My brother is dead.

His manner of death was very bizarre.

He tied razor blades and weights to the upper and lower edges of the bathroom's sliding window, creating a makeshift guillotine, and cut off his own head.

That severed head fell into the flower bed downstairs.

His body was found in the living room, in a crawling position, dragging a long trail of blood that extended all the way to the severed head.

It was as if, after the head was cut off in the bathroom, the body crawled to the living room before dying.

After asking about the situation a few times, the police confirmed that my brother committed suicide.

But they didn't explain why the body appeared in the living room.

My mother became more and more haggard. She hugged me and said, "Rong Rong, now I only have you."

But I didn't dare to tell her that on the second day after my brother's death, I received a scheduled text message sent by him: "Don't trust Mom."