My name is Wu Rui, I’m 20 years old and a simple office worker who lives in a small town. Well, I used to be. I was fired about three months ago because, according to my boss, my “negative attitude was causing low morale amongst the other employees”. If he had said I was lazy or unwilling to work, I would have been able to say that simply wasn’t true. However, I must admit that I’ve been quite a downer lately. To put it lightly. Take today for example, I haven’t even eaten, slept, or gotten out of bed the entire day.

It was the mid-afternoon and it didn’t look like anything was going to change. Several hours from now I’d probably still find myself here: hugging my legs and staring blankly into space with all the lights turned off.

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“Tap-tap,” a polite knocking came from the door.

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I looked up. Staring at the door with a trace of fear lingering in the air around me, I felt the stiffness in my body, a side effect of staying in the same position for too long.

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I didn't want to open the door, but I knew there was no getting around it.

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Creak.

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I opened the locked door and saw a deliveryman looking for something in his sidecar. He must have heard the sound of the door opening, because he said, very politely and without raising his head, “Excuse me; please wait a minute.”

I nodded slightly and leaned against the door frame. I did not urge him; I even hoped he’d take his time.

However, the deliveryman quickly raised his head and joked with me, “Here it is! Hey man, I gotta say, your decadent lifestyle is getting worse.” He said taking a look at my appearance and surroundings.

The deliveryman's words were said with a tone that expressed familiarity. Anyone who delivered a letter every three days would become familiar with the recipient, even if it was just a one sided relationship.

I didn't want to get to know him, and always dreaded seeing him.

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The deliveryman handed me a white envelope and said with smile, “If you wouldn’t mind signing right here…This is your pen pal, right? A letter every three days - very punctual! Having a pen pal is really rare in this day and age.”

I ignored him, taking the white envelope and gazing at it. I then retreated back into the room, closed the door, and locked it.

“Well then, I’ll just sign this for you,” the deliveryman said with a loud voice from outside. He left immediately afterwards.

I slowly sat back in my bed and reassumed my previous posture. Sitting like this is the only way I could make myself feel a small sense of security, although I knew I was just deceiving myself.

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The white envelope sat in front of me. I stared at it. The only thing on the plain white envelope was information about the recipient, but no return address. There was a picture of an eye in the space where the return address should be. It looked like deranged child drew it, with its twisted and strange appearance.

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I stared at the letter and sat there all afternoon, until the last rays of the sunset directly hit the envelope through the open window.

I stretched out my hand. To be honest, I never wanted to learn what on earth could be found inside. Nevertheless, I still couldn’t help but pick up the envelope, as if something had possessed me to do so.

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I slowly tore the envelope along the dotted line and a few photos slid out; three photos in total.

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Sure enough, there were three photos as there always were. They fell on the bed neatly, as if they had been carefully arranged and nearly perfectly aligned.

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I hesitated for a long time. Finally, I couldn’t help picking up these photos as my hands trembled and the sky outside quickly darkened.

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There was a photo that represented life on the very top. In this photograph was an image of an eighteen or nineteen-year-old girl standing by a flower bouquet, making a peace sign with her right hand. Her body tilted slightly toward the bouquet, with a smile as beautiful as a flower blooming in the spring.

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It was beautiful. I took a deep breath and put the first photo aside.

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The second picture was taken on a dark riverbank, where a girl in a white dress was lying against a rock. Her scattered hair covered her face and her slender feet were powerless in the water, appearing to bob up and down with the current.

I couldn’t see the face of the girl in this photo, but I knew this was the same girl from the first photo.

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The last photo was also taken on a dark riverbank, and there was also a girl in a white dress standing in the river, the water barely reaching her waistline. Her head was turned with a beautiful smile just like the first photo. There seemed to be nothing special about it, but it felt a little strange.

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I looked at it carefully and finally realized that the girl was standing with her back to the camera, and her head was turned a full 180 degrees.

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My heart thumped faster and a chill ran down my spine. I hurriedly tucked my back against the wall, which made me less afraid.

The photos fell on the bed as I moved toward the wall. The third photo, which should have landed on top, had strangely landed at the bottom. Once again, the three photos were stacked neatly on the bed.