In the apocalypse, Jiao Jiao struggled every day - chapter 147

Only that face became more delicate and indifferent.

First day of school.

The young boy left Su Ruan with food and said that he would definitely return early.

Su Ruan nodded, curled up in the little boy’s bed, and was about to sleep again.

The little boy looked at the little girl’s blushing red face and raised his hand to push the window.

A small wind came in and gently blew the girl’s hair.

The little boy looked at it with satisfaction for a while, and then finally left with his school bag on his back.

Their class was very early.

The little boy was called by a female teacher before he left.

The female teacher looked at him in silence, as if thinking about something.

The little boy hurried home and left without waiting for the female teacher to speak.

The female teacher looked at the little boy’s slender back, and there was obvious pity and sadness in her eyes.

When the little boy came home, he saw the car parked in the yard.

When Lu Jianren came back the previous time, he went to hospital.

This was the first time he had been back for so long.

The little boy ran upstairs, and pushed open the door.

There was no familiar floral fragrance, but that kind of terrifying strong alcohol which rushed into his nose.

The man stood in the room.

It was all messy, and even his quilt was trampled under the feet of the man.

“Honey, honey, are you back? You are back!”

Lu Jianren happily rushed towards the young boy while holding the wine bottle.

The little boy stood there with a pale face. He dragged the straps of the school bag on his body for the first time. Instead of escaping or dodging, for the first time, the boy stared at the bloody white flowers behind the man.

“Honey, honey…”

The man was mentally ill.

He went crazy when he got drunk.

He rushed over and dragged the little boy into the house.

The little boy’s eyes were like a lifeless doll.

He opened his mouth and said, “What about her?”

“Her?”

The man stepped in and was suddenly excited, “Dead, dead, all dead!”

The little boy’s originally bleak look shook violently.

He looked at the man in front of him.

The man danced with excitement. His face was grim, “Dead, all dead, all dead, honey. All dead. We can be together, they are all dead, we can be together…”

The man was anxious to hug the young boy.

The little boy struggled hard, and his thin body was thrown on the closet by the man.

The thick wardrobe made a muffled noise.

The little boy was knocked as if falling apart.

He opened his eyes, turned his head slightly and dragged an axe out of the closet. With a blank expression, he slammed it at the man in front of him.

Although the man was drunk, he turned his head subconsciously to avoid the danger.

The wine bottle in the man’s hand fell to the ground and burst.

The young man stepped on the debris on the ground, screamed, and waved the axe in his hand, like a beast whose head was irritated.

The man was stunned, and sobered.

He first tried to grab the axe.

But after being cut several times, he abandoned the idea.

The room was small, narrow and the windows were smaller.

When the man was forced to the window, the little boy’s eyes dimmed.

He took the axe and attacked.

The man turned around in panic and leaned out of the window.

As the window was too small, he got stuck. His feet in leather shoes hung by the window and half of him fell out.

The little boy stood there staring blankly as he chopped his legs without expression.

Blood spattered.

The man’s shouts echoed. He had fallen out of the window.

With a bang, it seemed like the end of something, or maybe like the beginning of something.

The little boy’s thin arm fell, and the blood on the little axe ticked down.

After a long time, the axe in his hand hit the ground.

The little boy blinked, his eyes blurred in blood.

He raised his hand, wiped the blood from his face, and then stood there, watching the white flowers in the room dissipate like snow in the light of the setting sun.

He opened his mouth in panic and rushed to grab it.

But nothing was caught.

The little white flowers piled up on the hill disappeared almost as if they never appeared.

The little boy knelt down on the ground. Downstairs came the scream of helplessness from the old man.

But the little boy couldn’t even make a sound.

He opened his mouth wide, and there was a thick blood in his throat.

He reached over and covered his mouth, crawled on the ground, curled up, and moved into the closet inch by inch.

With a click, the wardrobe was closed.

Thick darkness swept through, like the darkest night, wrapping him tightly inside. 

But without the soft voice, without the tender embrace, without the delicate floral fragrance, the whole wardrobe was so cold and empty, like hell.

It was no longer his place of safety.

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1 KO-FI= 1 EXTRA CHAPTER