“Xiao Yue, don’t be like this, okay? Come over quickly. Whatever happens, Ling’er will help you!” Standing on the balcony of the eighteenth floor, in the moonlight, she called out to Xiao Yue, who was moving away.
“No, Ling’er, do you know? I killed my own father! It’s true. Two years ago, I learned who my parents were, and I fantasized about becoming a wealthy young lady with the love of my biological parents, bringing you home to grow a vineyard! But it was all just a dream. My biological father was addicted to alcohol and gambling, and my biological mother was weak. Our family was already poor, and my father’s habits led us to owe tens of thousands of yuan.”
That day, when they came to claim me from the orphanage, my real nightmare began. My biological father asked me to sell my body to repay his kindness in giving birth to me. I refused and resisted, but was met with punches and kicks. My mother stood by, numbly watching without intervening. One night, while I was asleep, he called a middle-aged man to rape me and took nude photos of me. He threatened to show those photos if I didn’t comply, and I found myself forced into a nightclub, becoming a plaything for perverts. My father tricked me out of my tips and beat me every time. I was desperate!
“Ling’er, I’m sorry. No one will accompany you anymore, no one will chat with you when you’re sad, and no one will steal grapes for you to eat anymore! I’m sorry, Ling’er!” Xiao Yue stood on the eighteenth floor, tears flowing down her pale face in the dark moonlight, her already thin body looking even more helpless in the wind.
“Xiao Yue, why? Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you come to me when you were in pain? Aren’t I your best friend?” Lan Ling’er slowly approached, calling out in anguish.
She regretted not noticing her inner pain and failing to be there when it was most needed. What kind of friend was she?
