After Being Watched by My Paranoid and Gloomy Deceased Wife - Chapter 2

After my brain relaxed, my thoughts started to become sluggish, like rusted gears turning slowly and with a grind.

Water. Is it a leak from the upstairs apartment? Or is the indoor unit of the air conditioner broken and dripping?

No one is living in the apartment upstairs yet, and the air conditioner’s indoor unit is on the other side of the room, far from the head of the bed—

The dripping water seemed to carry a chill that seeped into the marrow of my bones and drilled into my mind, instantly waking me up.

As my thoughts raced at the speed of light, I hesitated for a brief, yet seemingly long, moment about whether to open my eyes.

If I open my eyes, and there’s something there, I won’t be able to sleep tonight. If I don’t open my eyes, I won’t be able to sleep tonight either.

So I simply opened my eyes.

Nothing but pitch black. Is the power out?

Or did I sleepwalk and turn off the bedside lamp?

I felt the faint breeze from the air conditioner blowing across my raised goosebumps, and I decided that in the future, before turning off the lights, I wouldn’t close the blackout curtains. A sheer curtain would be enough. Why did I insist on total blackout?

Fumbling in the dark made me a little anxious. In the unfamiliar room layout, I groped around for a long time but couldn’t find the switch. Instead, I touched something cold, clammy, and soft…

The texture was a bit too human-like.

I retracted my hand as if shocked by electricity, my scream dying in my throat. I suddenly remembered my phone was right by my pillow. Taking a deep breath, I turned on the phone screen.

Nothing.

Oh no, is my savings enough to get my mental health checked out?

The last time I felt that real, slippery, icy, and very human-skin-like touch was—

My mind stalled for a moment, but I quickly skipped past that question.

In short, my problem is serious. The hallucinations have reached this level. If it gets worse, will I start seeing people as someone else, then think they’re ghosts, and feel the urge to stab them?

Can I afford the consequences? Will I have to spend the rest of my life hospitalized in a psychiatric facility?

A minute passed, and the phone screen naturally went dark, interrupting my chaotic thoughts.

I quickly pressed the screen again, turned on the flashlight, and finally found the bedside lamp switch.

It was clearly a spot I could reach with just a stretch of my hand, but the darkness added so much difficulty and terrifying imagination.

Bright, soft light poured out, and I sighed in relief, burying myself in the quilt, leaving only half my face exposed, and nervously scanning my surroundings.

Guan Lan’s room is decorated in a minimalist style, but occasionally there are a few bright-colored accents, such as this ridiculously shaped and colored table lamp.

Usually, Guan Lan tidies up when she stays here, or I call a cleaning service to clean the whole house when she’s away.

I hadn’t felt comfortable inspecting the room when I came in, but after this quick look, I realized that the base of the lamp switch is shaped like a hand…

The image of the slender, beautiful hand in the crimson liquid flashed back into my mind. I shivered, forcing myself not to think about it anymore, and silently recited the socialist core values, trying to forget all this nonsense.

But my thoughts were uncontrollable. I remembered a story I had read before.

A woman had a mental illness and always believed she had a cat inside her stomach.

Her husband sought help from a doctor, so the doctor pretended to perform surgery and took out a cat.

The woman was relieved, but the next moment she screamed hysterically, saying it wasn’t that cat.

I was afraid I was going crazy, but I couldn’t figure out the reason, so I could only blame the car accident.

So, am I going mad while being fully conscious?

Can I be sure that my daily memories are not being distorted or tampered with by my brain?

Could I be a strange and eccentric person in the eyes of others?

The fact that I might be going mad was even harder to accept than encountering a ghost.

Finally, I let go of the questions, hugged the quilt tight, closed my eyes, and gradually fell asleep listening to my own breathing and heartbeat.

In a trance, I seemed to see a bl00d-red hand climbing onto the edge of the bed to gently tuck me in. The bl00d-red face, with its empty eye sockets and eerie beauty, smiled peacefully and tenderly.

As my mind drifted away, I vaguely felt that this scene had appeared in my memory thousands of times.

Sleep enveloped me, and soon I entered a dream in a state of grogginess.

When I woke up, I couldn’t quite remember what I had dreamed. My face was covered in tears, and the pillow was soaked.

I’ve forgotten the content, but it wasn’t a good dream in any case. It’s probably better not to remember.

The panic and sense of loss, like my heart being tossed into the air and then rapidly dropped, made it impossible for me to immediately step out of the dream’s shadow.

What was strange was that I had many more bruises on my body. They were faint, like someone hadn’t controlled their strength.

I remember my sleeping posture isn’t very honest, so it’s normal to wake up occasionally with a bruise somewhere. The only thing that could be called strange was the bruise on my collarbone—

Did I pinch myself in my sleep out of boredom?

Tossing and turning all night, with my nerves highly strung, I felt like a rusted iron puppet when I woke up.

I was uncomfortable everywhere and desperately needed oil for lubrication.

Otherwise, even a slight movement brought a sour, sluggish feeling that seemed to emerge from every bone joint. It was painful whether I moved or not, and my head was cloudy and my stomach felt nauseous.

I felt my condition had worsened and even affected my body, but I still forced myself to climb out of bed despite the discomfort.

Sunlight streamed into the room through the fully opened blackout curtains. It was warm, and I suddenly decided to give myself a vacation.

Just to soak up the sun, be a salted fish at home, evenly dried and automatically flipped. So, I impulsively called in sick, sacrificing this month’s perfect attendance bonus.

But that impulse retreated the moment I opened the room door and faced the living room, which was well-shaded and utterly devoid of light. Am I sure? Am I sure I want to stay home all day today?

It might be because I’m a homebody, or it might be that I’m too busy at work to have time for hallucinations and auditory hallucinations, and I don’t have the mental capacity to care about anything else besides my job.

In short, most of the auditory and visual hallucinations only occur after I get off work.

Sometimes, I suddenly realize that I quite love going to work.

My foot, which was stepping out of the room, froze. Finally, cautiously, I used my phone to remotely turn on all the house lights before daring to go to the living room and open the curtains.

The feeling of sunlight flooding the entire house is truly wonderful. My large floor-to-ceiling windows weren’t installed in vain. It’s a bit hot, but no big deal.

At this moment, both my house and I needed a little warmth.

Because I’ve been sensitive about shadows recently, as the chill was finally dispelled by the sun, I subconsciously looked at my shadow.

This angle, this head, this leg. Good. Very normal.

Not having slept well all night, and now being exposed to the sun, I slowly hugged a pillow and fell asleep in the warm sunlight.

I was woken up by the sky full of sunset glow and a cool breeze.

This scene probably overlapped with a memory of mine. In my haze, I felt like there should have been someone else beside me, quietly watching the sunset together.

After all, this extra-large floor-to-ceiling window was decided upon together with that person.

Even after I was completely awake, the faint sense of melancholy lingered.

However, my house was decorated long ago. Although I don’t remember the details, as my only place of refuge, I must have dragged friends around to discuss every detail, so I probably had shared this fantasy with someone.

Hunger drove me to get up and find food. The bag of braised pork rib noodles I chose last night was still sitting on the kitchen counter!

I boiled a kettle of hot water, cleaned up the fragments from last night, put them into a sturdy garbage bag, and taped a note on it saying they were broken porcelain pieces.

I found a surviving instant noodle bowl, casually dropped the noodle cake in. I didn’t feel like adding sausages or eggs. I felt like my internal organs were protesting, and I was so hungry my belly was practically glued to my back.

My stomach let out a “grumble,” but I still insisted on waiting the precise amount of time, making sure to soak the noodles for five full minutes before eating.

I don’t remember who told me, but they said eating instant noodles that haven’t been fully soaked will cause them to expand in the stomach, which is bad for it. I don’t know what kind of fallacy that is, but I took it to heart.

The stopwatch beeped, and I immediately lifted the lid and fished out a forkful of noodles, “whooshing” to cool them down.

The air conditioning was quite strong today, and the noodles cooled down to an edible temperature quickly. Slurping down the entire bowl, I suddenly felt something wasn’t right.

I had the doors and windows open, didn’t I? It shouldn’t be this cool at night in this weather, should it?

The weather forecast showed 36 degrees Celsius, but the indoor thermometer showed 20.

Well, what can I say? Saving a bit on the air conditioning bill is nice.

I looked down at the shadow. Long, flowing hair, a fluttering skirt. I touched my own hair, which was too short to tie up, and for a moment, I couldn’t find the words to describe my feeling.

Maybe I should grow my hair out too?

At least then they’d both be long hair, and I could lie to myself a little.

Some problems are destined to be long-term, thorny issues.

I decided not to think about it. But one bowl of instant noodles couldn’t fill my stomach and intestines, which had been empty for a day and a night.

My stomach, which was still rumbling, protested. My mind automatically played a GIF of sizzling steak, grilled fish, and hotpot…

The new residential area is quiet and tranquil, and the environment is genuinely lovely, but delivery food is genuinely scarce.

The delivery person who takes my order would likely have to delay many other orders. To avoid troubling others, I have stocked a cupboard full of instant noodles and ready-to-eat meals.

But while the braised beef noodles smell great, the taste is just so-so.

The grilled meat over charcoal playing in my mind was already dripping oil with a “sizzle,” and it even had a close-up shot. Outside, the sky was already dark.

Staying inside after nightfall always breeds fear, so I quickly moved the location to the commercial district in the city center.

More people, more life, more human warmth.

Holding a skewer of grilled potato, feeling the heat wafting from the grilled chicken leg stall, my perceived body temperature rose, and I felt the warmth in my hands and feet after a long time.

However, when I looked down, the long hair of the shadow swayed elegantly and leisurely with my movements. If it weren’t a shadow, it would look like my friend accompanying me shopping.

I’m actually quite curious what the shadow’s real face looks like.

I mean, when she was alive, of course.

Thinking of the humanoid figure condensed from the bl00d-red liquid that seemed to only appear in horror movies last night, I couldn’t help but shiver and quickly dismissed the image from my memory.

The scent of roasting meat wafting from somewhere captured my attention, and I walked towards the stall following the aroma, so I didn’t notice the shadow hesitating for a moment before following me.

For a moment, the person and the shadow were separated, an indescribably bizarre and chilling sight. Thankfully, the night market was crowded, and no one noticed the situation.