Chapter 15 Part Two Looking for a Street Brother named Happiness

Part Two Looking for a Street Brother named Happiness younger brother sister, i want to go home ——Zhang Chu dear sister: Please forgive me, I am dying.It doesn't matter, it's just a little embarrassing to abandon the world so early.But there is nothing I want anymore, including the good life you once described to me.I said to a girl, let's have sex, and she slapped me angrily.I found a thirty-year-old woman on the street.In fact, she found me, and she taught me everything.She has a warm sweaty smell that reminds me of my mother.Hers smelled strong and warm there, like a loose sweater.I can't do anything, but enough is enough.I didn't leave anything undone: homework was due, and the roommate's radio was fixed.Everyone thinks that repairing electrical appliances is my hobby, but it's not.I actually don't have any hobbies, except being alone in a daze.But that warm place satisfied me so much, I was so happy, I wanted to lie there and rest forever.I told the thirty-year-old woman that I was going to die.She cried, her tears were salty and had a little fishy smell.I'm weird, I mean tears, it's one of the most useless things in the world that proves nothing.I'm really sorry, I don't know why I want to leave for no reason, I just think it's natural, like a child going home by itself after dark, or like a loose tooth that fell out by itself.

The younger brother is a very introverted person, fair, tall, thin and shy.Boys at that age are always good-looking, but he rarely shows this youthful brilliance.His arms were too slender, and in winter, the joints between his fingers swelled up due to poor blood flow, and his fingers became thick and unsightly.When I was young, I told him stories—I was the only one in my family who could tell him stories. I had to read many, many story books before I could tell him.Later, when the storybook was finished, he still wanted to listen to it, so I had to make it up.I made up a story about cow dung flying in the sky. It usually starts like this: Once upon a time, there was a cow dung, which was just a cow dung, but it always wanted to fly around in the sky like a bird.But how could cow dung fly in the sky?This is a natural thing for a pair of siblings who grew up in a small southern town.We can always imagine lots and lots of cow dung flying around like birds in the sky, happy and free.The younger brother believed this story without hesitation, a ridiculous story, a story that an unusually precocious and ignorant young lady could provide.

When I arrived at the school where my brother was studying, I only saw a small gray box.The younger brother has been locked in there ever since.His class teacher is not tall, honest and honest, and he doesn't seem to be able to speak.He said that the medical examination said that my brother did not suffer too much when he died, which comforted me a little.He guiltily tried to explain something, but I knew it had nothing to do with him.I know that anyone in our family is a man of few words and will never cause trouble to others.I know my brother has been lonely and introverted since he was a child, he has his own completely closed world - that is the only place where he has the right to be independent, no one can disturb him there, maybe he just wants to stay in that place forever .

The death of the younger brother did not cause an uproar.He dresses plainly, has no bad habits, and gets along well with everyone; he pays for a hot bath every three days, watches a video for three yuan every week, and gets a haircut every month; he doesn’t smoke, No alcohol, average grades.No one knows why he committed suicide, not even himself. He is not outstanding, he deserves to be happy.I always don’t go home often, but I secretly hope that if I go home suddenly one day, my brother has grown into an adult, just like the boys I can see on the street, happy, healthy and trustworthy.It's our fault, our innate incapacity to care for others.My mother passed away without warning when I was nine years old.That morning she also braided two pigtails for me, fried two rice cakes, and went to work wearing her blue scarf.But in the evening, all the people in the sugar factory were off work, but my mother didn't come back, and she never came back to this home with the strong smell of sugar from the factory.She just remembered something suddenly, and she wanted to do it, so she went.She forgot to tell us because it was too important to even talk about it.From then on, my father often stayed awake all night and wrote letters to every relative and friend to inquire about my mother's whereabouts.He started to forget a lot of things, and eventually he couldn't even remember my brother and me.He hid alone in the house, counted the pitifully small money, and kept all the little pieces of paper: receipts, train tickets, phone bills, money orders, and handwritten folk remedies for insomnia and constipation.He always said kindly to his younger brother: Are you looking for Xiaojun?He went out to play and hasn't come back yet.However, my younger brother is called Xiaojun.

I hugged the gray box tightly, I didn't expect my brother to be so light. On the train ride back, I threw up.The doctor said I was pregnant.She asked coldly: Do you want it? I said no.There is no need for one more victim of pleasure in this world. I looked up and saw my brother.He looked at me quietly, with pity. I lost my voice: Brother, are you still alive? The younger brother smiled and said, "Sister, how long will you be willing to take off that magnificent dress of yours?"