Xiao Bai Huang

She is like a faint white rose that just unfolds its petals. She is so innocent. She is like a warm red rose that is about to wither. She is so affectionate. She sits by the bed every time, looks at a piece of white paper in her hand, lowers her head, talks to herself, and seems to be talking to me again but I'm really afraid what she said is false, and I'm afraid what she said is true. I'm just an ordinary stranger. Every story she tells tightens my heart. She says she's a good person, she says she's a bad person, and she says she's not human at all. What do I think? What should I think? I wrote down her story. I told my friends and my family that I met an ordinary but not ordinary girl. She seemed to be an immortal goblin, and she seemed to be just an innocent adolescent girl. There were so many light in her eyes, but her voice was like continuous rain, Her story is so dramatic, but her description is so ordinary.