Lin Yan stood in front of the sink and looked at himself in the mirror. He had a white cotton shirt, jeans, and a very delicate and clean face, but it was a pity that he looked haggard, his eyes were bloodshot, and the two deep bruises under his eyes were life-threatening. A few years old.
Since being stared at by that thing, it has been many days without a good night's sleep.
Lin Yan patted his cheek vigorously, trying to bring some blood to his face, then turned on the faucet to collect water and brushed his teeth. His shadow was reflected on the black lacquered glass washbasin, no, not only his shadow. Lin Yan stared at the distorted reflection on the arc surface, his lips began to tremble slightly, a gust of wind blew in through the window, and the incandescent lamp flickered a few times as if the voltage was unstable.
Someone is standing behind.
Lin Yan buried his face in his hands, and there was no trace of warmth in his palms. The temperature in his whole body was drained by the shadow. Life, studies, friends, and family all changed drastically one night two weeks ago, like a thunderbolt. It happened to hit the alley, and he was the one walking in the alley unconsciously holding an umbrella.
Why is it him? The world is so big and there are so many choices, why did you choose him
Lin Yan laughed dryly twice, put his hands on the cold glass basin, and slowly raised his head to look in the mirror.
There is a "person" standing behind him.
To be precise, it was a black shadow, tall, with large amounts of old blood stains on its clothes, standing barefoot not far behind Lin Yan, with a pair of ruthless and deep eyes staring straight at Lin Yan in his long black hair. Lin Yan.
Those eyes that shocked him deeply from the first time he saw them were paranoid, desperate, crazy, with strong unwillingness and even resentment. It can't be opened with a light touch of a finger, and even the blood and flesh are connected with the coldness that can't be warmed up. Once the blood is broken, the bones are exposed, and it will be put into the mouth and sucked fiercely.
There was no escape, no escape at all. Lin Yan was holding a toothbrush in his mouth. Even though it was May weather, he felt as if he had been thrown into ice water. He was cold from head to toe.
What the old monk said flashed through my mind, "Jiazi day of Wushen month, your lifespan will be exhausted."
His lifespan is coming to an end, his lifespan is coming to an end, not to mention there are still more than three months, even if his mother dies now, she can't be scared to death by ghosts, is she tired of performing this show every day
"What are you going to do!" Lin Yan couldn't bear to growl at the figure in the mirror, his throat was hoarse, and the knuckles of his fingers seemed to be frozen. The black shadow came up from behind, with his hands folded in front of Lin Yan's belly, his chin resting on his shoulder, in an extremely dependent and possessive posture. His whole body was wrapped in cold, his disheveled hair rubbed against Lin Yan's face, his lips kissed all the way from his ear to his neck, across his collarbone, the electroplated metal flashed a cold light, it was the first button of his shirt...
A hard and slender hand clasped Lin Yan's throat.
That thing never allowed him to resist, terribly stubborn, paranoid and selfish, he said he wanted it, and Lin Yan had to give it to him, his person, his heart, his body, and finally his life.
Lin Yan couldn't make a sound, and was so tired that he didn't want to make a sound. He raised his head and tried his best to maintain a sliver of clarity in the impending hypoxia and suffocation. One person and one ghost stood deadlocked in front of the mirror.
"Let's go." Lin Yan's upper and lower teeth were grinding against the bone-chilling cold, and his voice could not stop trembling: "Human beings and ghosts have different paths."
After a momentary pause, Lin Yan shouted hoarsely: "Get the fuck out of here!"
The hand stuck on the neck disappeared. Lin Yan opened his eyes. In the mirror, he stood stiffly with his neck up. One button of his shirt was unbuttoned, revealing a clear crimson hickey on his collarbone.
Still holding the glass firmly in his hand, Lin Yan turned around suddenly, and slammed the glass at the place where the shadow should be. The tiles are dripping down, but the bathroom is empty.
Lin Yan stood alone, holding a toothbrush in his hand.
There was no answer, and the brightness of the lamp was restored again. Lin Yan looked back at the window and turned his hand upwards to lock it tightly.
Ten seconds later, Lin Yan stuffed the toothbrush into his mouth and continued to brush his teeth.
At this time, it has been nearly two weeks since Lin Yan's materialistic worldview that he had insisted on for 22 years collapsed.
The author has something to say: This is a story about a ghost and a gentle ghost haunting a person.