fidgety, and the anger in his tone was suppressed, adding a sense of terror to the room.She shuddered.Who could be so foolish as to make him angry at such a moment?The man certainly didn't know him. "Of course I didn't touch her a finger. You think I'm an idiot?" Her fingers fumbled slowly under the clothes to the wet panties.God, please, she thought.Since he snatched the book away, she couldn't remember how many times she had repeated it in her heart, she only knew to repeat it again.Please let me see the colorless liquid.

Her hand stuck out from under her skirt, and her fingertips were stained with bright red blood.She suddenly felt a sharp pain like a hacksaw cutting through her internal organs.She tried to hold her mouth down to keep herself from screaming.She knew it was so important to her. "Tell you, ignore those bastards. Come here! Quickly!" The phone was slammed back onto the phone. He came from the hall, the tall and bloated figure danced on the wall, staring at her from afar.His face was flushed, but his eyes reflected a feeble light as lifelessly as broken glass on a country road. "Look," he raised his hands and lowered them with a slight slap, "it's quite a mess here."

She stretched out her finger as far as possible, so that he could see the blood stains on it clearly, so that he could feel her condemnation. "I know." He said, as if those three words would free him and make the whole thing more reasonable.He turned around, looking for the novels that had been torn into pieces and scattered everywhere, and bent down to pick them up from around the bench and coffee table.When he straightened up, she saw that the top page happened to be the cover of the book, with the words "The Adventures of Kuer" printed on it. A woman in a white casual coat was standing on the prow of a ship with a long shawl. Her hair was swaying in the wind, and her snow-white shoulders were faintly visible.The cover of the book is covered with a layer of light red tinfoil.

"Isn't this asking for trouble?" He waved the remaining pages at her, as if frightening a littered puppy with a roll of newspaper. "How many times have I told you that I can't stand this crap." She knew that even if she was watching the TV news when he came home, or buttoning his shirt, or just dozing off on the bench, she would still be beaten and miscarried by him just as she was now.He's been having a rough time of late, with a woman named Wendy Yarrow constantly making trouble for him, and all Norman can do is spend some money to calm things down and get out on her. "How many times have I told you that I can't stand this crap." He'd yell the same out loud no matter what crap he meant, and then before hitting her he'd say something like, baby, I want Talk to you, come here, let's get closer.

"Don't you really understand, the child is going to be lost!" she murmured. He actually smiled inconceivably. "You can have another one." Sounds like comforting a kid who dropped an ice cream cone.He took the loose pages of the book into the kitchen, no doubt intending to throw them in the dustbin. You bastard, she thought subconsciously.The fluid in the body began to flow out again.This time it didn't flow drop by drop, but gushed out one by one, as if countless terrifying insects crawled out of their bodies.She buried her head deeply in the corner, moaning softly.You bastard, I hate you.

He returned to the room from the hall and walked towards her.She stared at him with crazy eyes, her feet kept rubbing against the floor, wishing she could get her whole body into the crack in the wall.For a moment she was even quite sure that he was not only going to hurt her and take the child she longed for, but kill her.Whenever he approached her with his head down, his arms drooping, and even the muscles in his legs relaxed, his eyes became extremely fierce and cruel.In addition to being called detectives by the children, people like her husband have another nickname called Bull.When he approached her with all his muscles relaxed and hunched over, the Bull was a perfect nickname.

She kept shaking her head, moaning in pain, and rubbed her feet against the floor.She felt more blood flow.Whenever he encountered such a situation, his eyes became so illusory.It was an uncomfortably empty stare. He shook his head irritably, then bent down, and lifted her up with both hands. "I won't hurt you, don't be a fool." "I'm bleeding," she whispered.She remembered that he said on the phone just now that he would not touch her. "Yes, I know, it's okay, they will help you stop the bleeding." He replied without interest, his eyes searching the room, trying to figure out where what just happened happened.She was like the roundworm in his stomach, and she knew exactly what he was thinking right now. Can they help me keep the fetus?She kept shouting in the depths of her heart.I hate you, I hate you so much. He carried her across the room to the stairs, bent down and placed her on the floor. "Are you feeling better?" he asked wearily. She closed her eyes, not wanting to see him again.Absolutely not now.She felt that she would go mad if she looked at him again. "Okay then." His tone seemed to have heard her answer.She opened her eyes to find that empty stare in his.It was as if his soul had flown away, leaving only an empty shell. If I had a knife, I'd kill him, she thought. In an instant, his expression became active again.He straightened his back, looked down at his shirt to make sure there was no blood on it, and then glanced at Rosie who was lying on the stairs.She was almost broken, covered in blood, and kept bleeding more blood.Now it is no longer flowing drop by drop, but has become bloody. He went into the kitchen again for about five minutes or so.She lay here, experiencing the excruciating pain of the miscarriage with all her senses, and even listening to the sound of blood rushing, she could still hear him walking back and forth in the kitchen.She felt as if she had suddenly sat down in a bathtub filled with warm, viscous liquid, a bloody soup.His elongated shadow danced in the hall as the refrigerator and cupboard doors opened and closed.There was the sound of running water in the sink, and then he hummed a song like (When a man loves a woman)—in the moment she loses her baby! He returned to the lobby with the sandwich.He hasn't had his dinner yet and looks like he's very hungry, for he's cleaning up while eating.The stuff in the sandwich smelled like a barbecue that was going to be served with noodles on a weeknight.It was a quick and easy meal suitable for watching the TV news. He looked at the scouring pad, which had turned extremely light pink, then turned his gaze to the blood stain in the corner of the room, and then looked at the scouring pad again.He nodded, tore off a mouthful of sandwich with his mouth, and stood up.When he came back from the kitchen again, she faintly heard sirens approaching.The ambulance will probably be here soon. He crossed the room, knelt beside her, and took her hands.It was cold in the room, and he frowned.While talking, rub your hands gently to warm up as soon as possible. "Sorry, what a coincidence... that bitch in the motel..." At this point, he looked away for a while, and then turned back to look at her who was carried to the stairs by him.There was a strange, dejected smile on his face. "My child, my child," she whispered. He squeezed her hand so hard it hurt her. "Don't worry about the fetus, listen to me, they'll be there in a minute or two." That's right, the ambulance was already very close, and the sirens were screaming in the night sky, heading this way. "Remember, you accidentally stepped on the ground when you went down the stairs just now, and you fell like this." She looked at him silently.When he held her hand, the pain in his body had eased a little.He was exerting so much force that she could hardly breathe. "Remember what I said?" She looked into his deep, ethereal eyes and nodded.There was a smell of Australian salt around her, and the smell of bloody stew was gone.Now she seemed to be sitting in a laboratory full of chemical reagents. "Well," he said, "you know what's going to happen if you don't say that?" She nodded again. "That's all. It's all for your own good. Then you'll be all right." "Otherwise you'll kill me." Her voice was small. He nodded, looking happier.It seems that a dull student finally realized the difficult problem posed by the teacher. "That's right. I'll take care of everything. What happened tonight is as easy as cutting off a little finger." Outside, red headlights flickered into the driveway. He finished the last bite of his sandwich and was about to stand up and open the door for those outside.The restless husband has a pregnant wife who has just been through an unfortunate event.She lost her own child.Before he turned around, she grabbed his shirt cuff tightly.He looked down at her. "Why?" It was still a small voice, "Norman, why did you attack the child?" She saw disbelief on his face - it looked like fear.But why is he afraid of her?Or afraid of their children? "It was just an accident," he explained. "That's the way it is. I have nothing against it. It was an accident. You better say that when you talk to them. God bless you." God bless me, she thought. The door slammed open.She heard someone running towards here, the sound was getting closer, some protruding metal parts made the sound of hitting the wall, and the movable gurney creaked and creaked.She would be lying on that bed and wheeled into a space in the ambulance.He turned again and looked down at her like a bull's dull eyes widening. "You're going to have another baby, and it won't happen again. The next baby will be very good. She'll be a girl. Maybe a sweet little boy. If it's a boy, we'll give him a set." Baseball shirt, if it’s a girl,” he gestured indistinctly, “…a hat or something. Just wait and see, there will be.” At this time, he smiled, and the look made her Felt more like a zombie in a coffin suddenly baring his teeth and grinning. "If you really care about me, everything will be fine." After saying that, he opened the door to let the ambulance in.He told them to drive faster, the patient was still bleeding.She closed her eyes as they approached so they couldn't see her inner world.Their voices seemed far away. Don't worry, Rose, don't be afraid, it's just a small thing, it's just a fetus, and you can have another one. She felt the needle of the syringe prick her arm.Then it was lifted again.She continued to close her eyes tightly, thinking, let it go, maybe I can really have another one, if I can have another child, I will take it out of his claws. But she had never explicitly expressed her desire to leave him.As time drifts, as the ideal world gradually disappears, the idea of ​​escape also fades away in sleep.Gradually, she no longer had a world of her own, but around her was only the dream world in which she lived, as she had seen in her girlhood dreams, in the pathless woods or in the dim Running wildly in the maze, there was a sound of hoofbeats from a giant monster behind him. A ferocious beast lost control and was approaching her step by step, trying to use her for dinner.She seemed to have no way out. The awake person fully understands the concept of dreaming, but the dreamer has no waking mind and no real world, he is just a screaming psychopath in his sleep. Nine years later, Rosie McClendon Daniels is still sleeping next to her insane husband.