4 – “Bro, I’m not touching a corpse. You crazy?”
1030 Words
The room felt too small—
too quiet, and far too final.
Lu Chen sat frozen beside her for a long time, Madam Lin’s limp hand still clutched in his. Time no longer made sense. The world outside moved on, but his world had stopped breathing.
Eventually, reality forced itself in.
Her body was growing cold.
He had to…
do something.
His hands shook as he brushed her hair back. Then, with effort that felt heavier than stone, he forced himself to stand—to take a step, then another. He stumbled to the door, opened it, and shouted into the dim corridor—
“Help! Somebody—please!”
His voice bounced lifelessly off the peeling walls.
A door at the far end opened a c***k, a woman peeked out, her wary eyes scanning him.
“What’s happening?”
“My—my mom—she’s not breathing.”
His voice trembled.
“Please, I need help! I need—someone—anyone—please!”
The woman’s expression shifted without sympathy, but with discomfort.
“I’m sorry… I can’t get involved, i have kids.”
She retreated and shut the door quietly.
Another neighbor, an old man, walked up the stairs carrying groceries. He paused when he saw Lu Chen.
“Please,” Lu Chen begged, grabbing the railing to steady himself.
“Just call an ambulance, i don’t have a phone. Please.”
The old man frowned.
“Ambulance? Do you have insurance?”
“I—no, but—”
“Then don’t waste their time.”
The man brushed past him.
“I don’t want trouble.”
Lu Chen stared at the ground, breath shaking, nails digging into his palms.
To them, he was trouble.
Not a son who had just lost the only person who ever loved him.
Footsteps echoed down the hall. Then, a group of young guys passed by, laughing and joking. One of them slowed when he noticed Lu Chen standing at the door, chest heaving, his eyes red.
“Yo, what’s up with him?”
“His mom probably died or something,” another said casually. “This building’s cursed.”
Before he could think, Lu Chen grabbed the nearest one by the sleeve.
“Please. Please help me get her to a clinic. She’s—she—”
His voice cracked.
“I can’t carry her alone.”
The young man snatched his arm back.
“Bro, I’m not touching a corpse. You crazy?”
Another guy snickered.
“Just call the government hotline.”
“You know they don’t pick up,” the first said. “Come on, let’s go.”
They walked off, still laughing.
Slowly, Lu Chen’s vision darkened at the edges.
He staggered back into the room.
Madam Lin lay there—
peaceful and silent.
He swallowed a broken breath.
“…I’ll take you myself.”
He found an old blanket and wrapped her carefully—
so gently, as if she were still alive—
then lifted her into his arms.
Her weight was heavier than he remembered.
Or perhaps, he was the one who had grown weaker.
He stepped out into the hallway again.
This time, no one looked at him.
No one spoke.
Still, he felt their eyes watching from behind curtain cracks and peepholes—
the way city people watched tragedy like entertainment.
He walked down the stairs, each step echoing like a funeral drum.
By the time he reached the street, the sky had opened again.
Rain fell hard, drenching him instantly.
His cheap clothes clung to his skin, as his hair stuck to his forehead, his shoes squished with every step.
But he didn’t stop.
Not even when the cold seeped into his bones.
Not even when the weight nearly buckled his knees.
Instead, he headed toward the nearest clinic—
the same one that had turned them away before.
He approached the glass doors and kicked them gently with his foot, unable to free his hands.
“Please… please open…”
He whispered it more than he said it.
A nurse inside noticed him and hurried over—
only to stop short when she recognized him.
“You again?”
His voice trembled.
“Please. She’s gone. I just… I just need a doctor to confirm it. I need official papers. I don’t know what to do—please.”
The nurse’s expression softened for a second—
then, just as quickly, hardened again.
“We can’t help you. You didn’t pay last time. The director said not to get involved.”
“Please—”
“Go to a hospital.”
“It’ll take hours!”
“Then go early,” she said with a shrug—and pulled the door shut.
She even locked it.
Lu Chen’s breath hitched.
He stood there in the rain—
soaking,
shivering,
holding the body of the only person who had ever cared whether he lived or died.
As the night blurred around him.
He slowly lowered his head, forehead pressing against the glass.
“Please…”
His voice cracked into a broken whisper.
“I don’t know where to go…”
Lightning flashed across the sky.
Then, somewhere behind him, footsteps stopped.
Slow and deliberate.
Someone was standing there—
close enough that he could feel it.
Lu Chen didn’t notice.
He was too deep in the kind of pain that numbs everything.
Behind him, a shadowed figure stood beneath a streetlamp, the rain slanting around him as if it refused to touch his form.
He observed Lu Chen for a long moment.
Then, barely audible above the storm, he murmured:
“…Pitiful boy.
This world has already taken too much from you.”
With that, the figure stepped back into the darkness and vanished—
leaving only the distant echo of his voice.
Lu Chen’s knees buckled.
Still, he held his mother tighter, rain mixing with tears he could no longer feel.
The city didn’t look at him.
They didn’t care, they didn’t stop.
A young teenage boy with nothing left stood there alone in the storm, with death in his arms.
And yet—
he refused
to break.
- Writer
