White City Murder Expo

It's a pity that Cillian doesn't seem to like the joke, and even looks a little scared.I said to him, "I don't give you the right to dress so you can hide, Inspector."

He glanced at me so quickly that I couldn't see the meaning of his eyes for a split second.He then quickly apologized to me. "I won't do this again... Sue." I don't know if I'm too sensitive, I think he called my name on purpose after hesitating for a while, he wanted to please me, but it's useless now.

I was very disappointed with Cillian today and did not cook him lunch as punishment.But in the evening, seeing his listless appearance, I soon relented and put the canceled dinner back on the agenda.Well, it's always like this, so I don't think I'm a person who can do good or bad things.

I was going to leave very early at night. On the way back, I had a weird feeling, as if someone was following me, but when I turned around, there was nothing.Am I too paranoid?

Back home, Butcher was reading on the sofa in the living room with a bottle of wine in front of him.After I saw it, I walked over and wrapped the hair behind his ears for him. The roots of his hair were wet with sweat. "Just came back?" I threw a handkerchief to Butcher, who responded vaguely, took it and wiped it on his face indiscriminately.

I asked him again: "Why are you drinking?" Then I patted him on the shoulder and told him to move over, let me sit next to him, and confiscated the wine on the table by the way.He glanced at me, closed the book, and put it aside.

"How else would you notice me?" he said.

I didn't know how to respond, thought for a while, reached out and rubbed his hair, and then tried to casually ask him what happened recently as before.I didn't know any of the classmates Butcher mentioned, I just listened.Suddenly, Butcher asked me about my plans for tomorrow in detail. I hesitated, and he immediately said, "You don't even remember."

"Don't remember what?"

"Tomorrow is your birthday, Sue."

"Oh," I said, "oh. And there's this."

Birthday.It seems that no one has paid attention to it since I was a child, including myself.How old am I now?However, Butcher actually remembered that I was actually very moved.I don't want to lie to him, but I don't know what to say.I put my hands on my knees and clasped them together. "Well," I said, "I've got to think about it." I couldn't think about it for too long, or Butcher would get suspicious.Soon I told him what I was going to do, if nothing else, except that instead of the part where I went to Sirian's, I was going to see a friend of mine.

"And then you're going to the pharmacy?" Butcher asked.

I thought for a while: "Yes."

"Then can you come back early at night?" He said in a discussing tone.

"OK." I said.

"How about a shower tonight?" he asked again.

I lifted the newspaper to cover my face, seeing that he had no intention of walking away, and after a long time, I said, "Okay."

I didn't like how Butcher spoke to me in such a indulgent tone, as if I were a child.But it's out of good intentions after all... How can you bear to accuse someone who cares about you?

**

I went to Sirian's the next morning and left him a large loaf of bread, water, milk and a can of beef.I told him that nothing happened and I wouldn't show up for the rest of the day.Cillian showed no surprise.

"You don't expect me to be here at all, do you?" I said.

Cillian said, "If you never come here again, I'm going to starve to death." After he finished, he gave me a nervous look. "You wouldn't do that, would you?"

I have never considered this yet.I said, "That's what I meant to scare you."

Cillian laughed awkwardly, and I interrupted him suddenly: "Wait. Did you hear anything?"

"Impossible," said Cillian, "this is the second floor."

"I always feel that downstairs..." I said, thinking about going down immediately to have a look.For a split second I heard what seemed to be a door opening downstairs, which was horrific.I scoured the ground floor, looking for nooks and crannies where people could hide, but found nothing.I kicked a chair over, and after the sudden anger dissipated, I stood there blankly again, and had to admit that it might be an auditory hallucination caused by suspicion.I had to go upstairs again, double-checked the rope around Cillian's ankle before leaving, and told him, "Next time I won't forgive you. You know what I'm talking about?"

Cillian sat silently in the bathtub and picked up a book from his side.This level of non-cooperation is not enough to piss me off, and I really have to go, and Butcher is still waiting for me to go home early.

I opened the door and went out. When I turned to lock the door, I was surprised that the key was still on the door.I often do such stupid things at home, but it’s better to be serious about Cillian. I told myself in my heart that I must not be negligent next time, so I locked the door with the key on the door, took the key out and put it in my pocket. Then drove away.

I'm going to the pharmaceutical factory now, it's not far away, but it's boring to be alone.I rolled down the window and tried to reach for a cigarette from my pocket, but before my fingers touched the cigarette case, I noticed two keys in my pocket.At first I didn't realize it, I thought it belonged to my own family and Sirian's family, until I remembered that I put my house key in my jacket pocket this morning, and it was indeed so.What's that extra in the pocket?I parked the car on the side of the road and took out the contents of my trouser pockets. A blue pen, a dirty handkerchief, some change, and two identical keys—Cillian's key.

I'm a bit confused, why is this happening?If I didn't leave the key on the door, I really heard the movement downstairs... I was shocked and confused at the same time, and I couldn't figure out what the hell was going on.But I almost immediately chose to turn around and go back, my heart beating like a drum along the way, as if something bad was about to happen...

It really happens.

I stopped the car and saw two people standing next to Cillian's car parked in the yard. I got out of the car and ran over with difficulty. They seemed to have seen me, and immediately opened the car door and climbed into the car. I heard the sound of the engine starting.Even closer, I could already see the driver—it was Butcher, and Cillian was in the passenger seat.For a moment I froze in shock.Butcher, how could it be Butcher?

"Butcher Sides." I called his name desperately, stopped in front of the car, and didn't have any intention of going away.Let it end like this, I was looking forward to him with all my heart at that moment, I couldn't be considered alive anyway, I just happened to be alive.

But the car stopped in front of me.Through the car window, I saw Butcher's bewildered expression, and the frightened Cillian's face beside him.After being dazed for a moment, Cillian opened the car door and jumped out. I tried to stop him, but he punched me almost without hesitation. A shot was fired at Ann's feet, narrowly avoiding hitting him.But Cillian was frightened for a moment, and so was Butcher.

"Stop him, don't let him go!" I yelled emotionally, like a drunk, even though I didn't drink a drop.The scene was extremely chaotic for a while, and finally I knocked Cillian unconscious with the help of Butcher. Before he fell to the ground, I took his arm to lift him up, walked towards the house, walked past the cloth When I approached Cher, I gave him a warning look.Butcher gasped, looked at his hands helplessly, took half a step back, and leaned against the car.

I dragged Cillian into the house and noticed the huge hole in the French window pane of the living room, with some broken glass scattered on the floor.That's probably where the two of them came in and out, and I'm going to ask Butcher what's going on in a while.I'm so tired right now, I don't have the strength to get angry, and in the aftertaste of panic, I want to drink like crazy, but I know it's not the time yet.I wanted to tie Cillian back again, but looking at the stairs leading to the second floor, I felt that he was no longer worth it.I originally chose the bathroom because I wanted to take care of him. If I really want to kidnap someone, I should choose a place that is safer for the kidnapper.

So I dragged him to the basement and tied him to a chair.Next time I come I'll put him in real chains, and I won't give Sirian another chance to leave me.There was a stale smell in the basement, with dust floating in the air.I struck a match and lit the lamp so that if he woke up and I wasn't there, he wouldn't be too scared.

With that done, I locked the basement door and went out, while Butcher was still waiting outside.The moment I saw him, I felt that the cause and effect were not important.Since when did he start following me and find the keys to Cillian's house from under the flowerpot or under the rug, it doesn't make sense to figure it out, it's already happened.Am I going to have a big fight with him?I knew early on, Butcher, my only child, that there was nothing I could do with him.

"Is it because I snubbed you all this time?" I asked.

Butcher didn't speak.

"Sorry." I said.

Butcher remained silent.

I sighed, and went to hug him, which felt strange because he was taller than me, and for a moment I almost thought I was hugging a completely strange man, and soon Butcher hugged back Hold me, put your head on my shoulder, and take a deep breath.

"Daddy, can we move out? Get out of this place and start living again..."

"What? Stop joking," I said to him genially. "Let's go."

I got in the car, put Butcher in the passenger seat, and I started the car.I still feel sad when I think about it, the only thing I didn't expect was Butcher's betrayal.

"Why are you doing this?"

"……I'm scared."

"Do you remember Petra?" I said, "I was scared too, baby."

Butcher was very pale.The wind came in through the half-opened car window, blowing his black hair up and covering his face, so I couldn't see his expression.

Halfway through the car, he asked, "Where is this going?"

"Mental hospital."

I said, and Butcher turned to look at me in disbelief, and then he'd see I wasn't joking.

His pupils narrowed and he looked terrified, "Impossible, my God, you can't..." He unbuckled his seat belt, as if he wanted to jump, and I pressed the gas pedal to the bottom-this time jumping is only dead one.He held the door handle tightly and tightly, but in the end he didn't have the guts to call my name in a crying voice.Sue, he said, Dad, please...

Soon we will be there.He was outside the high wall of the hospital, and refused to go in no matter what. He kicked and shouted, and shook off my hand violently to run out. Before he ran far, a tall nurse who heard the sound caught up with him. Pushing Butcher to the ground, I hurried over and begged them not to be so rude with a trembling voice. One of the nurses looked up at me and squeezed out a smile: "This is a necessary method, yes You and him are fine." Then they tied Butcher to the hospital like a prisoner.

"Uh, your name isn't here. Don't you have an appointment?"

The nurse at the front desk asked me.

"Yes, sorry," I said.

The nurse who was holding Butcher looked at each other in blank dismay, momentarily at a loss.It turned out that they mistook me for another Mr. X who had already made an appointment, so they acted so quickly.At this time, the situation became a bit embarrassing, but it could be remedied. I made an appointment with the doctor on the spot, and after waiting for about half an hour, the doctor showed up.

He saw Butcher's "violent behavior" from the window. Butcher's shouting and sudden escape behavior convinced him that the poor child needed treatment, and he made a diagnosis with little hesitation.Up to this point I had had the chance to turn around with Butcher, but I didn't.I even got Butcher hospitalized and he started calling my name in disbelief again, whining like a small animal in a trap.

After the nurses controlled him, the doctor gave him a sedative. I turned my head away, not wanting to see Butcher staring into my eyes and his body slowly softening.Just as I was about to say something, the doctor took off his glasses, wiped them with the corner of his clothes, and put them back on the bridge of his nose: "It's all special measures, sir. When he passes the onset time, he won't take such strict measures again." measure."

The corners of my mouth twitched, and a voice in my head yelled: You are the fucking sick, and Butcher is fine!And I didn't say that in the end, and even thanked him because I came out of the blue.

"We can totally understand, Mr. Sedders. It is a very difficult decision for most families to make an appointment in advance to send their children to a mental hospital. We often encounter patients and their families who visit unexpectedly. It's not a problem," said the doctor.When he spoke, his tone was calm and unwavering, as if he had said a memorized line 1000 million times, and the whole sentence was only sound and meaningless.

In the back of my head, one voice said: This is a very, very indifferent place; another voice said: They will take good care of Butcher, better than you.

Then I came home alone, turned on the light, and sat at the dining table all night, not feeling sleepy at all, just a mess.I sent my own son to a mental hospital.What the hell am I doing?