All living beings in hell

Chapter 53 Brief Note [-]. Manzhushahua

The darkness quickly swallowed everything around me, only the gorgeous manjusawa was suspended in the endless.

Suddenly a familiar voice sounded from behind, calling my name: "Write, write..."

I turned around and saw it was a child.This kid's face is so familiar...it's...it's me as a child.

I squatted down, and the child threw himself into my arms: "You've been gone for a long time, I miss you so much."

"You are……?"

The child took a step back and looked at me seriously: "So I will become so handsome when I grow up! How wonderful!"

"Are you really me?"

The child threw himself into my arms again: "I like you very much now, it's great to write!"

There was an indescribable soreness in my heart, mixed with warmth, flowing wantonly in my chest.I held the baby in my arms and patted him on the back.

The child saw the manjusawa hanging in the air behind me, took my hand and walked over.

"Did this little red flower lead you to find me?"

"Probably yes, where are we now?"

"We are in your time," the child replied.

"In my time? What do you mean?"

"There are not only me and you here, but also you in every period, every minute and every second of you, all here."

As soon as the child finished speaking, several searchlight-like headlights came on, and I squinted my eyes.There are "I" standing in front of the dazzling lights.

——Me at different ages, at different times——There are babies who are crawling on the ground and can’t walk yet; there are children who are trying to learn how to skip rope; there was a time when I was very fat, and my fat belly was very tall , the eyes were almost fattened away; for a while, I returned to the same appearance as now... Some of them looked a little strange, and the expressions on their faces made me unable to recognize that it was me.

"Hello." I stretched out my left hand, and the strong light was too dazzling.

"Hello."

Some answered me by themselves, some looked at me with disdain, some wanted to ask more things, but held back their curiosity.

"How long have you been here?"

One of me wearing a hat looked up and said, "There is no concept of time here, everything that happened is recorded here. Your past, present, future that didn't happen, everything is here."

The other me, who was wearing a black shirt and looked the closest to my age, said, "Manzhushahua only records the events of his life. I am the last you, the last you. When your life on earth ends, the number of people here will also It's fixed, not increasing or decreasing. This period of your life belongs only to you."

The sourness in my heart was still flooding, I covered my chest: "Is there anything you want to tell me?"

I, who was half squatting on a high place in white clothes, jumped down from a high place: "Hey, I said, you guy who writes, don't be scared by so many of us! We know exactly how you feel! !"

"It's not that I was frightened, it's just that... my emotions were a little complicated for a while."

I looked at the white-clothed boy in front of me, and thought that I did have a period when I wanted to be a big brother when I was in the second grade, and I always shouted when I spoke.

"I didn't expect to die at such a young age. Is it worth it?"

A me in my high school uniform looked me up and down, his tone full of dissatisfaction, and even some sympathy.

"I originally liked to play skydiving, which is such a blind and exciting thing, so it's understandable to hang it early."

The other me, in my skydiving suit, tapped my high school uniform on the shoulder.

"The ones who are most sorry are probably my parents." I was sobbing in the corner with red eyes, "I have already anticipated all the risks, but I still have to do this, I have to do this, stubborn ass."

I looked at myself in front of me and listened to these words, my eyes turned red unconsciously.

"Everyone—" The child who was holding my hand before protected me behind him, "But I think—the writing is so handsome—"

I looked at this serious little guy, laughed, and touched his head: "Tell me, what do you want to do when you grow up?"

"I want to be a writer!" said the little one.

"Why do you want to be a writer?"

"Because I want to be like you!"

"You don't have to be like me, you can do many other things, the world is so big, you can do anything."

"But writing..." The little guy looked at me seriously, "I want to be a kind person, and you are a kind person. I want to be like you."

My tears finally couldn't hold back, dripped down my cheeks, and fell into the endless darkness.The little guy hugged me—just like I hugged him before, and patted my back lightly: "Write, don't cry, don't cry."

The little guy turned his head and yelled at the other "I": "How can you make the writer cry! It's not good to bully people!"

"No, they didn't bully me, I didn't cry sadly." I quickly explained.

The little guy didn't intend to let go, and continued to pat my back to comfort me.The black shirt walked up to the little guy, put his hand lightly on his shoulder, and signaled him that I was fine.The little guy touched my head again, and smoothed out the raised hair on the top of my head, and then reluctantly stepped aside.

The black shirt looked at all this with a serious expression, without any emotional changes.

"We are just a record of your existence, a record. We have no life, no emotions other than that moment, and we will not develop more emotions by ourselves. We are the present moment of time, the freeze frame of emotions. You Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Generally understand."

The "I" in the black shirt continued, "What I want to say is, writing, what you see is your actual past in the world, your state and emotion at every moment. But now you are no longer in the world. ’” The black shirt approached me, grabbing my shoulders with both hands, “Don’t be confused by us, don’t be limited by us. Be you. Write, be yourself.”

I glanced over the shoulder of the black shirt to look at myself behind him, they slowly backed up, backed up, each retreated into the bright light of the searchlight.A drama will finally come to an end, the light swallows all the figures, and finally only the little guy and the black shirt are still standing in place.

"You have to work hard to write!"

The little guy waved at me, and I nodded at him.The little one turned and ran into the light.

I in the black shirt gestured for me to sit down, and he sat beside me, wrapping his arms around my shoulders.We looked in the direction of the strong light together: "In the time after me, how are you doing?"

I sniffed: "It's fine, everything is fine."

"It's good that you live a good life. You know that no matter how much your past selves complain, everyone just hopes that you can live a good life."

"Yes, I know."

"The domain of Manzhushahua is the same as your firm," said the black shirt. "Every mortal has only one chance to come here after death. If you leave this time, you won't be able to come back."

"Are there any souls who are trapped here and cannot get out?"

"There are so many. You are a hell official and write a book. You know that there are so many ghosts who can't let go of their past events."

"Yes."

The black shirt cupped my cheeks and looked into my eyes firmly: "I hope I can say something more to you, but I'm afraid my words will only confuse you."

"You should trust me."

"I trust you a lot, so I also believe that you can leave this place and leave us, right?"

I hugged the black shirt tightly: "Yes."

The black shirt patted my back lightly, just like my habitual gesture of comforting others: "Then go."

I let go of my arms, and the black shirt looked at me and nodded: "Goodbye, writing."

"Goodbye," I said, "goodbye."

The dazzling white light suddenly went out, and everything returned to darkness.

My mood gradually calmed down.

The darkness faded and the surroundings brightened.The manjusawa plant had withered, and its petals were scattered all over the ground, as if it had just been burned.When twisted, it turns into ashes.

The carbonized flower was crushed at the fingertips, turned into fine ash and fell into the ebony pen holder.

I walked out of the office, and the sea breeze was blowing in the direction of the sea of ​​blood.

The ashes in the pen holder danced with the sound of the waves, and everything from the past was blown into the wind.

(End of this chapter)