Chapter 11 The Eleventh Counseling

Let me tell you, doctor, I've been feeling better lately.Yesterday afternoon, I just wanted to crawl back to bed and sleep, but instead I took the dog leash and took Emma for a walk on the beach.To ensure privacy, I usually lead her into the woods on my walks. Changing the route, we also became more open.Well, only Emma is more open. She can't walk when she sees a smaller dog, and she has to stop and sniff.If she meets a bigger dog, she may not be sure.However, as long as there is a poodle, she will definitely love each other, and she will never miss it.I don't want to deal with dog owners, just stare into the distance, or at the dog, or at my own feet, while tugging on the leash and urging Emma to go.Yesterday she insisted on saying hello to a cocker spaniel, so I had to stop and actually chat with the cocker spaniel's owner.The host is an old couple, and the content of the greetings is very ordinary, nothing more than: what's his name?Timber?How old?But, doctor, if it had happened two or three weeks ago, I'd rather throw the old couple overboard than have any degree of communication with them.

When I first came home, because my house was rented out to others, I had to borrow my mother's house.Good thing my mom didn't sell my house. Selling a house is just one of the psycho's lies.Fortunately, after I bought the house, I was afraid that I would not be able to pay the mortgage, and worried that the house would be foreclosed, so I brokered a house, charged the handling fee, and opened another account to deposit all the handling fee, which was enough to pay for a house. Home loan for the whole year.While I was kidnapped, the mortgage company continued to automatically withhold the payment every month. Once the balance was insufficient, the house could not escape the fate of foreclosure.

I asked my mother where did my things go?She said: Annie, you can't sell them all.Otherwise, where will the cost of search and rescue come from?Most of the money raised has become a bounty.We also used up all the rent we received.She's definitely not joking and really sold everything.I always thought that one day I might see a girl in the street wearing my leather jacket. The car I originally drove was rented for a long time. After the incident, the car was seized by the police and finally taken back by the car dealer.Now that I'm thinking about how to go in the future, it doesn't matter to me whether I drive that little crappy car for the time being.

I had saved a lot of money, but autopay paid my mortgage and other everyday expenses, and I ended up with very little left.After I was kidnapped, a homeowner whom I successfully brokered before paid the handling fee, and the company forwarded the check to my mother.She wanted to cash it in, and used it to increase the bounty bounty, and then donated it all to charity!But the bank won't let her cash the check, so she'll have to deposit it into my account, which is a smart move, or I can't live my life right now. A few days ago, I was on the couch with my arms around Emma when the phone rang.I'm not in the mood to talk on the phone, but when I see my mother's number on the caller ID, if I know I don't want to answer, she will keep ringing.

How is my Annie Bear today? fine.I want to tell her that I didn't sleep well last night and I'm tired now.Last night was my fifth night in a row sleeping in bed with a tree branch outside constantly scratching the window, forcing me to sleep in the closet, wondering if I would ever feel safe again for the rest of my life. Listen, I have great news. Wayne has come up with an amazing business idea. Because it is still in the planning stage, I can't tell you the details for the time being, but he will send it soon. After so many years, the old couple should understand that he has no talent for turning stones into gold, but he is not.I almost feel sorry for Wayne sometimes.He wasn't bad, or even stupid, just the kind of guy who really wanted to make a career out of it.It's a pity that he doesn't like to be down-to-earth, he is only busy pursuing the shortcut to success, and in the end he is busy in circles.

When I was a kid, he went out to pitch new investment ideas and took me with him a few times.I feel ashamed for him. He likes to stick in the nose of the other person when he talks, and when the other person wants to back away, he will shout louder.In the first few days after meeting the other party, he walks happily at home, checks the phone message no less than a million times, and drinks and celebrates with his mother until midnight.In the end there was still no text. Every once in a while, he'll do things that make me think he's not a total wimp.When I was fifteen, I wanted to go to a concert and spent a weekend picking up empty bottles downtown.On Monday, when it was time to buy tickets, I exchanged the bottle for recycling money, but the total was far short of the ticket price.I locked myself in my room and cried.Having cried enough, I walked out of the room to find an envelope tucked under the door, with Wayne's handwriting on the front, and an admission ticket inside.I went to thank him, but he just blushed and said: Don't thank me.

As soon as I entered the real estate agency industry and started earning a decent income, I immediately turned around and helped them get new tires, new computers, new refrigerators, and even gave them cash to pay utility bills and buy groceries.At first, it felt good to feed back, but over time, I found myself throwing money to fill a black hole and money fell straight into the next stupid business opportunity.After I bought the house, I couldn't support them like I used to, so I sat them down and explained how to live on a budget.My mother looked at me dumbfounded, as if I was speaking a foreign language.They must still be able to scrape together a living now because their lifestyle hasn't changed at all.

My mother, noticing the lack of interest in my tone of voice on the phone, interrupted my thoughts with the following passage.Why have you been silent? Sorry, I hope he succeeds. I have a good feeling this time. You said the same thing last time. She was silent for a moment, then said: I really don't appreciate your bad-mouthing attitude, Annie.During the days when you disappeared, he did so many things for you, the two of us did so many things for you, you should at least show a little interest. Sorry, it's just that I'm not in a good mood right now. Go out for a walk, don't stay in the house all the time, maybe your tone won't become so aggressive.

impossible.Every time I want to go out, some bullshit reporter will jump out and pester me, and there will be Hollywood agents holding a lot of money to talk about cooperation plans with me. They just want to make a living, Anne.If it weren't for the journalists you hate paying to visit you, you would have no money to eat, right? When something like this happens, only my mother will criticize me in turn.However, I think she hit the nail on the head.My savings are depleted and my living expenses are indeed provided by these vulture reporters.But I still can't adapt to this process, and I don't want to see myself reported to the newspaper or on TV.My mom cut out every report I was interviewed and finally got a chance to help me put together a scrapbook and also recorded every interview.She would give me a copy, but I only read one of them twice, and I stuffed the rest in a drawer.

You're on the news, Annie.How do you raise money after the news dies down?How do you keep that house? The bridge is naturally straight to the bow. How straight? There is always a way, Mom.The solution is something that people come up with.What exactly do I have planned?I have several knots in my stomach. You know what, you might as well get an agent.A broker may be able to secure a deposit for you. You mean, they can help them make some money for themselves.I talked to an agent and he asked me to sign and give away all rights.If I do sign, the studio can do whatever it wants. Otherwise, go talk to the producer yourself.

I don't want to talk to anyone, Mom.Is it that difficult to understand? God, Anne, I just asked a simple question, you don't have to bite my head off, do you? sorry.I take a deep breath.Maybe I really need to get out more and get some air.We'd better talk about other things, or I'll be volcanically erupting.I forced a smile.How is your garden doing? There are two things my mom loves to talk about: gardening and cooking.These two activities require a lot of thoughtful care.For my mom, it was easier to focus on food and plants than to spoil me. I remember when I was a child, I would actually be jealous of her roses. She used to talk to them, touch them, tend them, and feel so proud when they won prizes at the local garden fair.Having an older sister who often wins awards is boring enough, and I have an outstanding cousin who even wins awards for roses, so how can I compete with flowers?Sometimes I suspect that cooking with recipes and gardening with books makes it easier for her to achieve the results she wants. Most things in life are not, especially parenting. She wanted to teach me how to cook, and I wanted to learn too, but unfortunately, since every flower must die, I lack cooking skills.Before I was kidnapped and went up the mountain, I couldn't even raise hanging potted plants.In mid-April, when spring came, the perverts began to let me go out to grow vegetables, and I developed my gardening skills in the mountains. The first time I went out to grow vegetables, I was seven months pregnant, and the bright spring scenery made my eyeballs almost explode.I inhale my first breath of crisp mountain air.For months, all I could smell was wood smoke and cedar walls.Stepping outside, my nostrils are tickled by the scent of fir trees in the sun, wildflowers and mossy earth at my feet.I want to lie down, put my face on the ground, wishing I could eat it in one bite. If this was up north, or somewhere outside of Vancouver Island, I'd guess it's still white snow in mid-April, but it's getting warmer by the day and everything is lush and green with sagetails in shades of green Grass green, emerald green, pine green, moss green, even the air smells green.I figured it wasn't too far from home, but I didn't know if it made me feel better or more at ease. For the first time, he refused to let me leave the hut too far, but he couldn't stop my exploring eyes.The trees around us were so dense that I couldn't see if there were other mountains around.The clearing was covered with moss, as thick as a carpet, with only a few places where grass grew, but mostly only moss and rocks.It must be hard to dig a septic tank here, right?Digging wells is even more difficult.But I guess the water we use comes directly from this nearby river.I saw some remnants of tree roots at the edge of the forest, and guessed that someone used to log here.I didn't see the road, but there was bound to be a path that merged into the road around here. The river is on the right side of the hut, flowing down the mountain, and the raised vegetable garden is beside the river.The water was a beautiful jasper color, calm in parts, and so dark that it was almost black, so I figured there were places where it was deep enough for swimming. From the outside, the cottage has shutters and flower boxes hanging outside the window, which looks lovely.Two rocking chairs lined up on the front porch under the eaves.Perhaps the original owners of the cabin were a couple from many years ago.I thought about the habits of the hostess.She likes to hang flower boxes outside the window to grow flowers, and dig soil from other places to grow vegetables.I wondered how she would feel if she knew who was living in the cabin now. I started having labor pains while growing vegetables.That day he let me out to grow vegetables, of course he didn't forget to monitor me. I was weeding while carrying water and watering vegetables.Vegetables are thriving and I don't bother growing vegetables all day long.Even if he doesn't like something and tells me to redo it, I don't care, because it allows me to spend more time outdoors.He told me to wear gloves to protect my perfect nails. When I dug the soil, I felt the soil was cool, and the freshly turned earth smelled fresh. I was at ease, and it was better than being locked in the hut and staring at him. I planted small seeds, and when they germinated, they grew carrots, tomatoes, and beans, and I grew my own embryos in my belly. I found it interesting to compare the two.Technically half of the embryo belonged to him, but I wouldn't let myself think that.I have developed a knack for not thinking about things. The only thing I can't help but desire is the simple warmth of a hug.Without Emma to cuddle, without Luke to accompany me tenderly, even without my mother's once-in-a-lifetime hug, I realized the importance of hugs to physical and mental health.Showing maternal love is not an intuitive action of my mother, she seems to need to think about it before expressing it.She hugs me involuntarily only when she rewards me, and every time I feel like I've been fooled by her again, every time I'm angry at myself for wanting her warmth so much. Only when I was sick, my mother would be generous to reach out to me.She would drag me around to find doctors and pharmacists, discussing blush-sized details.She put one arm around my shoulder and touched my forehead with her little hand.I like the feeling of her caring for me so much that I never protest.She even slept with me when I was sick, and to this day I think of her whenever I smell the cool scent of Vicks Vapo Rub nose rub, and remember the warmth of her petite body next to me, making me feel I feel at ease and at ease. Every time a pervert walks past me, he grabs me and hugs me, pats my stomach, or runs along my back, and still sleeps with his arms around me every night.At first I felt nauseous when he touched me, but after a few months, I became numb and cold, and sometimes I could respond to his hugs without feeling anything.Sometimes, my longing for a hug is too deep, and I will unknowingly get into his arms, my eyelids are closed tightly, and I regard him as my beloved, and at the same time hate myself for doing such nasty things. I often think, strangely, his soul has been corrupted, why doesn't the stench waft from his skin?Sometimes, I will smell the natural products of the environmental protection concept of the laundry detergent we use in his clothes, and the fragrance is clean.I could also smell a faint fragrance from his hands and skin after he took a shower, but the fragrance faded away quickly.Even after he's been outside for a while, I still can't smell the outdoors on him, no fresh air, no grass, no tar, no fir needles, no odours, not to mention the smell of sweat.Even the odor molecules are not only attached to him. I go to the river to fetch water every day, and come back with a bucket to water the vegetables, but I am not too tired, because fetching water gives me the opportunity to touch the cool running water and wash my face by the way.The timing is coming to mid-June, and I calculated that I am nearly nine months pregnant, but my belly is so big that sometimes I can’t help but wonder if it’s past the due date, because I don’t know the exact date of pregnancy, so I can calculate It's hard to get up.That day, I came up with a big bucket of water and was about to pour it down to water the vegetables, but because of the hot weather and my hard work, sweat dripped into my eyes.I put down the bucket to gasp. I rubbed my waist with one hand, and a throbbing pain ran through my stomach.I ignored it at first, and wanted to lift the bucket to water the vegetables again, but my stomach hurt again, and this time the pain was even worse.I knew it would piss him off if I didn't finish watering the vegetables, so I took a deep breath and watered the rest of the vegetable garden. After the work was done, I found him repairing the boards on the porch.I said to him: The time has come.We went in, but before he went in he went to check that the vegetable garden was not watered.As soon as I entered the hut, I felt a thud in my stomach, a loose feeling, and the warm liquid immediately ran down my legs and onto the floor. The pervert had read the birth instructions with me so he knew what was going to happen, but he just stood in the doorway of the hut with a look of panic on his face.The amniotic fluid continued to trickle down my thighs and pooled at my feet as I waited for him to recover.I saw his face livid, and knew I wouldn't wait any longer.Even if I am scared to death, I have to calm his emotions first.I need his help. This is nothing more than normal, the human body will have this phenomenon.Everything is fine.He started pacing, taking a few steps into the cabin, then back, then a few more.I must concentrate on him. Can I take a bath?Baths relieve pain when menstruating, and I think there is still time between contractions and long intervals.He just stopped and stared at me with wide eyes. May I?I think taking a bath is better.Still speechless, he just rushed into the bathroom and put the bath water for me.My hunch is that, at this stage, he will acquiesce to anything I ask for. Don't put the water too hot, because I don't know if hot water will affect the fetus.After putting the warm water in, I slowly lay down with my big belly stretched out. The pervert was leaning on the wall table in the bathroom, his eyes wandered around in a panic, but he just refused to look me in the eye.His hands clenched and loosened, loosened and clenched again, as if squeezing the air.The control freak stands shaking, tongue tied, like a teenager on a first date. I said softly without haste: Please help me remove the bed sheet and get a few bath towels to spread on it, okay? He rushed out of the bathroom, and then I heard him moving around the bedroom.In order to calm my emotions, I tried my best to recall the content of the book, concentrate on breathing, and avoid thinking about the fact that I gave birth in the cabin, and the only person who could help me was a terrified psychopath.The water droplets on the bathtub wall became the focus of my mind, and I counted how many seconds the water droplets can drag down before sliding down.The bath water was no longer hot, it was almost cold water. At this time, the interval of uterine contraction was shortened. I called him in and he hid in the bedroom all the time. With his help, I climbed out of the tub and dried myself off.At this time, the uterus contracted violently, and the labor pain came very quickly. I had to be close to him so as not to fall.Back in the bedroom, I shuffled and clutched his arm, hot labor pains attacking my abdomen.It was so cold in the cabin, goosebumps came out of my skin. You go build a fire, I can lie in bed by myself, okay? I lay down, with a pillow under my shoulders, and don't remember much of it other than the excruciating pain.Most pregnant women have the right to choose anesthetics. If I have that kind of blessing, I will definitely choose anesthetics.The psycho is like a husband in a sitcom, pacing, wringing his hands, covering his ears every time I yell.And I kept screaming.I was twisting in bed, biting the damn pillow, and there were moments when he sat in the corner with his head between his knees.He even left the cabin for a few minutes, but I started yelling for help!Shouting so loudly, he had to come back. All the books say that when you feel that the fetus is about to come out, you should start applying full pressure.Crap, every nerve in my body is telling me to try to push down.I sat up with my back against the wall, trying to press the wall, and the log might have made a few bruises on my back.I held my knees with both hands, stretched my legs and gritted my teeth, trying to push outward.As long as I could breathe, I gave him orders.The more I can master the situation, the calmer he seems to be. The so-called mastery of the situation is an exaggeration, because I am dripping with sweat, and I can only shout commands in the interval between exertions. I have vague memories of most of the labor, but I think my labor pains lasted only a few hours, which is particularly lucky for a first-time mother and one of the few things I was lucky about during my abduction.What I remember is that I asked him to stay between my legs to help the baby out of the womb. When he heard it, his face was pale and covered with beads of sweat. Why are you sweating?I have no time for his or my dignity, just want to bring this thing into existence. When the baby finally came out, I was screaming with pain and relief at the same time.My vision, blurred by sweat, caught a glimpse of the pervert holding the baby as far away as if the object in his hand was my menstrual cloth.Damn, he didn't know what to do next.The baby is not crying yet. To clean the baby's face and put it on my stomach. I close my eyes and let my head slump to one side. A tiny whimper turned into a wail, and I snapped my eyes open.God, what a beautiful voice, the only human voice I've heard in 10 months other than a psycho, I cried.I raised my hand, and he hurriedly sent the baby away, as if he had cleared his responsibility. It's a girl.It didn't even occur to me to ask about gender just now.A sticky, bloody, wrinkled baby girl.I have never seen anything so beautiful. Hi sweetheart, welcome to the world, I said.I love you, I whispered to her small forehead and kissed her lightly. I looked up and saw him glaring at us mother and daughter.He no longer looked scared, only angry.He turned and walked outside. As soon as he left, I immediately expelled the afterbirth.I wanted to squirm toward the head of the bed, to shake off the wet, sticky mess, but I was already very close to the wall.Then I tried to move sideways, but it hurt.I just lay there, paralyzed into a mess, with a baby on my belly.The umbilical cord must be cut quickly.If he doesn't come back soon, I'll just try to bite it off myself. While I waited for his return, I examined the baby's entire body, counting her fingers and toes.She was so small, so delicate, and her hair was as dark as mine, though it was ridiculously soft.She whimpers once in a while and I rub her cheek with my thumb and she's quiet. After waiting for five minutes, he came back.He walked towards me, and I was glad to see that he wasn't angry anymore, just indifferent.I looked away from his face and saw him holding a hunting knife. He saw the rotten afterbirth between my legs, and his indifference instantly turned into panic. I can't do without cutting the umbilical cord, I said.But he became a wooden man. I slowly extended my empty hand, and he handed over the hunting knife in the same slow motion. I changed the position of holding the baby and cut the umbilical cord.When the umbilical cord snapped, she meowed, waking up the pervert.He stretched out his hand and bent my wrist holding the hunting knife. He didn't let go until the knife fell on the bed. I was going to hand it back to you automatically! He picked up the knife and bent over it.I hold the baby tightly and try to twist to the other side of the bed.He stopped and so did I.He caught my gaze, slowly spatled the knife with the corner of the towel, then raised it to the light, nodded, and walked towards the kitchen. He helped me turn over, in exchange for a clean towel to put under it.While he was packing up the medical supplies, I put the nipple in the baby's mouth and she wouldn't take it.I tried again, same result.Tears stung my eyeballs, and I swallowed my frustration hard.I remember it being written in the book that sometimes the baby won't suckle right away, so I'll try again.This time, I pressed the nipple into her small mouth, and a little watery yellow liquid came out, and the small mouth like a rosebud opened, and finally started to suck. Relieved, I looked up just in time to see the pervert come back to the bed with a glass of water and a baby blanket.He only focused on his movements and didn't look at me until he put the cup on the table next to the bed before he glanced over, and his gaze immediately went directly to the breastfeeding picture.He blushed, quickly averted his gaze, stared at the wall, threw the blanket to me, and said, "Cover yourself the quilt." I put the blanket over one shoulder and the baby, and she just made a loud sucking sound. He took two steps back, turned back, and walked into the bathroom.After a while, I heard the sound of water from the shower head, which lasted for a long time. When he returned to the bedroom, he didn't speak, just stood at the end of the bed and stared at me for a few minutes.Knowing to avoid his eyes when he was having a tantrum, I pretended to be dozing off, but I could still see him through my eyelashes.I have seen his angry expression, the expression of waiting to fix you, and the appearance of him completely ignoring others, but this time is different.This time he was thinking. I hugged my daughter tighter.