The summer when they were five years old was the last time the two of them saw each other.
The cruelty of reality did not bring any good memories to their childhood.
Impression, no matter where you go.
There is always only a loaded gun and a bloody dagger in hand.
When other children are innocent and coquettish with their mother.
But they were in the endless darkness, counting the stars and waiting for the time to pass day by day.
Finally, they thought they had made it through, but they didn't know that was the beginning of cruelty.
That moment when they pointed guns at each other's chests. It's like everything is being replayed in reverse.
Scattered memories are reorganized into a hidden truth.
Who made the mistake in the previous life, and how should we bear it? . .
Brother, third person text.