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墨書 Inktalez
"I know... but I just can't help but go against them..." I choked out, "My parents don't understand me, and I can't understand them either, so I skip class every day, spend nights online, partying, and hanging out in bars... I really regret it now... wuwuwu..."
The driver didn't respond immediately, but through the rearview mirror, I noticed his gaze seemed less cold. "You still have a chance to choose again," his voice trembled slightly, "but my son, he no longer has that chance... Those bastards, they..."
His words trailed off abruptly. My heart raced as I realized this might be my opportunity to survive!
"Sir, your son... where is he now?"
The driver was silent for a moment. "My son was once my entire life. Those bastards bullied him, beat him every day... until he could no longer bear it and jumped from the school building..." His voice choked with emotion. "I can't even imagine what my son was thinking in that moment he jumped. How much pain he must have felt!"
Hearing this, my heart felt like it had been pierced by a small knife. I never expected the driver to have such a painful experience.
He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white from the pressure. "So, I killed those who bullied him! I want them to pay the price! To know what pain is!"
I took a deep breath, carefully choosing my words. "Sir, I understand. You just want justice for your son. Just like you said, my parents must love me very much; your son surely loved you too. He wouldn't want to see you suffering like this."
The driver fell silent again. Through the rearview mirror, I could see the struggle, anger, and sorrow in his eyes intertwining. I knew my words had touched something deep within him.
"You’re right," he finally spoke up, his voice wrapped in deep fatigue. "But I've gone too far; there's no turning back now."
"Sir, while we can't go back on the road we've traveled, we can definitely find a way to keep moving forward."
The driver didn't respond further; he stared intently at the road ahead as if contemplating my words.
The night was deepening as the vehicle traveled lonely along the highway. The music from the radio soothed our tense and painful nerves, and the atmosphere in the car had subtly changed.
However, at that moment, the radio music suddenly cut off, and a broadcaster's voice came through:
"Dear listeners, we interrupt this program for an urgent news bulletin. We have just received reports of a young woman who was kidnapped this morning on Bar Street. The woman's name is Zhou Hui; she is approximately 1.7 meters tall with pink curly hair and wearing a short skirt.
Her friend recognized her bracelet in a trending Weibo post and confirmed her identity before reporting to the police. Authorities have swiftly responded and identified the vehicle and driver involved in this case and are currently in pursuit.
The police urge citizens to contact them immediately if they have any information regarding this case."
The broadcaster's voice echoed in the car along with a sudden screech of brakes. I looked up in shock to see the driver's eyes filled with anger and disappointment.
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