Chapter 13 The Thirteenth Counseling

Glad you're back from vacation, doctor.At least you have a chance to relax.I will only increase your psychological burden. I think you definitely need to get rid of these psychological haze for a while and take a breather.You cover it up pretty well, but I know this mental shit seeps through your emotions.From the first time I received your treatment, I noticed that every time I mentioned something that was too much, you would tear off a small corner of the notebook and crumple it into a small ball.The faster you knead, the greater the impact you receive.It is inevitable for human beings to reveal their emotions.

Like I said, I'm glad you had a great vacation, but I'm several times happier that you're back.It would be great if I could find you last week.Oh no, not just because the bad guy I said last time still wants to deal with my concerns, but that shadow still hovers behind me like a vulture.The main reason I want to see you is because one thing happened.I saw my ex-boyfriend in the supermarket, and he was picking apples with a girl.God, his smile on her made my heart bleed.She was wearing a fitted white turtleneck and designer jeans.I don't know what he said, but the girl raised her head and laughed, and that look made me even more excited.

If they saw me, I figured Luke's bright smile would turn to sympathy, and I'd be even sadder to see it, so I ducked my neck, ducked around the corner, and dropped my shopping basket in the store, head bowed , into the parking lot, into the car, heart beating harder than an addiction.I was anxious to drive away from the scene as soon as possible, but I was afraid that the tires would screech and attract more attention, so I had to go around to the back of the supermarket and park the car in the most remote corner, with my forehead on the steering wheel, crying so hard . How could that woman be by his side?He is my man.The girl picking apples with him should be me.I ended up driving home and couldn't stop crying and couldn't buy anything.That night, I had to take out the hardened cheese and eat it with softened biscuits, while imagining them hugging each other in bed on Sunday morning, imagining him putting his hands in her hair and kissing her passionately.Alas, by the time my fantasies came to an end, they were almost engaged and in the process of naming their future baby.

For a few seconds, he looked utterly happy, and I wanted to be the only woman who could make him smile like that.Just saying that out of my mouth makes my heart flutter.I know that I should wish him a safe life and bless him, but ah, alas, why not choose that kind of woman?The full-score blond beauty, she is white and clean, wearing a white turtleneck. I feel so dirty just by looking at her.I used to wear her clothes a lot, and I always wanted to wear hers. I was wondering if this woman, this strange woman, knew what happened to me.She might be a good person, too. I can't imagine Luke going out with a bad woman.Maybe she felt sorry for me.God, better not.This kind of thing, I am already very competent.

After the pervert shot the mallard, I lost a piece of meat and had a black hole in my heart.Taking advantage of the situation, fear came in, with a big hand, choking my heart and stomach.For the next two days, every time I watched him pick up my daughter, look at her, or even walk past her basket, that big hand would squeeze even tighter. One morning, she was crying in the crib, and I was about to pick her up, but he took the first step.Still wrapped in the blanket, she let out a little cry from his arms as he rocked the baby up and down.He moved his face to Xiaolian and said: Don't cry.I watched with bated breath, but luckily she did quiet down, and he smiled proudly.I know it's the up and down motion that stops the crying, not the baby's ability to understand him, but my suicidal tendencies aren't serious enough to correct him.

She is very obedient, he said.But at this age, the human brain is like a sponge, which can easily absorb the toxins of society.Fortunately, she was born here so that she could learn the values ​​I instilled in her, formal values.But most importantly, she can learn to respect. Damn, how should I respond? As a child, sometimes it will test the limits of an adult's patience. When an adult wants to teach her something, she may not understand it.But that doesn't mean she's disrespectful or disrespectful, it's just a child's nature. No, that's not the nature of children, it's parents who indulge them.

This conversation didn't seem to irritate him, so I said: Maybe it's a good thing for a child to develop curiosity and want to challenge authority?You told me that the women you knew before were all married to the wrong man and entered the wrong profession, but maybe their parents didn't allow them to think for themselves when they were young, so they just wanted to challenge the authority when they grew up. Still calm, he said: Is your mother like this too?Taught you to think independently?Teach me to think like her, is that okay? Nah.However, because of this, I want my daughter to live a better life.Don't you want your kids to have a better life than you?

He stopped bouncing the baby up and down.What are you implying? Ruined. No hints!I'm just worried that you might have some expectations expect?Yes, Anne, I had expectations. That's right.I expect my daughter to respect her father.I want my daughter to grow up to be a lady, not a whore who spreads her legs when she sees a man.Such expectations are not too high, right?Or are you trying to raise my daughter as a whore? what i want to say is not at all You have been instilled with the idea that you can do whatever you want, what kind of girl will become when she grows up, do you know?I worked in a logging camp for a while.The psycho is a lumberjack?There was a female helicopter pilot who said her father taught her that she could do whatever she wanted when she grew up.Her dad is a fool.When I met her, she had just been dumped by her boyfriend.Her boyfriend was one of the idiot loggers at the logging camp.

Hmm, he doesn't have a good impression of a lumberjack, maybe he's a foreman, or a supervisor sitting in an office. I listened to her scold her primitive man, and let her cry on my shoulder for six months with snot and tears.Later she said she hoped to find a good man, so I asked her out, but she said she wasn't ready for a relationship yet.So I am waiting.Then one day, she said she wanted to go for a walk.I want to be alone.However, after a few minutes, I saw her boyfriend who had broken up with him leave too, so I followed him out. The pervert shook the baby faster and faster and she started whimpering.They spread a blanket in the woods.This man dumped her like trash, she despised this man, and now let him fuck her.So I waited for him to leave, wanted to communicate with her, wanted to tell her that getting back together with him would only hurt me again, but she told me to mind my own business and turn around and leave.U-turn and leave!I tried my best to protect her, but she returned to that man's embrace.I can't help her.She left me with no choice.He tightened his grip on the baby's hand.

I took a step forward and held out my hands. You hurt her. She makes my heart ache.The baby began to howl, and he shook his head suddenly, looking down at her, as if he didn't know why there was an extra baby in his arms.He stuffed his daughter into my arms, nearly dropped the baby, and walked angrily to the door.He held the door frame, turned around and said: If she becomes that kind of woman, he shakes his head.I can't let this happen.After speaking, he slammed the door and walked out, leaving me to coax the children.I wish I could break down and cry myself. An hour later, he came back, looking peaceful, and walked to the baby basket.I think if you could look at the world and understand the disease, drugs, pedophilia that I filter out for her down the hill, and ask yourself, do you really want the best for your daughter, or You take your own selfishness seriously He bends over the baby basket and smiles.You will understand that from now on, you should regard her life as more important than your own.The smile disappeared as he looked up at me.Can you do it, Anne?His hands rested on the baby's body, and my eyes fell on his hands. Those hands took at least one life. God knows what else he did to that female helicopter pilot.

I lowered my head and said: I can do it, I can do it. For the rest of the day, every nerve in my body told me to run for my life, but my legs were so weak.My hands were shaking and I couldn't hold dishes, clothes, soap, anything.The angrier he got, the more things I couldn't hold and the worse my leg cramps got.Even the tiniest sound can startle me.If he moves a little faster, my pulse speeds up and I break out in a cold sweat. The next day, he packed a small bag of luggage, took a change of clothes, and left without saying where he was going.Although I was relieved, I worried in my heart that he might have had enough of our mother and daughter and left.I fumbled up and down the hut in a panic, unable to find a way out.He came back the next day, and I still didn't know how to rescue the child from this hell on earth. I don't know where he went, only that he brought back germs and started coughing and sneezing not long after.As in his nature, he is even more bossy when he is sick.Not only do I have to babysit and take care of the house, but now I have to wipe his brow every fucking five seconds, add firewood to the fireplace, warm up his blankets in the dryer, cover him It was his bad idea, not mine.I pray that he deteriorates into pneumonia and dies. He asked me to read to him, and I read with a hoarse throat.My stepfather Wayne won't wipe my forehead when I'm sick, and I don't care.He only taught me how to play cards.I wish the pervert would be so relaxed as long as I play cards with him.Whenever I started to have a runny nose, he pulled out a deck of cards and played with me for hours on end.I like the feel of the cards in my hand, the numbers on them, the order.What I like best is the feeling of winning, and he had to switch to teaching me more and more difficult games, so as not to lose to me all the time. On the second day of the illness, the pervert began to cough violently. I stopped in the middle of the reading and asked: Do you have any medicine? He was anxious, as if I threatened to pour drugs on him, grabbed my arm, nails dug into my flesh, and said: No!no medicine. It may be effective to eat. The medicine is poisonous.His hands are hot. Why don't you go downtown by yourself and see a doctor Doctors are scarier than medicine!The man who killed my mother was the doctor.If she only let me take care of her, she would not die of illness, but she let the doctor pour poison on her, and the disease will get worse and worse.She was killed by a doctor.Even with a stuffy nose, every syllable is filled with contempt for doctors. After a few days, his cough stopped, but the baby started to cry at night, waking up every two or three hours.I reached out to touch her and felt that she had a fever.As soon as she woke up, I went over to comfort her, but once I was half a beat behind, and he threw a pillow at the cot. Another time, he didn't allow me to take care of her, saying: "Continue reading aloud, she just clamored for my mother to hug her."I want to take care of my daughter, and I want to save the lives of both mother and daughter.I continued to read. Her cries became louder and louder.He snatched the book from my hand.Tell her not to cry, or I will settle accounts with her. I kept my tone as calm as possible, picked her up from the cot, and said: She seems to be sick too. she's fine.You should learn how to control her.He pressed his head with a pillow.I felt an urge to lose my mind, and wanted to go over and press the pillow with all my strength, but he immediately raised his head and said: Go and pour me another glass of water, this time it will be colder.I put on a pleasant smile at him, but another piece of flesh in my heart fell off and floated away. The next morning, the baby woke up earlier than usual and woke me up to the crying.I immediately picked her up and walked around on tiptoe, trying to comfort her, but it was too late.The pervert jumped out of bed and glared at me as he got dressed.Sorry, I think she is really sick. He walked outside angrily.I lay back on the bed, ready to feed her.Breastfeeding is one of my favorite mother-daughter activities.I like the way she looks up at me, with a small hand pressing on the breast, her belly will swell when she is full, and her small buttocks are just full of palms.Her whole body is so delicate and delicate, with hands full of small lines, petite nails, smooth cheeks, and silky black eyelashes. Usually, after she's finished feeding, I'll kiss her all over her body, from her toes to the soft top of her instep.When I kiss her hand, I'll pretend to nibble her fingertips, then bite down on her arm.The grand finale was to blow her belly, which made her laugh so unhappily. Today, however, the normally happy little baby is restless and irritable, and every time I want to feed, the little mouth always moves away from my breast.Her skin was so hot, and there was a red circle on each cheek, as if someone had painted her as a clown.Her abdomen was distended, and I thought she might have flatulence, so I hugged her for a walk, but she vomited on my shoulder, and finally fell asleep crying.I have never been so helpless in my life.I want to say one thing to the pervert, just be afraid of his reaction, but I need to take her to help. The baby was so ill that he had to see a doctor, and I told him as soon as he was in the house. He glanced at me.Start preparing breakfast. During breakfast, she started crying in the basket, I tried to go over and hug her, but the pervert raised his hand and said: Don't move.Going to hug her only encourages bad behavior.Let's talk after eating. Her cries ripped through the air, and with each breath I took between wailings, I could hear the whirring of phlegm coming from her chest. She's not doing well.Can we take her to the doctor?I know your mother died, but she got cancer, and it wasn't a doctor who killed her.You could strap me to the van and take her to the doctor.I hesitated for a second.Otherwise, I can wait here and you take her there yourself, okay?Am I really saying this?The daughter will be alone with him, but at least she can go to the doctor. He chewed slowly, stopped at last, wiped his mouth with a napkin, took a sip of water, and said: The doctor will ask questions.Her cries reached heartbreaking levels. I know, but you're smart, smarter than any doctor.You'll know how to answer without arousing suspicion. well said.I'm really smarter than the doctor, so I know she doesn't have to see a doctor.He stomped on the floor toward the crib, and I followed.His voice was pitched an octave higher to compete with the baby's cry.She just needs to learn respect. You go to rest and let me coax her. No, Anne.Obviously what you did was wrong.He lifted the baby out of the basket, and I held on to the thighs of the dress to keep me from throwing an impulsive punch at his back.I pray that Tao will be coaxed to sleep by the pervert as soon as possible.Reluctantly, when he was shaking the child in his arms, the crying only became more and more violent. Please hand her over to me.I held out my trembling hands.please.She is afraid. He stared at me first, his face flushed with anger, and in a blink of an eye he raised his hands, and the child plummeted.I barely caught her, lost my center of gravity, and landed hard on my knees while catching her.I don't know if the baby was frightened or finally tired from crying, she hiccupped tiredly and calmed down in my arms.The pervert knelt down and got close to my face, so close I could feel his exhale. You taught my daughter to be right with me.No way, Annie.not good at all. My voice shook into a whisper, and I said to him: I would never do that kind of thing, she's just confused because she's not feeling well.she loves you.I know she loves you, I can see it.He tilted his head.When she hears you talking, her eyes will turn to where you are.If you hold her, she won't look at me when I talk.It's complete nonsense, but he must believe it. He stared straight into my eyeballs for a bone-chilling minute, then clapped his hands and said: Well, breakfast is getting cold.I put her back in the basket and followed him back to the table, tensing up and waiting for her to cry.Thank goodness she fell asleep. After breakfast, he stretched his arms upward and patted his stomach.I'm going to try again. Let me flip through the book, will you?I can look in the book to see if there are any local herbs or plants that have medicinal properties.Herbs are natural.Otherwise, you can read the book yourself to see what herbs are suitable for her. He glanced at the crib and said: She'll be fine. Her condition is getting worse.For the next two days, she was hot all over, and the silky skin felt hot in my hands, and I didn't know how to treat her.She was coughing and wheezing, and I put a hot cloth on her chest, hoping to clear up the phlegm, but she cried more because of it.Changing to a cold cloth, her crying sound became louder.Nothing works.She was waking up every hour at night and I was never able to fall asleep and lay half asleep with constant fear.Sometimes I would hear her catch a breath in her throat, and my heart would stop until I heard her breathe again. The pervert believes that when she cries during the day, adults should pretend to be deaf so as to train her self-control.However, if she was allowed to cry, it usually only lasted about ten minutes, and then he shouted angrily: "Take care of her!"Then slam the door and go out.When she cries at night, I will rush to hug her, but if she wakes him up, he will throw a pillow at me or her, or cover his head with a pillow.Sometimes he beat the bed to vent his anger. To get him back to sleep, I would carry her into the bathroom and wait for her to calm down.One night I wanted the steam to make her breathing easier, so I turned on the shower head, not sure if the steam would work, because he came roaring and yelling at me to turn off the water. After staying up for several nights in a row, I became a zombie.On the fifth night of her illness, she woke up every half hour of sleep, and it was getting harder and harder for me to open my eyelids and wait to coax her.I remember my eyelids were heavy and I just wanted to close them for a second.I must have fallen asleep, because I then woke up suddenly.My first thought was that the hut became so quiet, and I was glad that she finally fell asleep, so I let my eyelids close slowly.Then I found out why the pervert wasn't sleeping next to me?I jumped up suddenly. It was dark inside the hut.Although it was summer, it was cold last night, so he built a small fire, and I could see his silhouette in the light of the embers.He was sitting at the end of the bed, bent over slightly, so I thought he was trying to pick up the baby, but when he turned around, I found the baby was already in his arms.I reached out to him drowsily. Sorry, I didn't hear her cry just now. He handed the baby to me, turned on the light, and began to dress.I couldn't figure it out for a moment.Is it time to wake up?Why didn't he wake me up?The baby lay silently in my arms as I lifted the blanket from her face. She didn't squirm from discomfort, for the first time in days, and her cheeks weren't red or sweaty, but the more I looked at her, the more I felt that she was pale, and her lips were like rose stamens. Also turned blue, even her eyelids also turned blue.My heart beats to my ears, whirring, drowning out the sound of the pervert getting dressed.Immediately afterwards, my mind turned to silence. I touched her cheek with my cold hand, and her cheek was even colder than mine.She doesn't move.I put my ear close to her mouth, my own chest constricted and I couldn't breathe.I couldn't hear my heartbeat, I didn't hear anything.Then, I put my ear to her small boobs, only to hear my own heart beating wildly. I pinch her nose, blow into her mouth, and push her chest.I heard the aiming sound of a child faintly coming from the room, and my heart jumped for joy!Later, I found out that the person who made the sound was myself.In between artificial respirations, I put my ear against her mouth.Please, alas, please, just take a breath.God help me, please. Too late.She is already too cold. I sat stiffly at the end of the bed, desperately denying the fact that the daughter in my arms was dead.The psychopath stared down at us, unmoved. Tell you clearly that you should take her to see a doctor.I clearly told you!I yelled at him, holding the child with one hand, and pounding his leg with the other. He slapped me across the face, then said in a flat tone: Give me the baby, Annie. I shake my head. He grabbed my throat with one hand, and held the baby's body from underneath with the other.We glared at each other.The hand pinching the throat began to tighten. I let go. He took the baby from my arms, got up, and walked to the door. I want to talk, I can say anything, I just ask him to stop, but unfortunately I can't make my mouth open and shout out any words.In the end, I lifted her blanket and threw it towards his receding back, choking up and shouting: "It's cold, she's cold." He stopped, walked back, and stood in front of me.He took the blanket and just stared at the blanket in his hand, I couldn't read his mind.I reach out for the baby, beseeching him with my eyes.His eyes met mine, and for a moment I seemed to see a flickering expression, as if he was slightly hesitating, but his eyes darkened immediately, and his face turned cold-blooded and heartless.He covered the baby's head with a blanket. I started yelling. He walked out the door and I jumped off the bed, too late. My fingernail planer was holding on to the door, and I tried desperately to dig it, but I couldn't get it open no matter how hard I tried.I kicked and bumped against the door, my bruised body couldn't stand up, and in the end I could only put my face against the door, calling her secret name until my throat became callused. He was gone for two days.I don't know how long I've been sticking it on the door, I just know that my throat keeps yelling, begging him to bring the child back.I kept holding on to the door, and my fingers bled and my nails were ruined, but there was no trace left on the door.I ended up going back to bed and crying until my tear glands couldn't produce any more tears. There is no way out, in order to ease the heartache, I used my brain, trying to understand the whole story of the incident, trying to figure out a clue from it, but no matter how I think about it, I think it is my fault that I am asleep, and she will die .Did she cry?I stretched my ears to listen to her voice all the time, it was impossible to miss the crying.Or, I'm just too tired and sleepy, so I didn't hear it?It's my fault, it's all my fault, I should get up in the middle of the night to check. I was sitting on the bed with my back against the wall when the pervert opened the door and came in.Even if he kills me on the spot, I will let it be.But when he strolled toward me, I saw something in his arms, and I jumped up.she is alive!He handed me the things in his arms.It was her blanket, and only her blanket. I punched the pervert's chest with my whole body, pounded it, and yelled repeatedly with each punch: You sick bastard, sick bastard, sick bastard!He grabbed my arm and grabbed me so I couldn't hit him.I am like a mad cat in a dark alley, scratching at the air. where is she?Spit was flying.Tell me quickly, you bastard.What did you do to her? He actually said with a puzzled face: But, I brought back her What you brought back was a blanket, a blanket.Do you think blankets can replace my daughter?idiot!A hysterical chuckle chattered from my lips before breaking into a laugh. He let go of my arm, and my feet hit the ground with a thump, and I stumbled a few steps forward.Before I could get my weight back, he pulled one hand back and hit me on the jaw.The floor came straight for me, and the room was pitch black. When I awoke, I was lying alone on the bed with a swollen jaw.He must have helped me to bed.The baby's blanket was neatly folded on the pillow next to me. To this day, no one knows the little baby's real name!Even the police don't know.Several times, I wanted to shout out to myself, but her name was stuck in my throat and locked in my heart. When the pervert walked out with her body in his arms, he took all that was left of me with him.She died or was killed when she was only four weeks old.four weeks.How is it enough to live only four weeks?She spent nine times as long in the womb as she did on earth. I'd seen toddlers her age in magazines and wondered if she'd look like them in the world.Is her hair still black?What color will the eyeballs become?When she grows up, will she always smile or be serious?I will never know. My clearest memory of that night was him sitting at the end of the bed with the baby in his arms, so I thought, did he do it?Then I think he killed the child indirectly, if not intentionally, by refusing to see a doctor.It was easier to hate him, easier to blame him, otherwise I would keep replaying the images of that night, trying to remember the sleeping position when I put her back in bed at the end.I would sometimes convince myself that she ended up lying down, probably choked to death by phlegm from pneumonia, and that I shouldn't have let her lie down.In an instant, I thought, no, she should have slept on her stomach in the end.I wondered if I would sleep soundly on the bed within one and a half meters while she was being smothered to death.I heard that if a child's life is in danger, the mother should know.I don't know.Doctor, why don't I have any premonition at all?