I installed a prosthetic eye for Qin Mo. The dark pupils and the cold touch fit perfectly into his empty eye socket.
Qin Mo didn't know that it was watching him for me.
I watch it every day.
Look at the way he walks, look at his fingers turning the pages of a book, and look at him slowly peeling a candy under the dim light.
I can see every blink, every breath, every tear.
Until that day, blood splattered on his face.
The person lying on the ground looked exactly like him, it was him.
He raised his head and pointed his prosthetic eye at the camera, as if returning my gaze.
"Have you seen enough?"
I laughed.
Of course not.
Momo, having you is the reason why I breathe.
*The text is not in the first person
Concept: Staring is slow murder, and you do it voluntarily