After Being Watched by My Paranoid and Gloomy Deceased Wife - Chapter 22

What does “She’s back” mean?

Did I have the same trouble before?

Does my current situation count as auditory hallucination, or is it a personality split?

My brain was a chaotic mess, and I didn’t know why I suddenly broke down.

The feeling of sadness was almost tangible, yet I didn’t know where it came from or why it started.

I vaguely remember the hallucination I saw earlier, which looked very much like the scene of the car accident I have no recollection of, years ago.

However, memory was like water I couldn’t grasp, flowing out from my tightly clenched hand, then being evaporated by my body heat, leaving only a faint dampness on my palm.

“Lulu.” It called me softly and tenderly.

I was crying so hard I felt nauseous and started dry heaving, but the sink was occupied by It. I could only cover my mouth and retch while in Its embrace.

The icy liquid churned in my stomach, seemingly trying to grip my heart and lungs, forcing me to bend over in unbearable pain.

Tears fell, I couldn’t tell if it was my body protesting or my mind collapsing.

The pain surged from my limbs to my stomach, acid rose up, and my knees gave way. It held me with Its arms, preventing me from falling to the floor.

A hallucination…

I sighed in my heart. The physiological pain made me continuously retch until a pool of bl00d was vomited from my throat.

Bright, with a sweet, metallic smell, it looked like a crimson flower on the white tile floor.

Bl00d, am I spitting bl00d?

As my stomach emptied, I felt the rock pressing on my chest loosen, and the heavy, melancholic sadness receded significantly.

But that pool of bl00d made me dizzy, blurring the line between reality and illusion.

I can’t be terminally ill and critically ill, can I?

My hand was somehow withdrawn from Its body. It held me carefully, as if I were fragile, touch-and-shatter glass.

So gentle, so cherished.

How terrible, for a moment, I actually felt that It existed in reality, not just as a figure I imagined.

Everything in front of me is fake, isn’t it?

Through my teary eyes, I saw Its lips open and close, but I couldn’t hear the voice anymore.

Why? Has my condition improved and lessened?

My heart rate was always frantic and hurried, making it hard for me to distinguish my own thoughts.

It reached out to touch my face, and two trails of bloody tears streamed down Its exquisite, ink-red cheek.

I watched It open Its hollow eyes. Clearly, there were no pupils, which was terrifying and horrifying, yet one felt that It was gazing at me with gentle concentration at this moment.

It was sad, why?

Numerous images flashed through my mind. The rapidly switching pictures were like slides that couldn’t be paused, swiftly capturing the emotions contained within at an astonishing speed of hundreds per second.

In just a few moments, I caught a clear glimpse of the scenes. They were all It.

Reaching out to me, looking down at me, smiling at me, silently shedding tears…

Unidentified emotion compelled me to act against common sense—

I reached out and caught Its tear.

In the corner of the mirror, a streak of bl00d from my cough was on my lips, my eyes were red and swollen, and time had etched fine lines at the corners of my eyes, making me look disheveled and embarrassed.

And It possessed a beauty untouched by time.

Such a transcendental existence is indeed a hallucination.

Do people fear their own hallucinations? They must.

Otherwise, why was the hand that caught the bloody tear trembling, and why was my body shaking too?

This shiver was uncontrollable, as if my very soul was terrified by it.

What should I say? Should I say “go away,” “I don’t want to see you,” “I still want to be a normal person,” or—

“Don’t cry.”

I said something that even surprised myself.

Perhaps I was comforting the eerie entity in my hallucination to compensate for my blank emotional history?

It was beautiful, eerie, and kept saying “I love you.”

If you ignore Its non-human appearance, It almost fulfilled all my expectations for a partner.

How desperate for a partner have I become?

No partner in reality, so I imagine such an existence for myself in a hallucination. That’s quite outrageous of me.

Because of that comforting sentence, It hugged me tightly.

The embrace was too tight and suffocating. I couldn’t breathe properly, and even though my face turned red, I couldn’t break free from Its arms.

Seemingly noticing this, It frantically loosened Its grip and bent down to carefully examine my body, Its icy hand stroking the red marks left by the tight embrace.

I couldn’t see Its face, only heard the “whoosh” of water as It moved, and the redundant bloody arm submerged back into the water.

I couldn’t hear it anymore, that mature, gentle voice, the ultimate beautiful fantasy.

A sense of loss attacked me, hiding in the shadow of panic.

Its tears were still falling. I saw Its figure in the mirror begin to blur, and cold bloody droplets fell on my shoulder, burning like fire.

I had many questions I wanted to ask, but I already knew I wouldn’t get an answer.

Strange, I actually felt regretful about not having auditory hallucinations.

The sudden increase in distance allowed me to see Its face again. The bloody lips opened and closed, and I already recognized Its mouth shape.

“Lulu.”

Always like this, calling my name repeatedly, as if we should have some kind of intimate connection.

But I also saw Its upper lip touch the lower, silently telling me.

“Don’t be afraid.”

Am I afraid?

It held my trembling hand, the water-formed fingers squeezing into the gaps between mine, and then intertwining with mine. The feeling of the water flowing and squeezing in was both smooth and strange.

A new arm emerged from the bloody water stream. It gently patted my back. It was only when I lowered my head that I realized I was still shaking.

What am I afraid of?

Perhaps I’m afraid, afraid of this extraordinary, eerie scene, afraid of an uncontrollable future.

Or perhaps, I’m just afraid—

“Will you…” Will you always stay with me?

I actually wanted to ask It something like that. I must be insane.

I quickly retracted the question before it was fully uttered.

Since my hand was held, even if I wanted to smooth my goosebumps, I couldn’t magically grow another arm anytime, anywhere, like It could.

It would be better if the hallucination disappeared!

Is the psychiatric registration fee cheap? Do I really have such little possessiveness over money?

Reason pulled back my precarious, sick thoughts, which were being corrupted by beauty.

The bloody beauty lowered Its head and fully enveloped me in Its embrace. I saw It gradually blur and vanish in the mirror, and the shadow slowly returned behind me.

I somehow recalled the phrase “solitary and desolate, with only one’s shadow for company” from a textbook.

The sink, where the water had boiled with bl00d, was empty. The bl00d I had coughed up on the floor was gone. I stared blankly at the hand that had just been clasped with Its.

Spreading my palm, the center of my hand was pale, the palm lines like randomly scribbled, messy lines. Other than that, there was nothing.

Do middle-aged and young people without a partner or descendants have to face the challenge of loneliness?

Or did I enter menopause early?

That would be a bit too early. By rights, it should be a problem I only need to consider ten years from now.

However, hormone imbalance leading to mental issues also seems to be something that needs attention.

My usually poor memory suddenly improved at this moment.

I remembered my previous physical examination report. All indicators were within the passing range, and the few that weren’t great didn’t seem to relate to my mental state.

Let’s just assume they are related.

I paused before turning on the faucet, carefully observed the water flow, and only dared to wash my hands after confirming there were no issues, then quickly turned it off when done.

In any case, the hallucination scenes were too much for my acceptance level. Any development beyond my comprehension makes me afraid.

The fantasy was too realistic, leaving me somewhat dazed even after returning to reality.

Not only did time become blurred in the delusion, but my brain was also confused. Sometimes, when I looked at the shadow, I strangely felt that it vaguely had facial features.

How absurd.

Cautiously turning on the showerhead, the warm stream of water fell. I sighed in relief and washed my sweat-drenched hair. Short hair is really convenient; the foam cleans it with just a few rubs.

As I was lathering my body with shower gel, just as the foam reached my chest, I saw the shadow on the wall change from being back-to-me to facing-me.

Not knowing what to say, I silently turned my back, pretending not to see anything.

The heat was steaming, and the slightly hot water brought a comfortable temperature to my skin. Just as I closed my eyes to enjoy the tranquility of the moment, I felt a slight chill on my waist, as if a finger had brushed past.

Frowning, I looked at the shadow.

It casually retracted Its shadowy hand, Its fingers lifting a strand of hair and curling it a few times.

I silently increased the speed of my shower. Water droplets from my hair tips hit my body, feeling a bit cold.

Looking again, the shadow seemed to move a little closer, reaching out, not sure what It was planning to do.

Raising an eyebrow, I pressed the shower switch, ready to see what new tricks the hallucination had in store.

It seemed to freeze, naturally shrinking back Its hand and turning to the other side, as if admiring the scenery.

The showerhead above suddenly turned on, drenching my entire body and face.

After multiple hallucinations, I developed a slight phobia of water. Earlier, I was nearly pressed into Its body made of bloody water. The strange sensation of feeling like I was about to merge with the cold, viscous water was chilling in retrospect.

The foam on my body had already been rinsed off. I continued showering because I wanted my hypothermic body to warm up a bit.

Otherwise, I might genuinely catch a fever or get sick, giving Xi Rong a chance to take me to the doctor.

The year I spent in the hospital made me resistant to such a commonplace place of life and death.

The memory isn’t vivid, but I still remember many patients in wheelchairs like me back then, many of whom I never even spoke to.

When I asked about them later, Xi Rong’s silence was the answer.

What kind of person can truly accept life and death with indifference?

Wrapping myself in a towel and drying my hair, I looked out at the pitch-black night and thought of the times when patients failed to be saved: the somber, quiet doctors and nurses with reddened eyes, the wailing family members, and the deceased covered with a white cloth.

I instinctively resisted such an atmosphere, but the hospital is just such a place.

Here, every first encounter could be the last. Strangers who accidentally met, made eye contact, and smiled and nodded at each other might become a number in the morgue the next day.

The unstoppable treatment forced me to face the most concentrated joys and sorrows of the human world. At that time, I felt Xi Rong was incredibly strong, not only working but also taking time off to care for me. She was practically my second mother.

My hair felt warm after being blown dry. I rummaged through the medical kit for glucose and cold medicine to mix, and found a cup of hot water by the bedside.

When did I pour this? I don’t remember at all.

Without overthinking, I poured the powder into the hot water, stirred it with a straw, and took a sip. It was only slightly hot, just the right temperature to drink.

My head felt a bit fuzzy. I had a strong feeling I was about to get sick.

Before the fever started, I tucked myself into the quilt, trying to save my fragile, disobedient old body.

The dark shadow under the bed moved. The bedroom light flickered and then went dark.

The ink-black shadow slowly detached from the floor, tucked the corners of the quilt for the person on the bed, and sat quietly on one side. Then, It tentatively reached out to touch the sleeping person’s forehead.

The seemingly physical, ink-black fingertips gradually blurred, and then slowly disappeared.

Something entered my dream.

A woman with a hazy but beautiful face embraced me, softly whispering in my ear.

“Lulu.”

“Long time no see.”

An icy breath was exhaled onto my earlobe, raising goosebumps. I tried to turn my head, but she held me tightly, her tone gentle and lingering, with a startling possessiveness.

“I’ve missed you so much, how about you?”

My chest felt cold; the buttons on my clothes were being undone.