Chapter 636 Flower of Blood and Bone·Blood Plague VII
When the fourth sword-holder in the Kingdom of Heaven said, "You are more in need of love than I thought," something flashed through his mind. Personal notes about William Ned.
——Ned’s Diary——
My name is William Ned, and I was born in a poor town in the Frontier State.
Both my father, George, and my mother, Mary, were addicted to alcohol, and the smell of alcohol permeated the house all year round.
As their only child, I was treated with indifference and violence from an early age.
……
I still remember that when I was very young, my home was always full of quarrels, beatings and scoldings. Father George's daily schedule was inseparable from the bottle of wine. He often got drunk and started to lose his temper when he returned home. Although her mother, Mary, works odd jobs in a restaurant, she cannot escape the temptation of alcohol.
Whenever they drink, the home becomes a battlefield.
Once, when I was only five years old, I was sitting on the living room floor playing with discarded building blocks from the neighbor's children.
Father George came back from outside, his face glowing red, his eyes blurred, and he had obviously drunk too much again.
He walked into the living room, glanced at the blocks scattered on the ground, and his expression immediately became gloomy.
"What are you doing?" he shouted, slamming the bottle on the table with a loud bang.
I was too scared to move and looked up at him timidly.
"I'm playing with blocks, Dad." I replied quietly, with a tremor in my voice.
He came over, grabbed my arm, and lifted me up from the ground.
"How many times have I told you not to throw things on the ground!"
He roared and threw me against the wall. My back hit the wall so hard that I almost fainted from the pain.
I fell to the ground, tears blurring my vision, but I didn’t dare to cry.
My mother, Mary, was in the kitchen at the time. She heard the noise and came over, but she didn’t comfort me. She just looked at me coldly, then turned back to the kitchen and continued busy with her business.
What I read in her eyes was not concern, but indifference and boredom.
…………
Such things happened frequently in my childhood.
My father, George, would always get angry at me over the smallest things and would teach me a lesson with his fists and belt.
He doesn't care how much it hurts, or how scared I am.
His mother, Mary, never resisted, but just endured it silently, and sometimes even helped him when he got angry.
Once, my father got angry after drinking because he couldn't find his wallet and thought I had stolen his drink money.
He turned the whole house upside down in frustration, and finally found the forgotten wallet in the crack of the sofa.
He didn't apologize to me, he just gave me a hard look and pushed me to the ground.
I was bruised and swollen from the fall, and my heart was filled with anger and... doubts.
[They don’t love me, why did they give birth to me {The handwriting is full of scrawls and twists, and the paper is full of wrinkles because of too much force}]
Later, I found the answer:
Them You don't deserve to be my parents!
......
These early memories linger like nightmares. The indifference and violence at home made me understand at a very young age that no one in this world would love or protect me unconditionally. The ties of blood seem to me nothing more than an endless source of constraint and pain.
During those dark days, I often prayed silently in my heart, hoping that one day I could escape from this home, this place full of violence and indifference.
I dream that one day I will be able to break the shackles of blood and live a life no longer shrouded in pain and fear.
……
As I grow older, I gradually realize that indifference and violence in my family have become the norm.
One evening, his father George came home drunk again. As soon as he walked in, he saw me doing my homework at the dining table, and his eyes immediately became angry.
"You little bastard, what are you doing?" He said as he came over and swept my homework book to the ground.
"I'm doing my homework, Dad." I replied quietly, trying not to anger him.
"Homework? What's the use of you? What do you think you can change?" He mocked, then grabbed the wine bottle on the table and took a swig.
At this time, mother Mary walked in, saw the homework book on the ground, and said coldly: "You made the house a mess, and there is not even a quiet place."
I felt helpless for a while, but I was used to my mother's indifference.
[She never stood by me when my father was angry. Instead, she often stood aside and even vented her emotions to me when my father was not around. {This is a repeated sentence that appears many times in the notes}. 】
Such violence and indifference make me feel completely desperate.
I began to avoid them and try to minimize my time at home.
After school, I would go directly to the library in the town and not go home until dark. That was my only refuge, and only in the world of books could I find any comfort.
My favorite book in the library is "The Origin of the Family...".
The future society described in it fascinates me!
Every time I was beaten black and blue by my father, or ridiculed by my mother, I would say to myself silently in my heart:
"William, you must escape, you must Beyond all of this.”
This became my only belief that sustained me through those dark days.
The indifference and violence at home made me full of hatred and despair for my blood relationship.
I long to break this shackles and create a future that is no longer bound by blood.
......
Due to my family's poverty, I always wore shabby clothes and often had bruises on my body, which made me an alien and a laughing stock in the eyes of my classmates.
I remember one morning, the weather was very cold, and I walked into the classroom wearing the old coat my mother gave me.
There were several holes in the coat, which made it look particularly shabby. As soon as the classmates saw me, they started whispering and laughing.
"Look, what is he wearing? He looks like a beggar!" A boy laughed loudly, and other students also followed suit.
I lowered my head, tried to ignore their ridicule, and silently walked to my seat.
"Hahaha, look how stupid he is!" the boy laughed, and other students also laughed.
I held back my tears, quickly got up, packed my books and stationery, and sat back in my seat.
The teacher walked into the classroom and saw this scene, but he simply said a few words: "Don't bully your classmates, study hard." Then he started teaching.
...
When I was 17 years old, I finally made up my mind to leave that home full of violence and indifference.
I escaped from the Border State to the Bluegrass State.
This decision became a turning point in my life and completely changed my destiny.
Because I met him...
Collinius P. Bodefe II.
He introduced me to the Inner Temple Awakening.
With his help, I successfully entered a university in the Bluegrass State.
......
"William Ned, where do you think human happiness lies?" Birdfield II asked me.
I answered without thinking: "Break the negative shackles brought by blood and create a world without abuse and neglect. Every child can grow up in an environment full of love and support, and have equal opportunities for development, no longer because of blood." "William Ned, how will we deal with genetic talent and injustice?" asked Fei II again.
“…”
I looked at Bade Fei II and was silent for a long time.
“You don’t know the answer, but because you know it, when you seize the opportunity, your ideas change.
So you, but one quarter of an ear.
Holding the rib of Osiris and the arrow of the bone worm, whatever you do after that, it will become a ring of the border. He may be the lord of blood, or he may be the full father of human beings, but he can forge borders, and you can do whatever you want. ”
“Desire is the measure of all things, don’t be bound by the reins of morality; do what you want, and treat the people you want. "
After Bodefei II finished speaking, I silently took the object he handed over, and then I couldn't help but ask:
"For you, what is the human quality you are pursuing? What exactly is happiness? "Happiness for a person means being enlightened, knowing his destiny, knowing what position he is suitable for and which one to pursue..."
Bodefei II said:
"On the border where blood and bones are blooming, I will build a paradise for mankind."
I have slightly understood the existence of the border, which will It will be a world where genes determine everything.
The awakened person is always happy.
…
After graduating from college, I successfully joined a top biomedical research team.
With my outstanding performance in gene editing and blood research, I have been highly praised by my leaders and colleagues.
However, only I know that the deep hatred and hatred of blood in my heart have been pushing me towards the path of enlightenment in my heart.
I want to break the shackles of blood!
Although it seemed to outsiders that I had successfully escaped that hellish home, the scars never healed.
I can't forget those years of abuse and indifference, and I can't forgive what my parents did to me.
......
One cold night, I returned to the home that made me suffer.
As soon as they opened the door, the familiar smell of alcohol hit their nostrils. Father George and mother Mary were still intoxicated in their own world as usual.
I stood there with a mixture of emotions in my heart, including hatred and an indescribable... emptiness.
"This is your life," I thought to myself, "it has never changed, and there has never been a trace of regret."
I walked to my father, and he looked at me with drunken eyes. He looked at me with a look of disdain on his face.
"What are you doing back?" he asked vaguely.
I didn’t answer, I just took out the bottle containing Swindon’s blood from my pocket and stared at him coldly.
He seemed to sense something was wrong and struggled to get up, but it was too late.
I quickly injected the liquid into his vein, and his eyes instantly opened wide, full of fear and consternation.
"You...what are you doing?" he asked tremblingly.
"You will know." I replied coldly.
Mother Mary also woke up at this moment and screamed in horror when she saw this scene.
I didn't give her any chance and injected Swindon's blood into her body as well.
She struggled harder, but soon her body began to stiffen and her eyes became dull.
For the next few hours, I watched their reactions closely.
The blood of Swinton spread rapidly in their bodies and controlled their central nervous systems.
Their expressions gradually became hollow, as if they had lost their souls.
I felt a thrill of revenge, and finally, they tasted the pain.
However, as time went by, the pleasure in my heart gradually faded, replaced by a deep emptiness and confusion.
I looked at my parents who were being controlled. Their bodies were like puppets and they had completely lost their will.
"Can you... give me a hug?"
They came to me sluggishly, stretched out their hands, and hugged me tightly.
I...seemed...crying?
Why?
Why are you crying?
My revenge did not bring the expected satisfaction, but instead plunged me into deeper loneliness and despair.
"Is this what I want?" I asked myself.
I suddenly understood that even if I took revenge on my parents, the pain of those years could not be erased.
I felt myself surrounded by endless darkness from which I could not escape.
I sat alone in the basement, looking at my parents’ bodies controlled by Swindon’s blood, and tears fell silently again.
After revenge, my heart became empty.
The pain and hatred still exist, just in a different form.
......
{This is what was written before the diary and is also the first page of the diary}
Today is Christmas Eve.
A rare smile of joy appeared on my mother’s face, as if the boss paid extra money to his employees today.
And I received the first gift since I was born, this notebook.
This is the first gift my mother gave me.
Moreover, another thing happened today. The home of the wealthy Mrs. Serena in the next block was robbed, and a hole was smashed out of the floor-to-ceiling window of their home.
When the police arrived at Mrs. Serena’s home, the thief had already run away.
So, today, police officers came to nearby neighborhoods to ask nearby residents if they had witnessed the thieves.
The police came to my house soon.
It was rare for my father not to drink today.
Under questioning by the police, he answered all the questions with a slightly stiff expression.
Of course, due to regular drinking, his facial expressions have long lost normal control.
He is not a very close person, and basically cannot recognize his own set of facial expressions.
In my eyes, my father’s expression was full of holes.
The police did not notice anything unusual about my father. They questioned everyone, including me, impartially.
They asked me if I had seen the thief.
I subconsciously looked back at my father.
His pupils showed a nervous look.
Yes, that thief is the father.
This is not what I guessed, this is what I saw.
Because, I, who was in charge of delivering milk part-time at the time, saw my father running out from the direction of Mrs. Serena’s house holding a bag full of glass shards.
He also requisitioned my bicycle for work.
My father knew that the police would come today, so he did not drink because he was afraid that when he was drunk, he would tell the truth that he would regret.
Faced with the police’s question, I responded calmly and unusually:
"No."
The father breathed a sigh of relief where the police couldn't see him.
Later, the police left.
Father and mother rarely quarreled, and we spent the quietest Christmas Eve together in history.
After the meal, my father also gave me a gift.
That's a pen - a Parker 51 pen.
This kind of pen and this kind of gift are very inconsistent with the financial level of a father who does not have a serious job.
I know where the pen comes from.
However, I happily took over the Parker 51 pen.
Perhaps it is a coincidence that the gifts they gave today matched very well.
Pen and notebook...
In order not to waste this combination, I plan to record all important things through these two things starting from today.
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