His voice was nice, but a little hoarse, and he asked softly, "Is there any medicine to relax? If I'm in a normal state, I might not want to talk about those."
His tone was natural.
The psychiatrist was slightly taken aback.
As a doctor, I have seen many patients. Most patients have unspeakable secrets in their hearts. This is normal. But when it comes to secrets, this child is the first one who asks for medicine so calmly.
She said: "Yes, wait a moment."
The doctor fetched the syringe, and the boy lowered his eyes and lifted up his sleeves, revealing his white wrists. The color was dazzling and fragile, and there was a kind of milky cuteness.
After injecting the drug, the other party lowered their eyelids, their eyelashes resting like the wings of a butterfly.
"Feeling better?" the doctor asked.
The other party nodded, his slender eyelashes drooping slightly, covering his pupils, he seemed a little sleepy.
"Then let's start." The doctor tried his best to use a gentle and gentle tone, "Your mother didn't tell me what you want to consult. Now you can ask. I will also keep the content of our conversation confidential."
The other party didn't seem to hear it, and after a long silence with downcast eyes, he said, "I like men."
The psychiatrist was taken aback.
When the boy said this, he had no expression on his face and had a very peaceful attitude. It's just that the face is really pale and fragile like a beautiful porcelain doll.
My own business does not involve homosexuality, but the other party started with this sentence, so there should be something else to say. So the doctor nodded and smiled softly: "Are you troubled by this?"
"Don't worry," the boy shook his head, "I think it's... very good."
The doctor pursed his lips slightly in surprise.
She carefully poured a glass of water and put it by the boy's hand before continuing: "Why do you think it's good? The social environment is so harsh and there are many difficulties."
The boy on the opposite side clenched his fingers slightly, his knuckles were icy white, he looked like a sleepy and pitiful milk cat, he tightened his fingers repeatedly, and finally opened his lips slightly, his voice was almost whispering.
"I... When I was a child. Seven years old, eight years old, I forgot... Passing a small alley, a drunk woman stopped me, she was, she was disgusting..."
The boy's fingertips turned whiter.
The psychiatrist was startled, and quickly lowered his voice, "Relax, it's fine, you're in my office now, you're safe."
The milk cat drooped its eyelashes, expressionless, and still clenched its fingers, and replied lightly: "I know."
He seemed calm.
The psychiatrist was a little relieved, but still worried, and asked, "Do you still need to inject medicine?"
The other party shook his head slightly.
"Then, go ahead," the psychiatrist said cautiously, "did she... hurt you?"
She looked at the boy opposite.
He is so beautiful, fair and cute, with a beautiful collarbone at the collar, which has a kind of tenderness and tenderness. It is conceivable that when this child was a child, he must have looked as beautiful as an angel, pure and dust-free.
"No." The other party slightly pulled the corners of his lips, his face was pale to transparent, and his eyelashes drooped.
"I was scared. I touched the tiles and hit her on the head... She was bleeding, but I was still scared. I used that thing and hit her many times... A lot of blood, I felt terrible and disgusting …”
In a quiet alley, a woman reeking of alcohol.