emblème du lys

Chapitre 9

I found it unbelievable, but I was also very happy; it felt like I had escaped death.

The next day, when I got up, I found something that would haunt me forever: a scalpel lying under the bed, a scalpel that gleamed with a cold, sharp light.

That afternoon, I went to her room again, but the door was closed. The old lady next door told me that no one had rented the room since that woman committed suicide.

From then on, I dared not touch any corpses again, and I even dared not stay in medical school anymore. I had no choice but to change careers and become a pharmaceutical distributor.

But did what happened that night actually happen?

To this day, I still haven't found the answer.

---Cute Pink Little Pig

Reply [38]: Broken? Not happy.

---soway

Reply [39]: How come the first story ended after the baby was born??

I've read the second story.

hehe

I'll still give a thumbs up to the guy downstairs~

---Liao Liao and the Dog

Reply [40]: There's no break~~ I posted them one story at a time~

And I only post stories that I find interesting.

^_^

I'm a responsible and good piggy~

---Cute Pink Little Pig

Reply [41]: Is there anything else?

---Chou Jingjing

Reply [42]: Why is there no ending to the first story?

---rmd15

Reply [43]: I'm watching~ I'll post any good stories I see!

---Cute Pink Little Pig

Reply [44]: Encourage you

---A blazing fire to light a cigarette

Reply [45]: Okay

---Teacher of All Ages

Reply [46]: Nightmare

You are in a hospital with soft lighting from the ceiling and marble floors that look like polished glass. You worry that you might slip if you take a step.

"Hospitals shouldn't have such smooth marble floors!" you cursed inwardly, but you still took a step.

You're going to visit an old friend who was injured in a car accident yesterday. A crazy motorcycle ran over his shinbone, and I heard it was a comminuted fracture.

"This guy never listens to me," you think to yourself, shaking your head. "How many times have I told him to be careful when crossing the street lately?"

The reason you said that to him is because you saw him being run over by a car in your dream. It's a bit unbelievable, but you know your dreams are very accurate. Yes, very accurate. Nothing predicts the future better than a vivid dream.

Three years ago, you dreamt that your father was standing in front of you, soaking wet. You and he just stared at each other silently, without saying a word. The next day, your father fell into the river and drowned on his way home from his night shift.

After that day, you didn't dare to sleep for a whole week.

Now, you're carrying a bag of gifts, your steps are careful and heavy. You enter a hall, walk straight through, turn left, and you see two elevator doors.

You swear you've never been to this hospital before, but you know where the elevator is, as if you're a regular. The two small iron trees by the elevator entrance and the blue waiting chairs opposite the elevator make you feel very welcome.

Your friend is in the orthopedic ward on the thirteenth floor. You sit on the waiting chair, watching the numbers on the electronic indicator on the elevator door descend one by one. You loosen your tie and, for some reason, suddenly feel a little nervous.

The door opened, and a nurse came out, giving you a slight smile.

"Hello!" you say politely.

"Hello!" she replied as you passed her. She must have been wearing some kind of perfume; a faint fragrance lingered in the elevator.

You're certain you've smelled this fragrance somewhere before; it's so familiar. Did your female colleague in the next department use this perfume? Or did you smell it on your sister's dressing table? Damn it! You just can't remember, which is frustrating you. You decide to find out after visiting your patient.

You pressed the "13th floor" button and the close button, and the elevator doors slowly closed from both sides. In that instant, you felt like you were being buried alive, a feeling that was utterly ridiculous.

The elevator begins to ascend floor by floor. You feel a little dizzy. You rarely ride elevators and are unusually sensitive to the slight fluctuations in blood pressure caused by the ascent. You hate elevators.

The elevator stopped on the 4th floor. A chubby man wearing gold-rimmed glasses got in. He pressed the "10th floor" button, glanced at you, and then crossed his arms behind his back.

The elevator started moving again.

"This elevator is so slow!" he said, as if speaking to you, yet also as if talking to himself.

This situation seems familiar; I've seen it somewhere before. A fat man with gold-rimmed glasses stands beside me, and the words he says, his expression, his tone—I've seen it before.

"Yes," you replied, straightening your back.

---Cute Pink Little Pig

Reply [47]: “You are…” the fat man said.

"13th floor, visiting a friend! His leg is broken." You answered before he finished speaking, because you seemed to know what he was going to ask.