"Tape!" the man said.
"Well, I, I don't think we should do this..." the woman said, but she still handed over the tape. It was black and wide. After the man took it, he tore off a section and slapped it directly on the mouth of the crying teenager. .
The basement is much quieter.
"Don't tell me what to do and what not to do!!" The man probably felt it was too quiet and was not used to it, so he used his own voice to continue building momentum, "Check his hands and legs!"
The woman pursed her lips and checked. The binding was tight, with no possibility of loosening. The woman gave the tied boy an apologetic look, then turned to the man who started spinning around, "Nick, what are we doing now?"
The man continued to circle, grabbing his hair and contorting his face.
The woman whispered, "Nick, Nick? What are we doing now? Honey..."
"Don't yell at me!!" Man, Nick waved his hands and yelled, "Go get me a cup of coffee! Don't bother me here!"
The woman felt a little aggrieved, so she stood up silently, pursed her lips and walked up the stairs. She turned around and asked, "Sugar or milk?"
"Milk!!" Nick went crazy and started shaking his fist at the woman on the stairs, "How many times! Milk! Milk! Milk!! How many times do you want me to say it, stupid woman!!"
The woman shook, quickly ran up the stairs, and closed the basement door. Immediately, he breathed a sigh of relief, waved his hands impatiently, and walked to the kitchen.
The woman remembered something, took a detour, walked out of the front door, took out today's mail from the mailbox, and walked back to the kitchen while flipping through it.
Bills, advertisements, the Southern District Police Department's census questionnaire, poll letters, the new issue of the magazine "Urban Legends - Patton Weekly", the Patton Daily News... and a letter.
Things that did not receive attention were naturally put down casually, leaving only a letter and "Urban Legend" in the woman's hand. The coffee pot was placed on the stove, and the woman looked at the title on the cover of the magazine: "Women's Monster Love Story—Piecing Medicine." She hesitated for a moment, then opened the letter without a return address on the envelope—
'Didi':
Still, writing letters to myself feels really weird and I'll never get used to it.
I'm doing fine. How are you, has Nick changed in any way... I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't ask, but, I... I'm sorry.
I met a man who was handsome, strong, and caring. he treats me well. Never hurt me. Unlike Nick, he is never impulsive and vents his emotions to others randomly. He is very calm and mature. I feel very happy.
He proposed and I said yes.
I'm still a little worried about my identity. I don’t know how to describe it, but part of me still feels like I’m still in Barton South. She is Nick's wife, living miserably in his shadow... I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said this.
Can you help me with one last thing? another me.
I'm engaged and I'm going to start another life, but I'm a little worried about my identity. I don't quite understand this, it was in the identity information Mr. Walker (Indian businessman who bought and sold identities, Steve Walker) gave me. There is little content about the family. I'm getting married, a new marriage. I need to know this. I don’t want my new husband to ask me questions and not know how to answer.
This is the last letter I write to you, my other self. I am starting a new life and it is time to say goodbye to the past. Thanks, my other self. Your appearance is the greatest happiness in my life.
Take care of yourself.
—Didi, who once lived in pain
Woman, 'Dee Dee', er, Didi. He curled up his lips, read the letter again, picked up the hot pot, lingered on the writing on it for the last time, and threw it into the fire.
A dull roar came from the basement, "Stupid woman, where's my coffee!!"
Didi turned his head, rubbed his face, and said with an aggrieved expression, "Honey, right away!" But his movements were still calm and slow. He took out a cup from the cupboard and milk from the refrigerator, while flipping through the "Urban Legends" spread out on the countertop while holding the coffee pot.
"Hurry up!! Woman!"
"Here it comes!" Didi closed the magazine, glanced at the stove covered with ashes, scanned it twice and put it in the trash can, then walked to the basement with the coffee.
When I pushed the door open, I was met.
"If you keep trying too hard, lazy woman, I'll break your legs!" Nick's face was ferocious.
"Your coffee!" Didi hid her face behind the raised coffee cup and replied aggrievedly.
"Hmph!" Nick snatched it away, "Where's that old camera at home?! Where is it?"
"In the cabinet in the bedroom." Didi looked longingly at George who took a sip of coffee, as if expecting praise.
Of course not, "Then why are you still standing here!!" Nick yelled, "Go get it! You have to tell me everything before you do it! You idiot!"
Didi lowered his head in "grievance" and silently went upstairs.
Ah, the bedroom.
Placed on the dressing table is a group photo, a wedding photo of two people in this family, Nick and Didi. They look quite happy, the young couple in love cuddling and smiling at the world.
Didi picked up the photo, looked at the mirror on the dressing table, and pushed it on her face.
Well, it seems that the nose is a bit higher than Didi's in the photo, press it down a bit; the opening of the double eyelids seems to be a bit smaller, open up a bit; the corners of the eyes seem to hang down a bit, push them up...
Wait, Didi canceled the last two actions. What, this is a natural change with human age, okay? Didi snickered at having caught her ridiculous behavior early, put the photo back, and walked to the closet.
I opened it, took out the camera, and checked it. It seemed that there was no film left.
"Honey, do you want to take a photo? It seems there is no film left..." Didi leaned against the guardrail of the stairs and said to Nick below.
"Seems like?! Is there still more!" Nick waved the cup in his hand vigorously, and the dark coffee spilled out, "Are you stupid! Why should I use the camera if you don't take pictures! Should I beat you!!"
Didi retracted her body and curled her lips where the other party couldn't see her, while maintaining an aggrieved and nervous tone, "I, I remember there is new film! I'll look for it..."
"Then mop the floor! **!" Nick shook the coffee stains on his arm and threw the cup away. He pushed open the basement door hard and went back.
"Film." Didi muttered to herself and started to look for it. There was nothing in the closet or on the dressing table. under the bed
Didi dug out something good.
A wooden box, opened, a diary and several rolls of used film.
The notes in the diary are the same as the notes in the letter just now, so just read one.
My mother came to see me, but I couldn't see her. Because of my face. There are also bruises left by Nick, which can no longer be covered by foundation.
I hid in the basement, leaning against the door, and listened to Nick lie to my mother. He said, "Deedee went to a friend's house and won't be back today."
My mother said, "No, she called me and asked me to come..."
"Haha. She must have made a joke. She is at a friend's house. Do you want me to call her friend to confirm?"
"Uh, no need. She didn't say what she wanted me to do. I'll come back next time."
I was already behind the door, crying again. because I know. The moment my mother walked out the door, Nick would come over. 'Punishment' I dialed a number I shouldn't have dialed...
And that's why I write with my left hand now.
I'm getting better at it.
Didi closed the diary, tugged at the corner of his mouth, and looked at the used film again. The black and white pictures were very violent, so I won't describe them.
Didi found the new film in the box and loaded it. Put away the wooden box. After tidying up my appearance, I went downstairs.
On the stairs of the basement, Didi put on a nervous smile and said, "Honey, camera." He handed it out. "I'm going to mop the floor."
"Tsk!" Nick checked the camera and gestured to the teenager who was tied up in the middle of the basement. "I saw the newspaper on the desk, bring it over!"
"Okay." Didi nodded and moved quickly under Nick's sight... just in sight. After leaving the basement, she started to relax again.
He stepped on his feet and jumped over the coffee stains on the ground as if playing. He picked up the cup casually, put it on his finger and twirled it towards the counter.
When I picked up the newspaper, I glanced at it. The biggest photo on the front page was of the new director of the North District, wrapped in a pile of microphones, and seemed to be being interviewed. The title was sensational - "The new police chief was assassinated and the forensic officer died."
"Newspaper, dear."
Nick took it, "Is it today's..." His pupils shrank, probably because he saw the words "police chief". The atmosphere in the basement froze for a moment, and then, snap!
The newspaper was thrown to the ground by Nick!
"**!"
"Nick, Nick?" Didi carefully moved to the door, "Honey, what's wrong?"
"Did you do it on purpose!!" Nick roared angrily, glaring at Didi who was pressing the handle, ready to run out at any moment.
"What's wrong with me?" Didi asked nervously and fearfully.
"What's wrong with you?! You ask me what's wrong with you?!" Nick was approaching, but he just didn't explain. how to explain? A guy who tied up a struggling teenager in a basement saw the words Chief of Police, and it had this weird psychological effect that I can't explain.
So it turned into a slap.
Didi failed to dodge in time and crashed out of the basement exit like a rag bag. She covered her face and huddled in the coffee stains.
"Stupid woman!" Nick stared at the curled up Didi, "Get up!"
Didi stood up against the wall, covering the side of his face and lowering his head to avoid everything.
"Go!" Nick continued to order, "find me something that can prove the date!"
Didi nodded cringingly, moved, covered her face, pressed against the wall, and moved forward carefully...
"hurry up!!"
Didi trembled and quickened his pace. Something to prove the date
If Didi doesn't want to continue to be slapped, then she has to be quick, she has to be quick... Aha! Didi picked up "Urban Legend", covered her face, and quickly returned to the basement, "Dear, dear, the magazine will be published today..."
Nick took it, turned it over, and said with a sullen face, oh, of course it wasn't pity for Didi, he was talking about pity, "I don't remember ordering this kind of magazine!"
"I, I decided."
"Prodigal woman!" Nick raised his hand, as if he was about to wave at Didi again, but stopped midway, clicked his tongue, threw the magazine towards the tied boy with his backhand, and straightened it.
The camera lens focused on the young man with a frightened face and the magazine in front of him that could prove the date, click.
Nick seemed dissatisfied, or maybe he just didn't want to waste the film. Click, click, click...
"Go and wash it out, and then buy more glue..." Nick glanced at Didi, who was still huddled on the stairs with her face covered, "Tsk! Useless woman, look at him here!" He grabbed the camera and went upstairs.
After a while, the front door, the engine, and the distant sound sounded in sequence.
Didi still covered her face and glanced at the boy who still had the magazine in front of him, "Poor kid." Didi spoke, stood up, and took away the magazine, "He asked me to watch you, and you won't move. Bar."
The boy was unable to speak, and was covered with tape. The boy couldn't move and was tied tightly. The young man could only nod in horror, why? Probably at the beginning, this woman gave him an apologetic look. As well as what I just saw, both of them should be victims.
The boy looked at Didi, his eyes conveying something. However, Didi took the magazine and turned back, "Then stay well." He left the basement, leaving behind a whining and struggling sound.
The face that was covered loosened up. Cracks, Didi returned to the bedroom, glanced at half of her face covered in cracks in the mirror, pursed her lips, and began to pick up the photo on the dressing table and 'repair' it bit by bit.
A piece of nose fell off, Didi picked up the powder puff and slowly applied it back. The cheekbones were lifted up, smoothed, and put back together. The corners of his eyes were sunken, which was a bit difficult to deal with. Didi poked his fingers into his eye sockets, pushing out the 'face' that should be in the correct position little by little...
After finishing it, Didi started to make various expressions in front of the mirror, including joy, anger, sorrow, and joy. After confirming that this was a normal face, she nodded with satisfaction. She seemed to be in a good mood and opened the magazine. Of course, it was the article about the medicine. .
It's just the beginning of spring, and Louise has already started shaking her money tree on the street at night...
But after reading only the beginning, Didi remembered something and headed to the living room with the magazine. I found a comfortable position, spread out the magazine in front of me and continued while picking up the phone and dialing.
Louis had no idea what her behavior would attract, such as the well-dressed beasts in this city. Have you seen the gentleman approaching? Don’t be fooled by his decent clothes and pretty face. He is a monster that lives on blood, and the way he looks at Louis is looking at food...
Didi raised her eyebrows and muttered to herself, "Oh, this is the story of the acquaintance of Grande's vampire and Louise..."
"Walker." The call went through, "Who am I talking to?"
"Ah, Mr. Walker." Didi stopped temporarily, "It's me, Didi, remember?"
"Uh, Didi." The tone was weird.
"Haha, do you remember, Didi from the South District, two identical women who share the same identity."
"I, I remember. You bought an identity for the extra person."
"Well, just remember." Didi smiled, "Haha, Sibella said that you already know about the alien race. We are actually not the same person, haha, she is a human being, and I am not."
"You... you are a foreigner."
"Well, Mirror Man, if you're curious." Didi said casually, "I want to ask about the identity we bought before. Well, that's it." Didi played with the phone cord, "She I’m going to get married and start a new life with a new identity, but I don’t know about the family aspects of the new identity. Can you send her an explanation?”
"Uh, I... Okay, I get it."
"Do you need an address?"
"No need, I can find an identity that I can sell."
"Oh, thank you then. Have a nice day."
"The same to you."
Bye. (.)