My House of Horrors

Zhang Ya...

By silently reciting her name, Chen Song was somewhat disturbed that he had not received any response.

He looked behind him, dark at night, and there was no light around him, so he couldn't see his shadow at all.

“What are you doing?” The man found Chen Song behaving strangely and whispered, “You don't look well. ”

“This is the first time I've heard of the suicide intervention operator profession, what do you need to do every day?” Chen Song was also a man who had seen the big wind wave, and he immediately adjusted his condition and turned the subject off.

“Nearly a million people commit suicide globally every year, far more than homicide, but the topic is often shameful and silent, rarely in the public eye, and what we should do more is to confront it and help and heal a person in a timely manner when he or she has a suicidal tendency. Instead of blaming him with that incomprehensible gaze and isolating him. ”

“No one is dumb enough to look at light life, and when a person is really forced to that point, the pain he suffers is only understood by himself. ”

The man seemed to have something in mind, and he looked at the infinite night sky: “I'm a suicide intervention operator, and the job I do every day is to reach out to those next to the abyss and tell them that there are people in the world who are willing to help him, and I can't drag them out of the abyss, but I can tell them that there are beautiful things in the world. ”

“That number is the suicide intervention hotline?” Chen Song nodded: “No wonder the others spoke so strangely to me. ”

“They're not strange, and I'm afraid if you encounter what they've been through, they'll do the same.” The man looked back at Chen Song: “In fact, very few people with a belief in death call our helpline. People who choose to call the suicide intervention hotline at the end of their lives, deep down, actually retain a little love for the world. They don't fit in, they behave strangely, and they're actually asking for help from the people around them. ”

“Call for help? ”

“Yes, suicide is not a short-lived temporary act, and causes are buried early on, and those bad emotions and things accumulate in the mind, and then suddenly one day, because a point is triggered, a person is inundated with negative emotions at that moment. A lot of suicides are heralded long ago, but very few people around them realize that tragedies can be avoided if they discover them earlier and make changes. ”

The bloodstain on the man's coat slowly faded, as did the bloody tattoo on his left face.

This is also the first time Chen Gong has encountered this situation, all the red coats he has seen before, no matter when, the blood red coat will not change, the red coat in front of him seems a little different from the other red coats.

The man doesn't care about Chen Song's gaze, he should just want to talk to someone: “I've heard a lot of reasons for suicide, the factory went bankrupt, and he owed a huge loan of usury for Dongshan to start over. There was no way to go. At the last moment of his life, he still didn't dare go home. When I answered that phone, I heard that the 40-50 year-old man was crying. His only wish was to see his children. There are too many things like this, and every time it's late at night, people get more vulnerable, from 12: 00 a.m. to 3: 00 a.m., during our busiest hour, and that's when my first rescue failure was. ”

The railroad tracks are in the middle, and the man and Chan Song are very tacitly kept at a distance.

“Do you remember your first call? ”

“Impressive. ”

“The writer called me in his lifetime, and I heard the madness in his tone, but I underestimated his resolve. I thought he was just looking for someone to talk to, because his voice was really calm, and I couldn't feel him in the conversation, and he was just a little bit depressed.” When a man says this, the blood tattoo on his half face changes slightly, a bloody thread interweaves and slowly outlines the face of another person.

“I remember very clearly that it was my first intervention that failed, and even now I was able to carry all the conversations between him and me.” The man's voice was somewhat painful: “I saw him in the newspaper the next day and regretted that he gave me his last hope, but I ignored it, and I was responsible for that tragedy. ”

“Since then, I've been more careful when I talk to people, but things haven't improved. ”

“One day a month later, I failed to intervene again, and it was that man's thirtieth birthday. He chose the day, dressed in work clothes, to say goodbye in the most memorable place ever.” A man should be talking about a patient suffering from Big Male and Fat Tiger Syndrome, and Chen Song can hear a little pain from each other's tone.

“Living lives disappear before my eyes, and I distinguish between opportunities.” The blood tattoo on the side of a man's face changed again. Chen Song found that every time he spoke of a man, the blood tattoo on his face changed once. From his experience with powerful ghosts, the obsession of those who committed suicide seemed to have entered the man's body. In other words, it could be that a man, on his own, took up the obsession of all the suicides on the phone.

“The third intervention failed just the next day, and I was going to see for myself the last suicide.” The man's tone changed for the first time: “He was really a kind man, and I asked him if he had any aspirations at the last moment of his life. He responded to me that he was worried that his death at the host's house would prevent the host from renting the house, so he went somewhere else and he had put the utilities and the rent he owed in his suitcase, but he didn't have a friend, so I was hoping I could notify the host and give him the utilities. ”

“I talked to him a lot that day until he fell asleep, and I should have called the police, but I didn't even know where he was. ”

“I haven't gotten out of the last suicide thing, and I've met another suicide. ”

“Unlike other suicides, who suffer from cancer and suffer from illness, this is the one who called me during the day and he was thoughtful.” When a man said this, he looked at Chan Song again: “My job was to pull a man out of the mud of death, but on that day, I didn't do it. Perhaps because of the stress, or because of the continuous stimulus, I did not persuade him to embrace life, but rather to respect his choices. ”

Every time a man mentions a suicide, the blood tattoo on his side changes.

“I didn't do what I had to do, but did I do it wrong? ”

The man's face was even more obscure: “All the records of our calls will be kept, and my call will be no exception, but I didn't know what had happened. Shortly after his accident, the last call between me and him was made public. ”