Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
But soon, the humiliation of the morning and the accumulated resentment from the past month surged over me like a tidal wave. I clenched my teeth and raised the hammer high...
"I'm sorry..." I whispered, then brought it down with force.
After the first strike, I couldn't stop. I lost count of how many times I hit her; all I remembered was that when I came to my senses, Ms. Zhang's face was a bloody mess.
I stared in horror at my hands, covered in blood. Trembling, I grabbed a kitchen knife and delivered a few more blows to ensure she wouldn't survive to testify against me.
That night, the darkness descended over Jinan.
I carried a simple duffel bag, blending into the crowd at the bus station. Before leaving that neighborhood, I heard the distant wail of an ambulance and police sirens—sounds that felt like whispers from death, chasing after me.
I bought a bus ticket to Zibo, the nearest city to Jinan. Sitting on the bus, I watched the scenery rush by outside the window and, in a daze, recalled an old saying from my hometown: "What you sow is grass; what you reap is thunder."
All along the way, I kept asking myself, "Was it worth it for just a few scoldings?" But there was no turning back now. I had become a murderer.
That night upon arriving in Zibo, I had no idea where to go.
As I got off the bus, the biting cold wind hit me hard. I looked around nervously, afraid someone might recognize me.
"Where are you headed, big brother? Need a place to stay?" A young man trying to solicit customers stopped me.
I stepped back in panic. "N-No, I'm fine."
I stammered my response and fled as if escaping. Later, I thought my reaction clearly showed guilt; thankfully, he was just a hustler and didn't think much of it.
I wandered the streets of Zibo all night, afraid to find a hotel for fear of having to register my ID.
I slept for a few hours on a park bench, waking up countless times from the cold and nightmares.
When dawn broke, I bought breakfast from a small stall. The owner’s radio was playing the news: “A violent murder occurred in the Cultural West Road Community of Jinan City. The victim was a 52-year-old woman, and the police suspect it was committed by a male domestic worker. They are currently in hot pursuit...”
“Damn it, what a lack of conscience,” the stall owner commented while serving me porridge. “Don’t they check these domestic workers’ backgrounds? If it were me, I’d catch such a person and...”
My hands trembled violently, nearly spilling the bowl. I hurriedly tossed down some money and fled without finishing my porridge.
I had become a rat everyone wanted to chase down. With the little money I had left, I bought a train ticket to Nanjing.
On the train, I dared not speak to anyone. Each time I saw the conductor walk by, I felt my heart race and struggled to breathe. I imagined the police suddenly bursting onto the train to arrest me.
After arriving in Nanjing, I had very little money left and could only scavenge leftover food from a small restaurant near the train station.
A week later, the owner began to suspect me: “Where are you from? Why do you keep hanging around here?”
I knew I couldn’t stay any longer. Looking into a mirror in a public restroom, I saw my unkempt face and sunken eyes—I looked like a madman.
I stole a chef’s jacket from the back kitchen, hoping to change my appearance.
“Hey, you! Stop!” A security guard suddenly shouted at me.
I was terrified and ran for my life, only to find myself cornered in a dead-end alley, about to be caught. Just as things seemed dire, the guard’s walkie-talkie crackled to life, and he turned away to deal with another matter.
Comment 0 Comment Count