This novel, To Alice by Gu Shu, was published in the classic edition of children's literature in July and August of 20 10.

main content

Last/better/previous/last name

The heroine "Alice" and "I" chatted late into the night and told me her story-

She is a girl from an ordinary family, with poor academic performance and inconspicuous in the class.

Recently, however, she has always received some unsigned gifts. There is a small card at the bottom of the gift box: for Alice, silent Alice.

She always thought that this gift was for another "Alice", so she cherished it all the more, for fear that if she really wanted it, she would not be able to pay it back.

Finally, she received an album with the words "Dedicated to Alice, Silent Alice" written in hot stamping at the bottom. Besides, the main characters in the photos in the album are all her. Only then did she know that there was no other "Alice" and she was the real "Alice".

To her surprise, she found a vague reflection on the window glass in the photo. She asked someone to enlarge the photo, "32 Hubin Road".

Strange place names. It scares her.

I'm getting closer to you, and I'm getting more and more dangerous.

under

She came to 32 Hubin Road. The door was open.

It's dark inside.

A boy came out and pretended to be a vampire to make her laugh, but she felt inexplicable fear.

Later she learned that his name was Jojo.

All the girls in the class call him "Alice's friend".

Jojo forced her to finish one psychological questionnaire after another and gave her a magic trick, chocolate magic.

Soon, Jojo disappeared and reappeared, mysteriously coming and going.

Later, she realized that Jojo was cheating on her, and the cheating began when she received the gift. He studied psychology as an undergraduate. He lied to her just to do a clinical experiment, and she was the experiment. Magic, psychological questionnaires and gifts are all experimental props.

After that, she never saw him again. It is said that he gave up psychology and went to a remote university.

She never used the name "Alice" again.

"Is the story over?" "I" asked

"it's over." She said, "There is light in everyone's heart. It's true. He saw it. "

Partial text

I have been hosting this boring radio night program for five years. Every day, countless insomniacs call in and tell me their most secret stories without reservation. But in reality, I live a walking dead life and have no intimate friends. I have had a cold war with my family for several days.

People's stories bored me. There are many things about real estate, men and women, and daily life. Many times I just answer with "oh, oh, um", and the audience doesn't care. They don't seek comfort, they just need a stranger to listen to them on the other end of the radio wave.

And my pleasure basically lies in imagining the appearance of the opposite person according to the radio waves, whether it is tall or short, fat or thin, wearing a silver-gray wig dragged to the ground or colored earrings like flowers and bones.

The most interesting thing is that I will never see them again.

She called on a dark rainy night.

On a dark rainy night, the telephone is always twice as long as usual. Because those lonely people have to stay at home, the rain hanging outside the window is like tears that can't stop. They will certainly be able to resist the invasion of the cold night and tell me the secrets of their hearts.

Her voice is very light, like a violet blooming quietly in the grass of Yuan Ye in spring. I don't know why, I feel that sound almost fills my whole eardrum, the whole studio and even the whole radio station.

"When do you think a person is most likely to be in extreme danger?" Unexpectedly, that woman suddenly asked me questions.

"Er ... let me think," one of my men consciously pressed the earphone. "When I was a child?"

"I think it's time to dream."

"When dreaming?" I repeated mechanically. For many years, no one has talked to me about dreams.

"Yes, that dream was so beautiful that you not only didn't notice the danger, but even forgot your own existence-"

Her voice is relaxed, as if it were played on a tape.

"At the beginning of the story, I just turned sixteen and went to high school in a school."

16 years old, I am an ordinary, plain girl, surprisingly ordinary.

In the ten years I grew up, there were many things from scratch, even surplus, and from scratch. Maybe this is the case in every era, but in this decade, everything has been greatly accelerated.

In this era of great material wealth, poor reading ability is a heinous crime in itself, not to mention that I can neither play the piano nor speak English fluently, and I am a complete waste.

My parents have long given up hope on me, and my failure has made them lose face in front of outsiders. No, they didn't abuse me, but they still managed to feed me three meals a day, which made me even more embarrassed.

For me, school life is like the scenery outside the carriage. There is always a kind of indifference like seeing flowers in the fog. I'm tired of getting warmth and hope from the teacher's words.

Among my peers, I look particularly thin, rigid and inconspicuous. I never open my uniform collar, and I don't pin my skirt above my knee like the girls in my class. Sometimes I can't say a word all day.

After school, I always sit alone on the steps behind the teaching building until it gets dark.

Do your homework late at night, then hide in the quilt and open your eyes in the dark, and the day is over.

I often feel strongly that I am also a part of this from scratch and from scratch.

In this way, I can't see any future at all, no future in any form.

I have friends, too, but communication stops at borrowing and returning class notes. Maybe they think I'm bored, too

So, when that happened, the whole class made a sensation.

It was a Friday after school and the class was very noisy. Everyone is discussing where to play. But for people like me, the arrival of the weekend means nothing more than cramming or staring blankly at home. I slowly packed my schoolbag and threw my pen into the pencil box.

"Wow!" A boy sitting by the window suddenly let out a cry of surprise and shouted in his ugly voice, "Bear! Bear! Everybody, pay attention to the bear! "

Everyone was in a commotion, and I looked up.

A huge teddy bear rises like a ghost from the window near the classroom corridor and moves near the window glass, as if peeping.

I stared at its two brown eyes like glass beads through the crowd in the whole classroom.

There always seems to be a white film between my classmates and those lively events.

Someone opened the window and dragged the bear in. A classmate with a big bear outside the window excitedly ran in from the door and shouted, "It's a courier. Guess who gave it to whom? "

Everyone immediately quieted down and waited with bated breath.

But these things are always unexpected. Zhang San gave them to Li Si. There have been many times before. Chocolate wrapped in silver foil, wool gloves embroidered with someone's English name, and even a bag of fresh strawberries in the season have nothing to do with me.

However, this bear is bigger and more eye-catching than the previous gift.

"For Alice ... Silent Alice." The girl who brought the bear back to the classroom exaggeratedly read, "Quiet, Alice?"

On the brown body of the teddy bear, there is a paper tape with such a sentence written on it.

Everyone is talking again. When the girl read "Alice", my heart jumped, but I didn't realize who Alice in her mouth would be.

Yes, my English name is ALICE, which was casually named by the teacher in class. I don't like Alice at all. I don't deserve that name. I can't take my pocket watch to see Mr. Rabbit, or grow bigger and smaller and go to a hall full of doors.

There is no door in my world.

But the girl came up to me puzzled.

"Alice?" She asked, "Who is it? Is that you? "

I have never had such an experience of being watched by the whole class. Instinctively, I lowered my head, shrank back, clasped my hands on the pleats of the school uniform skirt, and almost spit out a word "no"

"There is only one Alice in our class." Someone said, "It should be her."

I dare not answer, because I am afraid that a beautiful girl will suddenly jump out and say "No, Alice is my screen name", and then I will become the laughing stock of everyone in an instant.

But it didn't happen. None of the girls claimed it, including the girl wearing a wide-brimmed hairpin, the girl wearing lace socks, the girl with a diamond heart on her chest and the girl wearing a sapphire tail ring on her little finger. No one came to claim it.

It's just that someone is whispering, as if to say, why her and who will give her a gift.

So the huge teddy bear was stuffed in my hand.

I hold it and feel out of breath. At the same time, I felt a strong heartbeat again and again. "Knock, knock, knock" is like drumming, as if the bear in my hand suddenly came to life.

For Alice ... ... the silent Alice.

I don't know how I got home. I don't even have room for bears.

My parents came back late as usual.

My mother noticed the bear and asked me, "Who sent it?"

"My classmate left it to me." I lied and blushed, but in the light, my mother didn't notice.

"Boys or girls?"

"Girls." I whispered.

"If you have time to be busy with these things, you might as well focus on your homework." She gave me a stern look.

Dad didn't ask me anything, so I could see that he was tired.

That night, I fell asleep listening to music, and I always felt that someone was standing in the dark staring at me.

I was absent-minded at school the next day, and my bike rushed to the sidewalk only to find that I was scared out in a cold sweat.

"You're crazy," I touched my scraped knee. "It is impossible for someone to give you a gift. There must be some mistake. The gift is for another Alice. "

Nevertheless, a faint, unburned flame rose in my heart, and even this little expectation never happened.

However, the whole week passed like running water and nothing happened. I snuffed out my hope and fell into the past life, just like a bubble trapped in the mud. I'm sixteen years old and lonely as a black-and-white movie.

Monday. A pigeon flew into the classroom, and the boys tried to catch it and ended in failure.

Tuesday. I received a letter. The envelope is kraft paper. It is very big, but it is only an advertisement.

Wednesday. In order to expand, the school began to tear down the old house. I think this old house is very beautiful. In winter, the gray tiles are covered with snow, which is worth a hundred new classrooms.

Thursday. Nothing happened.

Friday. Friday. Friday.

Go back to the classroom from the canteen at noon and walk slowly through the door. Suddenly I feel that the girls who are eating snacks or gossiping in the class suddenly quiet down. Some people pretend not to look at me, but the corner of their eyes falls on me.

I hurried back to my seat, reached into the drawer for a tissue, but touched a box, almost reflexively retracted my hand and looked around.

They rolled their eyes quickly.

I stretched out my hand again, took out the box that was not particularly big, held it in my arms, hurried out of the classroom, ran to the grove beside the playground in one breath and leaned against a ginkgo tree. The fan-shaped Jin Yezi was unstoppable and was swept up by the wind.

At this time, I dare to look at the box in my hand carefully

It is dark black, soft and delicate, with a silver buckle in the middle, which is very simple.

My fingertips trembled and I gently opened the button. The box opened with a click.

There was no monster jumping out and blowing my face black. There was a thick layer of black velvet on the gray box, lying on a thin silver chain and hanging a small watch.

I picked it up with my thumb and forefinger, like a snack on an afternoon tea plate. "Pa", it bounced off in my hand, like a rose blooming instantly. Sunlight shines through the raised glass shell and illuminates the Roman numerals on the hour hand. My eyes closed naturally because I couldn't stand the bright light.

I froze.

For me, who rarely received gifts from others since I was a child, such gifts, even if they are cheap, have gone far beyond my poor understanding of gifts.

At this moment, I suddenly thought of something and reached out to uncover the velvet in the box.

Sure enough, there is a small card at the bottom of the box, or that sentence-

"For Alice ... Silent Alice."

At this time, I did something that was impossible before.

I squatted down, put the box on the ground, took out my watch with both hands and put it around my neck.

The harsh bell for class broke the misty silence in the forest. I know I should leave here at once and go back to the classroom, but I knelt there, as if I was deeply attracted by something, and kept rubbing the watch chain hanging from my neck with my hands, and I couldn't move a cent.

I hung my watch on my body and hid it in a deep drawer when I got home. I was afraid that I would lose it and I wouldn't be able to pay it back when Alice really came to ask for it.

Deep down, to some extent, I really have some expectations.

"Hello, stranger." Every morning when I wake up, I say to the invisible man, "Who are you? Where are you? "

The teacher talked to me and said that my personality seemed a little more lively than before: "This is a good thing. You should laugh like this more often. "

"hmm." I nodded, always stiff mouth naturally pulled out a smile.

What's wrong with me?

After about two weeks of silence, the third gift arrived as scheduled, a flat package.

I was careful not to open it in class. Everyone is excited to see the big teddy bear. If it is something that attracts people's attention, I don't know what others think.

Unlike me, the person who gave Alice a gift acted casually and didn't seem to care much about other people's eyes.

At night, under the light, I carefully unpacked the package with a utility knife.

Unexpectedly, this gift is neither conspicuous nor expensive.

That is an album of black satin.

My heart was pounding, and when I opened the first page, I almost left my art knife in my hand-

It's not someone else's. It's all my photos.

I covered my mouth and turned my fingers like a spasm. There are photos of me cycling in the morning, eating at noon and going home at night, and even photos of me sitting on the steps behind the teaching building in a daze, every side and every moment.

My life has always been like a stagnant pool. I have never been so excited, and I have never been so concerned by others. No, not even 1%.

At that moment, I didn't know whether my reaction should be surprise, fear or joy.

But a later enlarged photo has already told me.

That's me kneeling in the school Woods, surrounded by golden ginkgo leaves, holding my watch on my chest.

In the photo, I have a smile on my mouth and a warm light on my face, and I am ecstatic.

I didn't know I could do this, and my expression was even a little good.

My fingers gradually relaxed and turned to the last page.

Black album bottom page, impressively hot gold characters-

"For Alice ... Silent Alice."

This time, I finally made sure that there was no other Alice.

I am the only Alice, the silent Alice.

However, there was no news for the next two weeks.

I feel uneasy.

Wait another two weeks, it's still the same.

I began to check at the school gate every day and asked if there were any letters or express delivery for me. Whether at school or after school, I almost always look around nervously to see if anyone is following me and taking pictures of me. With the repetition of time, the frequency of this kind of watching is getting faster and faster like drumming, from once a day to several times a day, even after class. I feel breathless.

I finally felt fear, not from others, but from my own dependence on this matter.

Stranger, is something wrong with you? Or a boring game?

After a month in a row, I think I should find that person, uncover the mystery, return all the gifts I received before, and end this inexplicable suffering.

End my hopes.

Having said that, there is almost no clue to the gift giver. It seems that the other party deliberately made me unable to find him and cut off all the clues.

I checked the label of the teddy bear, asked several toy stores and called the watch company several times. When I found nothing, when I looked through the photo album again, I made an unexpected and important discovery.

When I took the photo out of my photo bag and looked at it carefully, I found a photo on my way home from school. There is a vague reflection of a man with a camera in the next window. Because the center of the composition is my back, I didn't notice it for the first time.

I can't restrain my excitement. I didn't have time to change my shoes, so I hurried to a small printing agency nearby in my slippers and asked them to enlarge the photos and send them urgently.

About ten minutes later, the enlarged photo was given to me.

The reflection on the glass window is still so vague, except for the basic outline in a mass of light and shadow, even the five senses can't be seen clearly.

"Can it be clearer?" I asked in disappointment.

"Sorry, our machine is like this, or you can try to go to the shop where this photo was originally developed." The owner said.

"The store that originally developed this photo?"

"Yes," he said a name. "Didn't you wash it at their house?"

"How do you know?" I was very surprised.

"The symbol of their home." The shopkeeper said, "You can only see it under the machine."

I have a feeling of being suddenly enlightened. I was about to go home when the shopkeeper added, "Your friend took a good photo."

My friend?

The next day, I went to the printing factory. They said that the photo developer didn't come to the store in person, and the photos were sent and paid for. Everything is done online, fast and confidential, and the developed photos are sent to the following address.

"You see, I am the person in the photo," I even blushed when I spoke, and I lied fluently. "My friend moved when my parents and I went abroad, and now I have to find him."

That address is a complete stranger, Hubin Road 18.

I'm getting closer to you, and I'm getting more and more dangerous.