一位“妈妈”的“抚触”(双语)
The sun was unusually strong as it streamed across Michael's face, waking him gently. There was a surreal stillness filling the room as Michael lay still, trying to work out which day it was. It felt as if he had only just lain down, but the room was hot and stuffy with the bright warmth of the sun. It was quiet and the mirror opposite him was reflecting the light into his eyes. He squinted, looking at the image of the door behind him. Something was moving, but he couldn't see what. He sat up, his stomach strangely tight, and his breathing cautious. Michael felt the warmth leave his back. Shadows crept into the room as the sun hid behind the clouds that now filled the sky. Michael turned back to the mirror, and saw the blurred outline of his mother in the doorway. Smiling with relief, he turned around – and stared.
毒射的阳光从迈克尔脸上扫过,将他从睡梦中慢慢唤醒,房间里静得出奇,他静静的躺在床上,努力想搞清楚今天是哪一天。他感觉就好像是自己刚刚躺下不久,房间里很热,屋子里充斥着阳光带来的明亮与热量。一切都静悄悄的,他对面的镜子反射着阳光刺射着他的眼睛,他斜视了一下,从镜子中看到了自己身后的门。有什么在动,但他看不清。迈克尔坐了起来,奇怪的是肚子突然纠痛起来,他小心的吸着气,感觉到暖气从自己的后背开始消失,这时天空布满了乌云,太阳被云层遮盖,阴影慢慢渗进了屋内。他又转向了镜子,看到妈妈模糊的身影就站在门口,他释然地笑了,转过身来,盯着门口。
Empty sockets stared back, devoid of anything but filmy membranes across distant juicing flesh. Long, skeletal bones reached out, the remains of muscles clinging to the forearm. Skin covered her shoulders and legs, peeling off in random layers around her joints, and veins stretched over the mottled, translucent skin of her face as the bloody stump of her mouth spread into a smile. "Hello, darling."
但是门口空空如也,什么也没有,但是在远处却看到一个榨干的人身,被一层朦胧的薄膜隔着,一具个头高挑的骷髅从里面钻了出来,小臂上残挂着缕缕肌肉,在骷髅的肩膀和腿上还残盖着皮,关节处的皮肤在不规则地剥落着,透过她那张斑驳怪异且透明的脸皮,条条血管清晰可见,这时她张开了血迹斑斑、残缺不齐的嘴巴,她笑了:“亲爱的,你好吗?”
Michael watched, frozen in horror. A bony white hand reached out, the nails ripped off revealing the tattered tissue beneath. The fingers stroked down his cheek, leaving a stripe of bloody mucus. He looked up, his eyes connecting with the empty pits of what was his mother's gaze. His stomach lurched; he fell out of bed, scrambling madly across the room. He did not try to understand, or to make it right. This was not his mother. This was not his life. Michael launched himself at the window, his mother's fingers scraping his neck. He grabbed randomly behind him; as the glass shattered around him, his hand caught a grip on bloody, matted hair. It ripped away from her as he flailed through the air.
迈克尔注视着,他被惊呆了,就在这时,一只瘦骨嶙峋、颜色苍白的手突然伸了过来,这只手的指甲盖全都给撕掉了,被扯烂的指尖露在外面,重重打在迈克尔的脸颊上,留下一道道的血迹,他的腹部接势突然一斜,整个人从床上掉了下来,接着他便在房间里发疯般地到处乱爬,他不想搞清楚这是怎么回事,也不想正视所发生的这一切,这绝不是他妈妈,他的生命不应如此结束,于是他从窗户跳了出去,而就在往外跳的一刹那间,他“妈妈”的手指一下子就碰到迈克尔的脖子,抓住了他,只见迈克尔在身后疯狂的乱抓乱挠,周围的玻璃全碎了,他的手上满是鲜血,抓到了一缕血迹斑斑、暗淡无光的头发,在被抛到空中的一瞬间迈克尔从骷髅头上扯下了这缕头发,攥在手心。
He smashed onto the concrete driveway.
他重重地摔到了水泥的车道上。
Michael's mother slammed the brakes as the body of her son landed in front of her. She leapt from the car and fell to her knees by him, sobbing in shock and confusion. There was no need to look for a pulse. She collapsed over him and cried until neighbors dragged her back from the scene of flashing fluorescent lights.
迈克尔的尸体不偏不倚正好落在他妈妈的车前,这位可怜的妈妈将车马上停了下来,跳下车,跪在迈克尔的身边,抽搐地哭了起来,她被震惊了,脑海一片混乱。而迈克尔是必死无疑了,他妈妈伏在他的尸体上哭泣着,她已经完全崩溃了,最后,邻居们拖着她离开了这个警灯晃闪的现场。
The police prepared to leave the grisly scene in less than an hour, but the Chief Inspector stood silent on the driveway. He looked from the body bag being loaded effortlessly into the ambulance to the fragmented window above him, then to the crimson hair he now held in his hand.
而警察们也准备在一个小时内抓紧离开这个令人恐怖的地方,但是主任巡官长却静静地站在车道上,他注意到裹尸袋被毫不费力地抬上了救护车,抬头看了看破碎的窗户,然后又低头端详了一下他手中的那缕血红头发,现在骷髅的头发攥在他的手中。
Michael was the fifth to die that month.
迈克尔已经是这个月第五个丧命的家伙了。
毒射的阳光从迈克尔脸上扫过,将他从睡梦中慢慢唤醒,房间里静得出奇,他静静的躺在床上,努力想搞清楚今天是哪一天。他感觉就好像是自己刚刚躺下不久,房间里很热,屋子里充斥着阳光带来的明亮与热量。一切都静悄悄的,他对面的镜子反射着阳光刺射着他的眼睛,他斜视了一下,从镜子中看到了自己身后的门。有什么在动,但他看不清。迈克尔坐了起来,奇怪的是肚子突然纠痛起来,他小心的吸着气,感觉到暖气从自己的后背开始消失,这时天空布满了乌云,太阳被云层遮盖,阴影慢慢渗进了屋内。他又转向了镜子,看到妈妈模糊的身影就站在门口,他释然地笑了,转过身来,盯着门口。
但是门口空空如也,什么也没有,但是在远处却看到一个榨干的人身,被一层朦胧的薄膜隔着,一具个头高挑的骷髅从里面钻了出来,小臂上残挂着缕缕肌肉,在骷髅的肩膀和腿上还残盖着皮,关节处的皮肤在不规则地剥落着,透过她那张斑驳怪异且透明的脸皮,条条血管清晰可见,这时她张开了血迹斑斑、残缺不齐的嘴巴,她笑了:“亲爱的,你好吗?”
迈克尔注视着,他被惊呆了,就在这时,一只瘦骨嶙峋、颜色苍白的手突然伸了过来,这只手的指甲盖全都给撕掉了,被扯烂的指尖露在外面,重重打在迈克尔的脸颊上,留下一道道的血迹,他的腹部接势突然一斜,整个人从床上掉了下来,接着他便在房间里发疯般地到处乱爬,他不想搞清楚这是怎么回事,也不想正视所发生的这一切,这绝不是他妈妈,他的生命不应如此结束,于是他从窗户跳了出去,而就在往外跳的一刹那间,他“妈妈”的手指一下子就碰到迈克尔的脖子,抓住了他,只见迈克尔在身后疯狂的乱抓乱挠,周围的玻璃全碎了,他的手上满是鲜血,抓到了一缕血迹斑斑、暗淡无光的头发,在被抛到空中的一瞬间迈克尔从骷髅头上扯下了这缕头发,攥在手心。
他重重地摔到了水泥的车道上。
迈克尔的尸体不偏不倚正好落在他妈妈的车前,这位可怜的妈妈将车马上停了下来,跳下车,跪在迈克尔的身边,抽搐地哭了起来,她被震惊了,脑海一片混乱。而迈克尔是必死无疑了,他妈妈伏在他的尸体上哭泣着,她已经完全崩溃了,最后,邻居们拖着她离开了这个警灯晃闪的现场。
而警察们也准备在一个小时内抓紧离开这个令人恐怖的地方,但是主任巡官长却静静地站在车道上,他注意到裹尸袋被毫不费力地抬上了救护车,抬头看了看破碎的窗户,然后又低头端详了一下他手中的那缕血红头发,现在骷髅的头发攥在他的手中。
迈克尔已经是这个月第五个丧命的家伙了。
The sun was unusually strong as it streamed across Michael's face, waking him gently. There was a surreal stillness filling the room as Michael lay still, trying to work out which day it was. It felt as if he had only just lain down, but the room was hot and stuffy with the bright warmth of the sun. It was quiet and the mirror opposite him was reflecting the light into his eyes. He squinted, looking at the image of the door behind him. Something was moving, but he couldn't see what. He sat up, his stomach strangely tight, and his breathing cautious. Michael felt the warmth leave his back. Shadows crept into the room as the sun hid behind the clouds that now filled the sky. Michael turned back to the mirror, and saw the blurred outline of his mother in the doorway. Smiling with relief, he turned around – and stared.
Empty sockets stared back, devoid of anything but filmy membranes across distant juicing flesh. Long, skeletal bones reached out, the remains of muscles clinging to the forearm. Skin covered her shoulders and legs, peeling off in random layers around her joints, and veins stretched over the mottled, translucent skin of her face as the bloody stump of her mouth spread into a smile. "Hello, darling."
Michael watched, frozen in horror. A bony white hand reached out, the nails ripped off revealing the tattered tissue beneath. The fingers stroked down his cheek, leaving a stripe of bloody mucus. He looked up, his eyes connecting with the empty pits of what was his mother's gaze. His stomach lurched; he fell out of bed, scrambling madly across the room. He did not try to understand, or to make it right. This was not his mother. This was not his life. Michael launched himself at the window, his mother's fingers scraping his neck. He grabbed randomly behind him; as the glass shattered around him, his hand caught a grip on bloody, matted hair. It ripped away from her as he flailed through the air.
He smashed onto the concrete driveway.
Michael's mother slammed the brakes as the body of her son landed in front of her. She leapt from the car and fell to her knees by him, sobbing in shock and confusion. There was no need to look for a pulse. She collapsed over him and cried until neighbors dragged her back from the scene of flashing fluorescent lights.
The police prepared to leave the grisly scene in less than an hour, but the Chief Inspector stood silent on the driveway. He looked from the body bag being loaded effortlessly into the ambulance to the fragmented window above him, then to the crimson hair he now held in his hand.
Michael was the fifth to die that month.