This story is about a post-00s Northeast boy who has been subjected to domestic violence all year round, he was burned by his biological parents with tongs for 3 years, and he is still insisting on learning how to write the word "mother".
Kelin Hongtong feels that in this story, in addition to the boy, what is more tragic is the abusive parents and the onlookers who do not act.
Before recording the story, Lin Hongtong said: "I want to solve specific problems first, and then talk about ideals."
By the time she told me the story, there had been no more similar abuses in the area thanks to her and the efforts of the police. And the ideal part, perhaps, can only be realized if more people see the story.
The place where I work is a city that is not so northeast, and even so, there is still a lot of snow every winter, and one foot is stuck in half a leg, and I can't move, like a predicament set by God for the people here.
I can live, but I don't let you live so easily.
The species that survive here have a strong desire to survive.
I've seen fish that are only half of their bodies still eating, kittens with broken limbs and still desperate for human healing. There are also stupid roe deer of this specialty, these little beasts trapped by the trap of the beast, in order to survive, they will tear off their legs, but because they want to live too much, they are easily attracted by the lights of the villagers when they escape.
- That is, of course, a false hope, and the little beasts often end up being beaten with sticks until they die.
Of course, these species also include certain "people".
In 2021, I saw a man who survived as a small beast, and his body appeared in the jurisdiction farthest away from our forensic center.
On the day I received the call to the police, I drove from the city, passed through the second and third ring roads, and drove down the highway for an hour, followed by a longer dirt road, and donkey carts and sheep flashed by the window.
I didn't have time to care, facing the plain in front of me, south and south.
When I got to the place and pushed the car door open, his body was different from anything I had seen before.
Unlike other deceased people, I have to study how he died, and from the first time I saw his body, I wondered, how did he survive all these years?
At that time, it was an emergency doctor from the hospital who called the police.
I was just about to ask him to dial the command center, but I was attracted by his words: "I took a strange ......"
I listened to the other party halfway through and hung up the phone to leave. The new elementary school girl didn't know what was going on, so she stood up and followed.
I handed her the survey box and reminded her not to get out of the car when you arrived at the scene.
Just now, the doctor said on the phone that the patient had no vital signs, but the family insisted that he should not be allowed to give first aid, and that he must first issue a death certificate before leaving.
The doctor urged me to hurry over and take a look, but an impatient male voice appeared next to him, claiming to be the father of the deceased, with suppressed irritability in his tone: "Come on, don't use it." Die fool, it's okay. ”
Then there was laughter, and another boy jokingly shouted, "Cowardly?"
I intuitively thought it was complicated, and I was more worried about the doctor's safety, so I drove away.
It was late when I arrived, and I saw flashing ambulance lights and a crowd of onlookers wrapping around the lights. They made a loud noise, and only then did they get out of the way as police cars drove by.
I opened the window, and the chatter floated in, and they said, "As for it," and there were also "the police are so nosy, and they don't care about the war." ”
When I got out of the car, I saw the look on the faces of this group of people that I would never forget in my life: they scanned me up and down without any disguise.
"This girl is in such good shape," said an old man who leaned over and said in a voice that I could just hear clearly.
"Get out of the way", I had a cold face, regretting that I didn't get a gun license, and this time I only brought an intern.
In the open space in the center of the crowd was a roll of quilts. The quilt didn't seem long enough, and a tuft of curly hair was peeking out on the side.
There's a man rolled up in it.
The doctor in the ambulance came and pointed me to an elderly couple and said they were the parents of the "patient". That is, they called the emergency number but resolutely refused to agree to the diagnosis and treatment, and only wanted a death certificate.
"Yes, yes, yes, it's supposed to burn. The old man's name was Lao Litou, and he nodded his head like a chicken pecking rice. The scene was funny, but I couldn't laugh.
I stepped forward to lift the quilt, but a black shadow suddenly pounced out and landed on the "person" who did not know life and death.
I took a step back, and the black shadow sat on the ground with the quilt in her arms and raised her head, the mother of the deceased.
She said emotionally that she was afraid that her son would be cold, so she wrapped the warmest quilt in the house around her son, meaning not to let me lift it.
It was indeed late autumn that day, and the weather turned cold, and it was about to enter the cold winter. But this mother's approach is also too weird.
"Now it's minus two degrees, are you afraid that your son will be cold, and you still put him in the courtyard?" I looked at the table below, "How long has it been since I called the police?"
The mother of the deceased was speechless, but still stared at me. I put on my gloves and straightened my face to get out of the way.
Master always said that my pretending to be fierce was quite scary, and she might have thought the same way, lowering her head and muttering something in her mouth, and rubbing the ground and taking two steps back. I lifted the quilt in front of dozens of onlookers.
There is no temperature in the innermost layer of the quilt, and the cotton tentacles are cold and hard. Lying in the quilt was a young man, who looked to be in his early twenties, with a pale face and a very thin build, his face almost sunken.
I pressed the back of my hand against his carotid artery, and all I felt was cold.
The emergency doctor said that when he came, he was like this, and he had not moved under the covers, "I guess he would have died a long time ago."
If a dead person doesn't call the police to call first aid, is it deliberately hiding something?
I squatted down to take a closer look, and found that the deceased's clothes were worn and broken in the elbow and other joints, and I could vaguely see large bruises on his body, as well as several charred black wounds.
Where did these injuries come from?
The mother of the deceased was still lying on the ground crying, looking very sad.
The wounds on the deceased's body were in the shape of long strips, I had never seen such a wound, and I was thinking about the possible cause of its formation, when the deceased's mother stopped sobbing and opened her mouth.
She introduced herself as Wu Lili, furrowed her eyebrows vigorously, her eyelids were twisted into triangles, and she made an expression of trying to remember, but her mouth was smooth as if she was reciting lines.
She said that this afternoon, her son said that he was tired after finishing work at home, and he suddenly complained of pain when he went back to bed. "There is a lot of work in autumn, and the fields are busy", and when the family went over to look, the son was already curled up with his chest clutched.
Sudden cardiac death was reasonable, but she didn't explain the charred black wounds of varying lengths on the deceased's body.
I guided her to continue, Wu Lili repeated again, "Hold your chest and don't move", rolled her eyes, rushed over and grabbed her husband's clothes and cried, saying that her son was pitiful and that her life was miserable.
The crowd of onlookers also made a commotion, as if they were grabbing seats before the performance started, and they all began to move forward. The encirclement of the crowd gradually narrowed, almost squeezing me out.
I made her cry a little irritated, rubbed her temples, and at the moment when she lowered her head, Wu Lili's crying paused.
I noticed that both husband and wife were secretly watching me.
After making eye contact with me, their cries seemed to be louder. The bloated woman sat on the ground with her ass and kicked away the pebbles around her.
In her cries, I vaguely heard the words "fool, no queen, bride price", which was illogical, and only let me know that the boy might have a problem with his IQ.
I had no intention of accompanying them to act, so I turned on the camera and walked into the courtyard of the deceased's house.
If this was a homicide, the yard was likely to be the scene of the crime. In a hurry, I had to quickly record some information myself, and maybe find the source of those wounds.
Their home is a common open bungalow in the countryside, with a stove and kitchen at the entrance, and the main and secondary bedrooms on either side.
Different from the shabby layout in the yard and kitchen, the bedroom of the old couple is warm and bright with incandescent lamps, and the floor is still wooden, and the flowers and birds are painted on it.
There was no quilt on the kang, Wu Lili followed up, and said with a crying voice that had not yet been sorted out, the quilt was wrapped around her son, "I'm afraid he will be cold." ”
The other bedroom was also furnished in the same way, but the old couple wouldn't let me in to see more. "It's the house of the eldest son and daughter-in-law, and I went out to work. ”
I saw through the crack in the door that there were wedding photos hanging on the wall, and the groom and the deceased had similar eyebrows and eyes, but they looked much taller and stronger.
Just by looking at the background, I can see that this set of photos is not cheap.
One bedroom belongs to the old couple, and the other belongs to the eldest son from other places, so where does this younger son live?
Faced with this question, the old lady's face seemed to darken. She pointed to the kitchen: "Inside".
There was no door in the kitchen, so I lifted the heavy cotton curtains, and a strange smell came to my face. The ground is filled with pantothenic sour water.
I took a few steps back, felt the light bulb on the wall of the doorway, pulled it open, and it lit up, but the scene in front of me was very different from the two rooms just now.
A few large vats near the door were pickled with sauerkraut, pressed with stones, and foaming at the water. That's where the taste comes from.
Other places where you can put your feet are stuffed with cabbage. And in the corner behind the vat, I saw an iron bed.
There were simply mats on it, and the quilts were piled up in a mess. They are also the same as the clothes on the deceased's body, which is a shiny light brown that has been unwashed for a long time.
It's more of a storage room. The child was "hidden" here for as long as he lived.
I looked back at the old couple who were following me. The woman is plump, visually weighing nearly two hundred pounds, her hair is also permed into common small curls, and she is wearing a popular fur vest, which does not look cheap.
The two bright bedrooms, and the dim "storage room" in front of me, flashed alternately in my mind—
At first, I almost thought that the wounds on the deceased were an accident of a fool who did not know the severity of the scar, and that it was really a loving and harmonious family.
I approached the iron bed and found that there were several books piled up at the "head of the bed".
In this drowsy and dirty room, there was a stack of books. The lights were so dim that I couldn't see what the book was.
There seemed to be some scratches on the wall, some black and some brown, and some marks made with fingernails.
Out of professional habit, I suspect some signals left by people who used to live here. I zoomed in with my camera, took a few photos carefully, and casually asked Wu Lili, who was following me: "What is his name and how old is he?"
She didn't seem to expect me to ask a question suddenly, and subconsciously said "hey".
Someone at the door responded: "Yes, yes, yes", and someone corrected: "Call Lao Li a fool, right, Lao Li!"
It was already the middle of the night, and the group of villagers were still laughing happily: "Where are you stupid! I still have a girlfriend, and I still go to study!"
I watched the old couple's faces turn from white to blue, and they turned red from anger.
Wu Lili seemed to feel embarrassed and wanted to send me away quickly, and finally began to talk to me about this "stupid son" in his early twenties.
I finally realized that the "hey" she subconsciously said just now was the name of the deceased.
He used to have a good name that the Great Immortal calculated. Daxian said that he would be a boy, and he was happy with Wu Lili, who had just become pregnant, but she was happy to eat too fat and had a difficult birth during childbirth. There is no concept of sending children to the hospital in the village, and children are born fools.
A fool is not worthy of a good name calculated by Daxian, let alone the favor of his parents. The people in the village called him "the fool of the old Li family", and Wu Lili and his wife called him "hey". It seems that he insulted the three words "Lao Li's family".
Not only can this child not only be unable to study and earn money, but he will not even be able to reproduce.
The family found him a stupid daughter-in-law, and he didn't give birth to a child until his daughter-in-law ran away. Wu Lili's tone was distressed by the bride price and disgusted by the deceased who failed to stay.
Because he would defecate anywhere when he was stupid, Wu Lili didn't let him sleep on the ground in the house, and rushed him to this house.
"Inside the house...... On the ground?" I couldn't help but reply: "You're too cruel to your own son, aren't you?" ”
The old lady threw out a sentence lightly: "The dog eats and takes care of the house." I opened my mouth, unable to answer.
Indeed, their dogs are all very strong, and there are exquisite nests built of red bricks, and this "shameful" second son is hidden in the kitchen.
She didn't report the crime to cover up anything at all, she just didn't want to be laughed at by outsiders.
Wu Lili still did not explain the wounds on the deceased's body. I looked around the house, and my mind was full of burns of varying lengths on the deceased's body.
Linear damage, high temperature, such injuries are rare, and the murder weapon needs to have the ability to burn and whip at the same time, I think of the soldering iron in film and television dramas.
With this in mind, I looked at the stove in the doorway, and there was a slender iron rod stuck in the coal pile, and black soot was stuck to it.
As I pulled it out, I noticed that the hands of the deceased father, which had been crossed on his waist, were twisted together again and twisted into fists.
This kind of stick has its own name in the Northeast: "iron skewers", they have a handle at one end, the other end is sharpened, and the slender tip is used to break up the coal and increase the efficiency of the stove.
In winter, children use it as a "paddle" to paddle on the river. I even drift on the ice car.
But I never imagined that more than ten years later, the iron skewer that brought happiness to countless children in the north would become a suspected killing tool. The lethal way is not to puncture, but to be whipped again and again with high temperatures.
If this is a case of abuse, it is likely to be the murder weapon. I put the iron skewers in the evidence bag, and my colleagues from the police station also arrived just in time.
I gave the address and phone number of the autopsy center to the old couple and left their information. explained that his colleagues were optimistic about them and took an ambulance back to the unit.
It was dawn, and the master was already waiting for me in the courtyard of the autopsy center.
He stared at me as I got out of the car and extinguished the cigarette butt in his hand. The first sentence is "Awesome, I'm out of the scene".
I didn't have time to explain to him that there was an emergency today, but I was busy putting "hey" on the dissection table.
He looks like he's only about 1.6 meters, but paradoxically, he has an arm span of almost 170 and a foot of 40 yards.
Looking at the details, his face is thin and detached, his body has distinct ribs, and the large joints of his limbs are also extremely prominent, as if he has been squeezed by something.
In the "wild forensic knowledge" of our master and apprentice, these manifestations are a struggle between his "suppressed height" and "real conditions"—if he has good nutrition and exercise, he can grow taller and stronger.
The preparatory measures before the autopsy were carried out in silence between me and the master, but at this moment, we both acquiesced to the fact that the boy must not have been treated well by his family before his death.
I always feel that forensic scalpels "talk" to corpses is a particularly equal act. Because people do not distinguish between high and low in the face of death, there is only one criterion to be measured when they go to the dissection table - whether their body can provide clues.
In other words, this boy will only be treated as an ordinary human body by our forensic doctors, and we will reverse what happened to him.
Whether he is a genius or a fool.
Through the bright light, I looked at the contradictions in the boy little by little.
First, he was as thin as a skeleton, but he had a bulging belly. The bulging area looks like it's on his upper abdomen.
This condition is common in the late stages of liver disease, but there is no jaundice in the conjunctiva of his eye, and the "stomach" shape does not look like ascites.
Second, he lived in such a place and was intellectually disabled, but there were no parasites in his hair and clothes. It was a very clean child.
Third, there are the scars.
On the dissecting table under the bright light, his clothes were also illuminated translucently, and the injuries on his body were clearly visible. There were linear tears on the clothes, and there were burn marks on the edges, corresponding to black-brown burns on the skin.
I couldn't tell if the black-brown was burnt soot or burnt skin, so I carefully took a sample with tweezers and put it in the evidence bag.
Some of the fresh wounds were still bloody, the first half of which was the same width, and the second half dragged the small tail in the same direction.
I took out the iron skewers I brought back and compared the sizes. Obviously, these wounds were formed by the whipping of this thing.
These raised scald scars have formed at different times, the earliest scars have faded from the charred black pigmentation, leaving only white growths, which have been formed for an incalculable time. There were also many bruises on the deceased's body, both congested and dissipated.
For a long time, he has been beaten with a red-hot iron skewer and beaten with his fists many times, and no one else can abuse him like this, it must be his parents.
Curiously, none of these burns showed signs of infection and suppuration, and even some of the earlier wounds were close to healing, forming strip-like scars protruding from the surface of the body.
I asked Master why his wound was not infected, and whether it was due to the heat.
Master pulled me over, took off my mask, and told me to take a closer look at the deceased's body and clothing. As I approached the deceased, I could faintly smell some wine, not heavy but uniform, and upon closer inspection, I would see that the smell came from a few boiling holes in his clothes.
The boy seemed to have smeared alcohol on his body, more than once.
There is also a subtle difference in the degree of hyperplasia of those healed scars – alcohol also stimulates the degeneration of the underlying skin tissue.
"He poured alcohol on his body to disinfect the wound!"
Alcohol-disinfected wounds are difficult to re-infect, and he once poured high liquor on the wound to endure the pain while preventing the infection from causing more trouble.
The Master acquiesced to my idea. Later, he told me that the taste should be the bulk liquor commonly found in the countryside.
Judging from the scene, the liquor and the iron skewer that beat him would not have been more than two meters away from his bed. Obviously he knew he was going to be beaten, but he also knew how to save himself.
It's hard to believe that this is a fool's thing to do. With this doubt, I loaded the scalpel.
As the autopsy deepened, so did my curiosity and sympathy for the boy.
The boy did not have blood in the skull, which meant that not only would he be disinfected with alcohol, but he would also know to hold his head in his hands to protect himself before being beaten – the bruises were mostly on his limbs.
I found that it was because of these positive measures that the burns on the surface of the body were not infected, and the critical parts were not fatally hit. He traded his pain for a chance to live.
What did such a tenacious child die of?
When I opened his chest, my heart sank.
The place where he had problems was in the heart.
When I opened the chest, I felt that the boy's heart was too large, and the endocardium also thickened after the incision, and the small particles in the ventricle - thrombotic plaques also confirmed this conclusion.
The cause of his death was a heart rate disturbance and possibly a sudden death from a falling blood clot, commonly known as sudden death from a heart attack.
It's hard to say that he was violently beaten to death by his parents, I sighed as I thought.
Not only that, but you may also have to remind the old couple outside to be careful of heart disease when they are older. A great sense of absurdity suddenly rose within me.
I laughed at my stupidity and was about to take a picture to call it a day, only to find that I had forgotten the deceased's swollen stomach pouch before the autopsy.
I took the bucket and spoon, and as soon as I cut a hole, the yellowish-white goo poured out and flowed all over my belly, splashing on the upper of my shoes.
I scooped it up, counted it, and weighed it. The food has not been digested much, and it is vaguely distinguishable as lumpy pasta.
The boy had nearly two thousand milliliters of chyme in his stomach. That's about the same as pouring three bottles of beer in one sitting. It's difficult to do this, and with his skinny figure, I can't imagine how he did it.
Master told me that it was probably because such people were afraid that they would not have the next meal, so they would work so hard every time they saw food, and when they saw it, they would stuff it into their stomachs and then talk about it.
I'm more sure of the cause of his death. Excessive satiety, a sudden drop in temperature, and mental agitation can promote sudden death from heart disease.
But when I saw the scars on his body, I felt that this was not the desired result. There was no direct correlation between the beating and the cause of the boy's death, and since his parents were old, it is likely that the criminal prosecution would not have been successful.
It seems that this matter can only be characterized like this, the accidental sudden death of a boy.
It was already dawn when I walked out of the dissection room, bought breakfast, bit my bun and turned on the camera to zoom in to see last night's scene. The photo I adjusted the parameters clearly showed the title and handwriting of the book at the head of the bed.
Surprisingly, the boy's messy handwriting was not a suicide note, nor was it an angry accusation against life.
They are the most basic learning materials - Hanyu Pinyin. With the crooked Chinese characters on the wall: "Chinese, Math, Sky, Friends, Mom." ”
The book at his bedside is the primary school textbook that corresponds to this.
For some reason, my tense nerves relaxed a lot when I saw this, but at the same time I was more curious.
An intellectually handicapped man living in a storage room, whipped with a red-hot iron rod, his body clean and free of parasites. He knows how to disinfect with wine and eats as much as possible.
It is a book that is placed next to the pillow to sleep with you.
The fool in the mouth of the villagers, with an IQ about the same as that of a primary school student, barely survives with all his might, occasionally reading and writing. Like a simple beast that strayed into human society, he stepped on the trap, but he still struggled to move forward under the stick.
I don't know what forces are supporting him.
Master also came into the office and opened the autopsy report for supplementary analysis.
We recovered more of the boy's suffering, such as the coexistence of bruises from the congestion and dissipation phases on his body, as with burns. He has also been punched more than once.
Master took the camera and zoomed in on the photo to look at it little by little, and he pointed out to me the parts of the photo that were not clearly captured. There was a blurry area under the boy's bed, reflecting white light under the flash. That could be a missing clue.
"Revisit", Master told me that this time he was going to go together.
We went to the village again, and Master sat in the car and handed me the law enforcement camera.
I came to the boy's house. Just one day later, his father didn't seem to recognize me.
Old man Li stared at me for a long time, and then slapped his shiny bald head and dropped the shovel in his hand.
"It's too messy in the house, let's go out and talk, go out and talk. "He didn't let me in, but called his wife, Wu Lili, the mother of the deceased, to take me to the village chief's house.
This village is not large, with fifty or sixty households and more than 200 people, but it is like an "autonomous" kingdom, and the nearest police station is a few hours' drive from here, and the police force is simply not enough. There was a fight with the police in the morning, and the police would not arrive until the afternoon.
Therefore, the supreme authority here has gradually evolved into the oldest "Old Ancestor" and "Great Immortal".
On the way to the village chief, I met a group of people who were similar to fools, and they had a similar fate to the old Li family's "hey".
Dirty, scavengers standing by a mountain of garbage clenched forks, squatting on the side of the road biting their fingers, snot dripping down their necklines, and a child with a genetically defective face.
They usually seem to be invisible, and their range of activities is limited to the small hill of garbage in the village.
Probably the only time they are remembered is when they talk about a fool in the village, and people think, "Oh, there seems to be such a fool in my hometown."
It was in this group of "fools" that someone suddenly greeted me, and it was a crisp voice: "Sister!"
I looked back and saw a middle-aged woman in her forties. She wore winter coats of various colors and two tied around her waist, but her behavior was normal.
She tilted her head and beckoned me to come over. I opened my eyes and said loudly, "Sister, you are so good-looking!" and ran away with a smile, I was a little confused.
Just as the village chief came out, he pointed to the woman and told me, "Fool!"
He also told me that this female fool used to be a high-achieving student. "I went to high school. ”
According to him, this woman is not the same as the boy, she was not born, but was forced to drop out of school because she was locked up by her family because she had no money to continue her studies, and she did not want to get married. became a madman in the slap of his father one by one.
"When you are crazy, you can't sell it for a price when you get married, so you are beaten even more by your family, and then you are even more crazy. ”
Luckily for her, she didn't go completely crazy than the boys, and her mind stayed at fifteen or sixteen. is equivalent to the IQ of a boy in elementary school, her thinking is similar to that of a high school student, she understands everything she should know, she looks good and has a sweet mouth, but she can't go out to work.
This year, her parents went out to work, and this woman's situation changed.
"There is no shortage of food and clothing, but it is pitiful. The village chief said. He avoided the body camera at my collar and circled his hands in a "insertion" gesture.
The old man Li on the side scratched his bald head, squinted his eyes and laughed. was pushed hard by his wife Wu Lili and almost fell into the ditch.
When we entered the house, the village chief talked about the dead boy as if it were a broken object.
"It's too much to manage. "He told me that in this small place of more than 200 people alone, there are six or seven fools who are not confined to their homes. The police and the doctors are far away, and it is already difficult to ensure that fools do no harm to others, and no one has ever thought of helping them.
His second sentence summed it up: "Young people who don't go out to work are better lively, and they can't be managed." ”
I was pondering the meaning of this hilarious phrase when the shrill laughter of the onlookers last night and their sparkling eyes in the lights jumped to my mind.
They are like wandering predators, randomly swarming and hurting each other, and their companions are bitten to death for food instead of help.
I once asked a question at a gathering of forensic doctors, what were the people who were vying for a place at the entrance of the market to watch the beheading.
Another female forensic doctor stopped "blowing the bottle" and squinted her eyes and told me that it was "just for excitement".
Everyone pursues different thrills, some seek achievement and perfection, and some people like the strongest sensory impact. And the idlers of this village, their life is also like looking for excitement, and the harm suffered by the bullied is a tool for them to have fun.
The village chief got up and patted the noisy electric fan, and said to himself: "People are actually just objects, if they are broken, they will be cleaned up, and if they are repaired, they will be repaired again, but if they can't be repaired, there is no way." ”
I was just about to contradict him, saying that living people are objects. But seeing that the two members of the old Li family nodded in agreement, they swallowed the words that came to their mouths.
The village chief sent us out, and the small blackboard in his yard read tonight's movie.
"That 'hey', I love to watch Ma Dashuai. He said this.
The old Li family fool knew Zhao Benshan and Fan Wei, and the village chief said that the fool would laugh when he saw them appear.
I know a little bit about this TV series. A rural tragedy in the guise of comedy, what is the "fool" laughing at, and how much does he understand?
I didn't forget the task on my body, and went to the small kitchen where the boy lived to check it out in detail.
The book on the bed is indeed a textbook with pinyin, and the handwriting on the wall is also seen in the photo.
In the photo, the reflection under the bed is a night pot, which is very clean. I remembered what Wu Lili said yesterday about "excreting in bed and kicking him out of the bedroom", which was more like a clumsy excuse.
There is also a woven bag under the bed that is commonly used for feeding. I struggled to drag it out, and inside was half a bag of cracked steamed buns. I took out a steamed bun and looked closely, there were a few green mold spots in the depths of the cracked dough, and it looked like it had been sitting for a long time.
"The steamed buns that an old neighbor gave him, hide them like a baby", Wu Lili's eyebrows furrowed together, she pouted and didn't look at the bag, and there was disgust in her tone of explanation. "It's not enough to eat steamed buns, steal pickles from home to eat. ”
I remembered the batter that overflowed from the boy's stomach and admitted that Master's speculation was reasonable.
"Where's the old neighbor?"
"She's long dead. I couldn't make out what she meant.
"That's what your son eats?"
"What if that's not the case?" she rightly asked me rhetorically. "I can't eat enough, and I don't have extra money at home to cook, so I don't let me eat and don't listen, and it's useless to fight."
"You're abusive, you've beaten people to death!" I said with an irrepressible anger in my tone.
She held on to the wooden door frame and blocked the narrow doorway, stared at me with her other hand on her hip and said, "My son doesn't need you to care, that's how he hits me." ”
Looking at this Wu Lili, who is two as wide as me, she looks very excited. The violently undulating chest and the curly hair on his head trembled slightly.
I wanted to laugh a little, so I didn't say anything more, picked up the deceased's belongings and went out the door.
I'd like to go and sit with the village chief for a while.
On the way, I met the woman who called me sister again, and she had wrinkles on her face, and there was dirt in the wrinkles. No matter how you look at it, it's hard to imagine that she just showed me an innocent smile. But her eyes were still shining.
According to the village chief, she, like the boy's mother, was also called Lili, and I forgot whether her surname was Xu or Xu, and I couldn't hear it clearly.
She stretched out her hand and wrung two handfuls on her clothes to wipe them clean, and then pulled the corner of my clothes: "Sister, Li Lao Er is dead." ”
The fool of the old Li family is friends with her, and the name of Li Lao Er is given by her, because he is the second in the family.
She often goes to the primary school in the village to listen to classes secretly, and sometimes takes Li Lao Er with her. At first, the two of them stepped on the wall tiles outside the classroom and leaned on the fence to eavesdrop, but when they found that no one was caring, they went into the classroom and sat on the threshold of the last row to listen to the teacher's lecture.
She said that she would know what the teacher said, and she also told Li Laoer.
"I taught him how to read, sister!" she said to me in a swaggering tone. Big eyes sparkling under thick eyelashes.
In her eyes I felt like I saw stars.
She said that at first, Li Lao Er was very resistant to learning things she didn't understand, so she showed Li Lao Er all kinds of small toys that she picked up from the garbage heap, and she said that there were drawing books and painted dolls.
As she spoke, she pulled out her treasure, which was a few beautiful pieces of fabric.
In fact, I can see that this is picked up from the garbage mountain, and the picture books and dolls she showed to Li Lao Er are posters and plastic figures. And the fabric she left for herself was just the silk satin folded bow that was common on Taobao cheap dresses.
I think it's more like a clever inducement than her behavior. A woman with a high school IQ knows how to coax a boy with a high school IQ to be obedient, so that the other party always maintains an interest in the outside world, watching movies, watching cars and high-rise buildings printed on billboards.
She said that Li Lao Er was willing to go to school after seeing this. She also said that when she went to school, Li Lao Er would see the things she liked outside.
Once again, I remembered the boy who had been beaten in his kitchen, drenched in alcohol, and picked up the book again.
But when Lili said this, suddenly her expression became nervous again. She said that when she came out to play, she couldn't be discovered by "them". "They" are always chasing and beating her and Li Laodi. Whenever they were found, they would whistle and call their companions, punch and kick, throw stones, and burn them with cigarette butts.
She wrapped her arms around herself, indicating that the beating hurt her.
Like two homeless little beasts, they fled from the village.
When they were beaten together, she found that no one had taught Li Lao Er how to protect herself, so she told Li Lao Er that the bleeding wound should be poured with wine, and if someone beats you, you should protect your head with your hands.
I didn't tell her that it was after Li Lao Er became more and more silent when he was beaten that the violence of the old Li Tou couple began to escalate, from slaps to fists, to brooms, to iron hammers.
Even if he doesn't cry or scream, the iron chisel can make a "zing" sound when it touches the flesh.
I asked the woman, did you also give Li Laoer's book?
The woman said no, it was Li Lao Er who helped others farm the land, and gave steamed buns in exchange for "classmates" in school. He would share those books with her.
She didn't say that the "classmates" beat them, and I guess the children were not bad to them, after all, they could be tolerated to "skip class".
I seemed to see the picture: two dirty "fools" sitting on the threshold of the village school, close together, following the words on the blackboard, reading sentence by sentence. Although neither of them probably knew what they were reading.
In the interval between being beaten, in the interval of being sexually assaulted, and in the interval of doing physical work like dogs, these two abandoned "children" snuggled up to each other and lived for a short afternoon.
I went back to the car, and Master was waiting for me.
I told him what I had seen, and I understood the reason why he had set the rules for not letting me go out alone, and that there were some accidents that we couldn't control.
Again, we talked about the results of this autopsy, and the body did have injuries, but the direct cause of death was not related to abuse.
I want Li's parents to pay for their violent behavior, and it's really hard to achieve.
When I got back, I did one thing first, sorted out the cotton clothes I didn't wear, and went on another trip to find the female fool.
She took the clothes and smiled with crooked eyes, and said to me a lot: "Thank you, sister." ”
After that day, I often think about this experience, the clear eyes of this woman, the corpse of Li Lao Er, the books and handwriting on his bedside, and the broken steamed buns overflowing in his stomach.
Thinking of a living person, pick up the iron skewer that has just beaten himself and start the stove, and then hide and read silently.
I have two masters in the police force, one is the master who accompanied me in this case, and the other is the second master of the traffic police force.
When the second master came to me, I told him about it. He was silent for a while, beckoned to let in the kittens waiting for food on the windowsill, and then he said to me, "Sister, the kittens and puppies are sick, and the veterinarians say that if you can eat them, you can live." ”
The kittens stepped on our table and ate ham sausages. A meow may indicate approval.
"You always ask me, who is alive to see, what's the point?"
"It's an instinct to stay alive and you don't need an answer. In the days when they are not in the dark, as long as there is a little hope, they only seek the result of survival, regardless of the pain of the process, only consequentialism. ”
I don't know if the second master is talking about cats or Li Lao Er, or if he is just talking to himself.
He also told me that the next time I encounter this situation, I should be smarter, at least stop going out impulsively in the middle of the night.
After speaking, the second master stood up and put on his coat in a dashing manner, and took the remaining ham sausage on the table, touched the kitten, and was bitten hard. I watched this scene, and then I thought that even the kitten would take this bite of food in order to survive, but what about Li Laoer?
In order to survive, he was only beaten and did not fight back. He is better than a kitten, but he is not even as good as a kitten.
Eventually, Li's autopsy report was on my desk.
The name field is a blank-filled slash with his father's name and contact information written on the side.
Sure enough, the conclusion of the legal department was that the case was not filed due to insufficient evidence, and Li Lao Er was convicted of sudden death.
I thought about his curled up body again. Perhaps in his simple worldview, his only friend told him that it was always right to bend over and hug himself when he felt pain, and then get up carefully. But this time the pain came from within his body and took his life as well.
It seems like it's over, but I don't want it to end like this. I won't forget that there were still too many "little beasts" trapped in that village. ”
I went to the Legal Section.
That day, for the first time, I learned from the master and slapped the table of the legal tycoon. The colleague across the table was amazed at my excitement, she looked at the case file and leaned back in her chair, and she asked me if it was too much?
I showed her all the photos I had taken over the past two days, the tidy bedroom and the messy kitchen, the handwriting on the walls, the textbooks of elementary school students and the tiles of the classrooms. And the woman's sparkling eyes.
This is not a simple sudden death or domestic violence, but the inevitable result of the amplification of the indifference and connivance of bystanders.
The result of our quarrel was that the only primary school in the village was equipped with a police station, and two police officers took turns to guard there. The village in that area went from being called to the police when someone reported a crime, to a random patrol car driving on the street.
In the video uploaded by the law enforcement recorder, the police stationed in the village came to the door and gave Li Laoer's parents a warning.
They're much more docile to me than they used to be.
Signs warning against violence were painted in the village, and the old scavengers and the woman who called me my sister entered the shelter so that at least they could survive a peaceful winter. Li Laoer's life is irretrievable, but at least his once only friend is no longer harmed.
"We can talk about ideals only after stopping mistakes," I thought. To this day, I have not received any reports of abuse from that area.
After two years, when I recorded this incident, I turned on the computer again and searched for "Ma Dashuai".
I thought about watching this whole episode of the TV series like Li Lao Er.
The opening song that begins with "Wow" is full of surprise and desire to explore the new life in the outside world. I seemed to see Li Lao Er and his good friend sitting quietly.
And the ending song is more like his real life state, and the singer is singing: "Life is like breaking through a barrier, live a life to show yourself." ”
And that's exactly what he did.
Li Er, I know you may not be that smart, but I still want to ask you, do you watch the fun, or do you see yourself from the screen?
After reading this story, I remembered a person my friend told me.
It was her high school classmate, and the boy was weird, always standing at the door of their classroom and going up and down the stairs repeatedly when the class bell rang, just not entering the classroom.
It was rumored in the school that he was actually their senior, and after failing the college entrance examination three times, he was a little stupid.
But he refused to leave the school, and when he heard his classmates reading, he would smile heartily. It's like the second Li we heard.
After hearing that rumor, she always stared at the boy unconsciously. She said she was wondering if she would ever be him one day.
After thinking like this, when the classmates laughed at the boy, she stepped forward to stop her.
I love her story as much as I love the story of the Red Bucket today. The establishment of society does not begin with a loud bang, but with one person who feels the pain of another.
(Some of the characters in the article are pseudonyms)
Editor: Little Whirlwind Cassini
Illustration: Big Five Flowers
This article is 11,605 words
Reading time 30 minutes