His teeth were sharp, his eyes were fierce, and the hard compressed biscuits made a "squeaking" sound in his mouth.

His facial features were submerged in the black hair, and his outline was blurry.

He finished a bag of compressed biscuits and drank a bottle of water before finally sighing.

He raised his head, his eyes hidden in the long black hair, and when he looked at me, his meaning was unclear.

He didn't say a word of thanks, but told me a story.

Story about him.

To make this story clear, I will tell it in the first person.

From now on, 'I' is not me, but this weird man with black hair in front of me.

The following is the dividing line, from the weirdo's self-report.

————————————

I have looked different from others since I was a child.

My hair is luxuriant, and the long black hair grows from the top of my head to the soles of my feet, and from my cheeks to my fingertips. I am like a doll trapped in a ball of wool.

My mother is a famous psychiatrist, receives state subsidies and is respected by others.

My mother cured teenagers who were addicted to the Internet, cured the mental illness of murder and arson, cured the depressed depression, cured the feudal superstition of believing that there are ghosts in the world.

Only it failed to cure me.

According to my mother, my situation is called atavism.

Atavism, also called hirsutism.

But I seem to be different from ordinary hirsutists.

My teeth were sharp, my eyes were dull, and I was slow to learn to walk and talk.

But my IQ is not low.

I can easily get the bananas my mother put in the cage, I can easily break through bulletproof glass or steel plates, and I can communicate with people at close range, although there are very few opportunities for communication.

My mother doesn't let me go out.

My mother said that I was not good enough or good enough to go out and play with the children.

I always sit on the balcony and stare blankly at the scenery outside.

I thought, it’s so blue.

Later, I became famous.

Reporters come to interview and TV stations come to report.

Countless people stood in front of me, holding long or short cameras, and asked me some mentally retarded questions.

For example, what is one plus two, and what is five minus three? For example, how many legs does a lion have, and how many heads does a tiger have? For example, which plants reproduce by themselves, and which animals are mammals.

I just started to feel curious and answered seriously.

Every time I told an answer, these people would cheer in surprise.

Their breathing was heavy and their eyes were excited. When they looked at me, they seemed to be seeing a plate of delicious fat meat.

I hate this look.

My mother patted my back, comforted me, smiled and said something I didn't understand to everyone, and then took out a piece of paper with advanced mathematics questions written on it.

Taylor expansion.

If you don't know this formula, then you are lucky, don't search for it out of curiosity.

You will be confused by the dense characters.

This is not something people should learn!

I shrunk, I know how to do this.

My mother taught me this question a month ago. If I couldn't learn it, she put me in a cage.

She covered me with honey and filled the cage with ants, cockroaches, and bees.

Do you know what it feels like when ants crawl into your body?

Do you know what it feels like to have a cockroach burrow into your ear?

Do you know what it feels like when a bee bites your lip?

I know.

It hurts, itches, is sore and numb, and life is worse than death.

I cried and begged my mother, but I only got a cold reply.

She said: "Memorize it and answer the questions correctly, and I will let you out."

I endured the pain and tried my best to remember these strange characters in my mind.

Eventually I remembered, I learned, and I could easily solve the puzzles.

My mother's eyes were cold, her tone was gentle, and her slender hands caressed my back.

"Look, I told you you could do it."

I shivered and lowered my head.

At that moment, I felt that the mother in front of me was so strange.

Like a monster with a green face and fangs, like a monster in the dark abyss.

Oh, there's one more thing I forgot to mention.

My boring life, there is nothing to say, I have become accustomed to it.

Until one night, I was in a daze and woke up in the middle of the night, only to see my mother.

She squatted beside my bed and leaned close to my ear, her breath was moist and sticky.

She said over and over again: "You are a human being, you are a human being, you are a human being..."

I closed my eyes tightly, trembling, and dared not speak.

I am a human being! Why would my mother do this?

unless……

I was covered in cold sweat and didn't dare to think about it any more.

From that day on, I couldn't sleep late at night. I would always see my mother's slender shadow walking slowly, squatting beside my bed, whispering.

I want to open my eyes and ask her why she did this.

But I don't dare.

I'm afraid of ants, I'm afraid of cockroaches, I'm afraid of bees, and I'm especially afraid of sheep.

black goat.

Just mentioning its name makes me tremble.

I don't even dare to think about it.

I digressed. Where were you talking about?

Oh, yes, I solved advanced mathematics in front of all the reporters.

The exclamations kept coming and going, and their eyes slowly changed from curiosity and affection to cautiousness when they looked at me.

They asked questions one after another.

"How did you learn?"

"Do you find this question difficult?"

"Does your daily life feel convenient?"

"..."

The problems are diverse and strange.

One person caught my attention. He was wearing a round hat, black sunglasses, and white gloves. He was fully covered.

The curve of the corner of his mouth was a little strange.

He asked: "Have you ever seen a chimpanzee?"

I was stunned for a moment, and everyone fell silent and stared at me, expecting my answer.

My heartbeat quickened, my breathing became heavy, and I looked at my mother in panic.

She showed a stiff smile, which she never showed when facing me.

She said: "See you later."

They conducted professional tests and polygraph tests on me, and several neatly dressed doctors and professors stood beside me to observe me.
To be continued...