Twenty Seven Years

   Chapter 117 Life is a Battle

  On September 14th, Verak dragged his sick body to the interrogation room after eating early in the morning.

Lecter is probably really interested. He arrived much earlier than Veraker today. After seeing Veraker, the first thing he did was to smile at him and explain the reason for his early arrival: "I came here early to pick out torture tools. Makes you feel too boring here."

   "Okay." Veraker's performance was a little calmer than yesterday, and he was calmly fixed on the seat by the prison guards, waiting for the test of the new day.

   "Looking at you, you are also looking forward to today." Lecter was very satisfied with Veraker's calm and calm performance, which he had never seen in other prisoners. He was sure that he had discovered a treasure.

   "I always look forward to tomorrow." Verak took a deep breath.

   Lecter raised his eyebrows: "I also always look forward to tomorrow."

  —

noon.

  Verak was thrown back to Cell 208.

Although his wounds have been treated and treated today, the abuse today is worse than yesterday. His neck, chest, arms, hands, and head are all wrapped with bandages, and some bandages are still oozing blood. The injury is no better than yesterday.

   "Chris?" Keating called out worriedly.

  Verak came back today and couldn't even hum a few times in response to Keating, and passed out directly.

   "Keting, how's Chris?" asks Ross, the musician next door.

   Keating looked at Verak, whose chest was rising and falling slightly, and his eyes were tightly closed to hide the pain, and replied, "He's still alive."

Ross tried his best to poke his head out of the gap in the fence, trying to see the situation in cell 208. Unfortunately, he was not on the opposite side, and the gap in the fence couldn't penetrate a head at all. His struggles were useless: "How did he hurt? It’s so heavy, and you’re only coming back now? Is that lunatic Lecter so ruthless now? Fortunately, I left early..."

   "Be quiet and let him have a good rest." Keating said.

  —

night.

  Verak regained consciousness and woke up at seven o'clock. Keating asked him about his situation worriedly. He told Keating what happened today, but Keating didn't say a word after hearing it.

   When the prison guards came to deliver the meals at eight o’clock, they saw one with disabled legs and the other with injuries all over, sitting against the wall, so they had to come in and give one meal to Keating, and put the other in front of Veraker.

  Verak looked at the prison guard who delivered meals to them on time these days, with a blank face: "Thank you..."

   "Hurry up and eat." The prison guard heard "thank you" again, and the coldness seemed to ease a little, and he gave an order before leaving.

  Verak glanced at the lunch box in front of him, raised his hands tremblingly, and hugged the lunch box to his chest with both hands, but he couldn't find the strength to open the lunch box and pick up the spoon.

   "Can you come over?"

  Verak looked up at Keating.

   Keating just took a bite of rice: "Come to my side, I'll feed you."

   It took more than a minute for Veraker to move less than one and a half meters to reach Keating's bedside. Keating took his lunch box, dug out a little food with a spoon, and gently put it into his mouth.

Verak, who was injured, ate very slowly, and took four or five minutes to eat half of the meal. He secretly calculated the time in his mind, stopped eating, and said weakly: "You eat... ten minutes... hurry up If you don't eat anymore... the prison guards will... come to collect the lunch boxes..."

   "I'm fine, I won't die if I don't eat a meal." Keating continued to feed, "You have no food at noon, and you are tortured every day. If you don't add more energy at night, you won't be able to survive."

  Verak didn't know what to say, so he could only silently open his mouth and eat the meal that Keating fed him mouthful.

  Ten minutes passed quickly, and the prison guard who delivered the food came to the door.

  Dark shadows entered the cell, and Veraker and Keating looked outside together.

  The prison guard who was about to open the door saw Keating feeding Veraker, and stopped holding the key: "... Hurry up."

   After finishing speaking, the prison guard looked around and left.

   "Thank you..." Verak belatedly thanked.

   "Eat quickly." Keating urged in a deep voice, and brought the meal to Verak's mouth again.

   After another ten minutes, the prison guards came over. At this time, Verak had finished his meal, and Keating also ate some. Seeing that it was almost done, the prison guards opened the door, took away the lunch box and the remaining food, and left.

   "May I give you a neck massage?" Keating asked.

  Verak, who was leaning against the bed, shook his head, still listlessly: "Today...he didn't use the double-headed fork...the neck is fine...all the medicine is applied."

   "Can it still work?"

  Verak didn't answer for the first time, and Keating only heard weak gasps.

   "It can be done." After Verak finished speaking, he lowered his head and sighed.

   "Keep going." Keating encouraged.

  Verak, who looked exhausted, lowered his head and closed his eyes as if he was asleep, said for a while, "Today I still... can't take you... to take a bath..."

   "It's okay." Keating didn't care about it as usual.

   "Actually... I also like to be clean..." Verak smiled.

   "The most important thing is to live."

"Hmm..." Verak didn't move, but opened his bloodshot eyes, "continue to tell you about the theory of equality...I talked about two chapters yesterday...today...it's time for the third chapter...those who don't want...to see that human beings are equal A man of principle...should at least...recognize the existence of a...principle of the equality of citizens...'

  Although he was exhausted and had difficulty speaking, Verac insisted on telling Keating about the content of "The Theory of Equality" that he didn't finish yesterday after the meal.

   This is not just about finishing one thing from beginning to end, but he keeps saying it to himself.

   It wasn't until late at night that he finished the third chapter intermittently.

   "It's too late...it's too late to talk about Chapter 4...let's continue tomorrow." Verak stood up staggeringly while leaning on the bed.

   "Okay, I'll wait tomorrow, let's rest." Keating said.

   "Good night...Mr. Keating..." Verak groaned in pain and climbed onto the bed.

  —

  September 15th.

  Verak was dragged away again by prison guards in the morning, and was thrown back unconscious at noon.

  This time, the nearby cells were boiling.

   "The new one is not dead yet? I think he is dead? I didn't even catch my breath when I dragged past our cell just now."

   "Damn it, can you use your brain? If he is dead, can he be dragged back? The dead man has long been thrown into the stone pile outside the prison."

"Then this guy's life is really hard, isn't it the third day? And he used to come back in half an hour and an hour. He didn't come back until noon. If it wasn't for dinner time, I think that lunatic Lecter can Play till night."

"Keating! Old man! You are so cruel. You can just grit your teeth against us. Can you stand this young man after being tortured like this? Tell me the position of gold quickly, you It can save a life!"

   "Haha, if he was a soft-hearted person, he wouldn't have changed one or two hundred roommates. What do you expect him to do? You might as well expect this young man to last a few more days!"

   "If he is dragged out tomorrow, he will definitely not be able to come back. The old wounds have not healed, and the new wounds are increasing day by day. Who can hold on?"

   "You might not be able to hold on tomorrow, but you have to be dragged out today. Who do you think will be the next one to be transferred to Keating's cell?"

  —

  September 16th.

  At eight o'clock in the evening, the prison guards delivered dinner on time.

   "Is he still awake?" The prison guard came in and handed a meal to Keating, and looked at Verak who was lying on the floor and fell asleep.

   "No, the injury is too serious, he can't hold it anymore." Keating took the lunch box and had no appetite to eat. He thought that in a few days at most, Lecter would stop, and at the very least, it would give Verak some time to recuperate, but Lecter didn't, and squeezed the little vitality left by Verak on time every day.

  The prison guard stood there staring at Veraker for a while, then walked out of the cell.

   A few seconds later, the prison guard returned, came to Veraker, helped him up, and fed him some porridge.

   "You..." From the beginning of the extended meal time, to now offering to help feed the meal, Keating didn't understand why the prison guard wanted to help Veraker.

   "This young man is not as annoying as you are. He will at least say thank you." After feeding the prison guard, he took away Keating's lunch box, which had no intention of eating, and left in a hurry.

  —

  September 17th.

  Late at night, the prison on the basement floor was snoring loudly, but beneath it, there was always a weak but firm voice speaking, speaking to myself in the darkness, and to others in the darkness.

"Suppose that no matter how unequal people's social classes are, the punishment for misdemeanors should be the same. Will this equal justice, this equal punishment happen? Everyone thinks it will happen, everyone does It is said, and it is often revealed between words, and people even stand on the roof and shout loudly." Verak sneered, "But it is still a lie. (Note: 1

   Keating listened silently.

"When the poor commit crimes, they fall into the hands of the law or the gendarmes for no reason. Rich people commit all kinds of crimes without being punished by the criminal law, or at least don't have to be afraid of it. This is the answer that this cruel society tells us , who will go to prison, labor camp and guillotine... Equality in the criminal law, as we know it today, is only used to cover up and hide the sad inequality... How long and how much sacrifice will it take to achieve this? What about equality? (Note: 2 Veraker said with a bit of emotion, he suddenly paused, "... let's stop here, we will talk about Chapter 6 tomorrow."

   "Are you okay?" Keating asked.

   "I can." Verak lay on the ground.

  The floor was covered with the mattress he had taken off the top bunk yesterday.

After recovering yesterday, he realized that his situation would only get worse and worse, so he simply put the mattress on the floor, so that at least he could lie down comfortably when he came back every day, even if he passed out, and he didn't have to struggle to crawl at night The top bunk that he couldn't climb at all now.

   "It's not an option to go on like this, judging by your deteriorating physical condition..."

   "I'm going to die any moment, am I?"

   "..."

   "Chapter 6 will be on time tomorrow."

  —

  September eighteenth.

  September 19th.

  September 20th.

  Every time Veraker was taken away or dragged back, it began to affect the hearts of the prisoners in the prison.

   Every day at noon, the prisoners came back more actively. They were not in a hurry to fall asleep, but stared in the direction of the interrogation room. Once Verak was dragged out alive, they would burst into cheers, cell to cell, and before Verak returned to cell 208, the news of his survival had spread throughout the prison.

  September 22nd, noon.

  Verak was thrown in his bunk on the floor.

Keating looked at Verak, who was covered with blood in the bandaged area, and bruised in the exposed area without bandages. This young man who was unable to move and was covered in injuries caused a huge shock to him, just like in "Origin of Species" ", "On Equality" gave him the same shock.

   "Why can't he die?!" The musician Ross next door yelled, "Keting, what is he thinking? He has been abused like this and is still holding on. Is it interesting to live?"

   Keating ignored Rose and waited patiently until night.

   This time the prison guards didn't get better after feeding him, and Verak showed no signs of sobriety.

   Keating watched the prison guard sigh and shook his head to leave, and called Veraker's name: "Chris, can you still do it?"

  Verak remained motionless.

   It wasn't until the lights were turned off at night, when Keating was about to fall asleep, that he heard Verak's voice.

   "Mr. Keating..."

"Huh?" Keating sat up suddenly and looked at Verak. Verak seemed to be paralyzed, and he still maintained the posture of the prison guard after feeding and putting down. With the light in the corridor, Keating vaguely saw him crying. flow all over the face.

   "I may...can't hold on anymore..."

  Hearing this sentence, Keating thumped in his heart: "Why?"

   "I'm going to die..." Verak's eyes were in a trance, his dry lips were slightly parted, and his throat moved up and down as he swallowed from time to time.

   "You won't die." Keating comforted.

   "I'm dying..." Valak repeated.

   Keating smiled deliberately: "No, no, no, you haven't taught me Chapter 10 of Equality."

   "It's...only nine chapters..."

   "But it's not finished." Keating didn't think that the book had only nine chapters, and it was an unfinished work.

   "I don't know what to write next... I don't know if they can succeed..." Verak's eyes were dull, he opened them, but he couldn't see anything, "I'm going to die...I already feel it..."

Keating took out a notebook from his pillow and threw it on Verak's chest: "You have persisted for nine days. You said your book was confiscated by the government, and I spent nine days rewriting nine chapters for you, but this The laptop is less than half used."

   Being imprisoned for two years, I have read the books Keating brought dozens of times, and I have long been tired of them. During this period of time, he finally found something more meaningful than re-reading those books, that is, re-recording what Verak said the night before combined with his own understanding during the day.

   "You gotta keep writing," Keating encouraged. "You gotta see them succeed. You gotta go to jail."

   There is no movement on Veraker's side.

   "One more day, Chris, just one more day and you're done, just one more day."

   "At the very least, get through the night."

   "You rest, I will wake you up tomorrow."

  —

  Notes 1 and 2: Both deleted and modified from the original text of "On Equality" written by Pierre Leroux.

  (end of this chapter)