September 26, 200× 12:05 AM

I thought about it for a while, and now I have two options: the first is to always be on my guard, always alert to any changes around me, and react immediately at the slightest hint of wind and grass; The second is to let it go, sleep when you should, do what you want, and leave everything to fate.

I have considered the consequences of both options, if I choose the first option, it is possible to temporarily save my life, but such a nervous life all day long, it is inevitable that I will not become a nervous patient one day; If you choose the second option, you will not be so tired, but you can't tell when you will become a guest of the morgue. Originally, I was going to be liberated when I died, as my single mother said, but when I really wanted to do it, I realized that I was actually not so free.

I was so sad and miserable that I didn't know what choice I had to make.

I looked at the clock, and after 12 o'clock in the morning, did everyone else in the supermarket sleep? Or are there some who are awake like me and face the same difficult choices as I am?

I was dazed when I heard heavy footsteps coming from the bathroom.

Is it someone who goes to the toilet? But why did he walk so slowly, and only after a long time did he hear a second footstep, as if it was difficult for him to take a step, who was it......

Wait a minute.

My breathing stopped, and my blood seemed to stop flowing for a while. It dawned on me that if someone was going to the bathroom, I should have been able to hear his footsteps "going" to the bathroom before, instead of just hearing his footsteps coming out of the bathroom as I do now.

Who will just come out of the bathroom? Moreover, why is the sound of this person's footsteps so strange, step by step, step by step, without change...... Walking slowly and dullly, like a walking corpse.

Zombie? I felt a chill all over my body, the cold hairs on my face stood on end, my hair stood on end—my God, I could come up with such a terrible and yet apt word?

The sound of heavy, slow footsteps continued, and the fear in my heart had reached its peak. I don't understand, didn't anyone else hear it? Or did someone hear it but didn't pay as much attention as I did?

I was horrified and frightened to hear the footsteps going in a certain direction, and I judged in my mind how far away the walking man was, and whether he would suddenly appear in front of me.

The horror is that the footsteps are hard for me to judge - they come and go, they are sometimes weak, sometimes strong, and the only constant is the slow rhythm. There is no vitality, no change, not even the breath of life. My fragile nerves were tormented to the point of collapse.

Suddenly, the horrible footsteps stopped abruptly in an instant, just as it had just been created, and came and went without a trace.

I waited quietly until 12:30, and the footsteps did not sound again, and my hanging heart relaxed, but my whole body softened as if it had been drained of strength. I felt exhausted for a moment, but I didn't know what to do next, whether to stay on my toes or fall asleep—the contradictory choices were in front of me.

It suddenly occurred to me that facing a choice was not the most painful; It's the most painful when you seem to have a choice, but you can't. It's like the one that asks your mother and wife who you choose to save if you fall into the water at the same time.