At one in the morning, as the bell tower chimed, a desk lamp was turned on in that empty laboratory, and then a pen was tossed over the shoulder... Can you hear the sound of the pen hitting the floor?
I never liked being a doctor, despite the sanctity in saving lives and the potential to rescue many from the grasp of death. But we must always face death. Death is too cruel for my liking! Yet, under the unwavering gaze of my parents, I submitted. For twenty years, I've gradually become accustomed to this concession. I entered medical school and, within half a year, I had swiftly become desensitized to death. It had become numb in my eyes, as we tediously studied each organ, those materials that once harbored life now seemed as mundane to us as a book/a pen. Whenever I spoke of these things to my high school friends, they'd look at me with incredulity... That's what studying in medical school was like!
In the school's laboratory building, I met Ah Ling, who was in her senior year. Preparing for her postgraduate studies, she spent more time in the lab than in her dormitory. We got along well because of her forthrightness. Sometimes, I admired her courage; I, for one, would never dare to stay reading in the lab building alone late into the night. She never believed in any tales of spirits or ghosts, always dismissing screaming girls with contempt, saying, "Medical students shouldn't be afraid of ghosts."
It was meant to be just a joke, really, just a joke. So I made up a scary story: "At one in the morning, when the bell tower chimes, turn on a desk lamp in that empty lab and toss a pen over your shoulder... If there's no sound of the pen hitting the ground, then turn around to see what stands behind you..." Ah Ling laughed, calling me a boring kid, before hurrying into that gray building...
The next day, Ah Ling was dead, found in that laboratory. The autopsy report said it was due to a sudden heart attack. My heart suddenly felt hollow...
Three years later, I also began preparing for my postgraduate studies, spending more and more time in the laboratory building. I no longer believed in tales of ghosts or spirits and had gradually forgotten everything about Ah Ling... For four years, the word "death" had blurred in my mind. It was just a term, an index... Brain death after six seconds would become irreversible death...
Night, perhaps it had grown deep. Time had become irrelevant to me, with too much information and materials cluttering my mind. The wind made the laboratory windows creak, but none of that registered with me. A low bell toll echoed from the distance...
The low tolling, like a deep vibration from the darkest depths of darkness, I rubbed my weary eyes... That tolling, like a canopy of memory, reminded me of the hoax I'd concocted three years prior, and... Ah Ling...!
The pen in my hand suddenly became conspicuously prominent, tinged with an unease, a gray mood, carrying my heart... I watched it nervously, as my hand, seemingly free from my brain's control, drew a line in the darkness... The pen was thrown over my shoulder, heartbeat... once, twice... The night remained silent... A chill was starting to roll deep in my bones, impossible...!
I picked up another pen and threw it over my shoulder... nothing... no sound! A feeling known as fear expanded into every pore of my body...
I turned around... Ah! There stood Ah Ling behind me, holding a pen...
