I know that all the laughter of my mother's life has been given to that man. She said that she liked the bright red clothes the most, which had a rich, sweet and unforgettable taste with her.
I know that my father fought hard all his life to protect a heart that was already empty and drifting away.
The story of that year was bloody and bloody, and those unfinished stories will eventually meet everyone in some way.
That young man met the cold and arrogant young man in white clothes, and in the future he and I slept together day and night, sometimes tearing each other apart, or lingering and comforting each other.
I never knew that there would be a man next to my pillow in the future. This man was the son of the man my mother longed for, my biological brother.
He smiled faintly, "Murder the person next to you, Ali, is this what you have been taught over the years?" "Is your education going to make you happy and chaotic?" I looked at him intently, "Brother."