After being knocked unconscious on the way to school, my boyfriend and I were locked up in this private prison. People inject us with drugs every day, I can't tell what, but I'm sure someone will die from it.
My boyfriend lives next door to me, and we keep in touch by knocking on the wall every day.
There are only old black and white TV sets, a few books to read, and countless papers and pens.
Desperate, I had suicidal thoughts, cut my wrists with a razor blade, and stabbed it into my eyes. Even if blood flows all over the floor, I can't die.
It wasn't until the sixth year of my imprisonment that I stabbed a staff member to death and escaped.
The first thing I did when I went out was to rescue my boyfriend. I cut off his doorknob and pushed the door open.
There was no one in the dirty room, just a black mass of flesh.
By the time I reacted, the pieces of meat had been dismembered in my hands.
Covered in blood, I sat on the bed and thought:
If there is a monster living next door, who would it be that my boyfriend knocks on the wall and talks to me every day?
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The mad heroine and the male protagonist's background board
Intention: Continuous self-improvement