Mental Illness Is Not Genetic

Copywriting I once had a mother who told me that my father was an emotionless, cold psychopath. He abandoned me and my mother, piling all the mess on her. On Christmas night, she combed my red hair with her cold hands, and as the fireworks that lit up the whole city exploded into the sky on Christmas day, they turned into falling white snow and fell on my shoulders. Gotham, the city where I was born and grew up. The city of sin that killed my mother. "Go to your father... The light between the two lines of darkness is the Lord's guidance for you, Juao," The older woman's hands were attached to Juao's face, and he rubbed the ring on his mother's index finger with the tip of his nose, as if the woman who had never left him was still standing by his side. "You are a child of sin, and I should have strangled you to death in the arms of a nun from birth." But you didn't do that, my mother. ………… I once had a mother who told me to find my father and kill him, "... I am flesh and blood. I am the seed left by the foreign invaders. I absorb nutrients and grow into fruit trees in the orchard. Who am I?" I am "child", I am "sin" I am a bright red fruit tree standing in the center of the city, with its sweet pulp hanging on my fingertips eager to try. ——Good morning, father. ——Please die. ……………… Intention: Listen to mother~