章節 8: Chapter 8
Din was shaking as he held onto his seat belt tightly. His mother was trying to tell him that everything was going to be fine, but in his mind, he knew that nothing was going to be fine.
A loud thud was heard. Din was tempted to look at what had happened, and it was the truck. There was fire coming in its direction. It looked as if it had slammed into a big, huge stone.
"Din!" his father yelled as Din turned to focus. His hand was still holding onto the seatbelt. "I want you to do something for me."
"Okay?" his shaky voice replied.
"Don't be scared. Just close your eyes as you do what I am about to tell you to do." His father held his mother's hand tightly. Din could see how tight their hands were as tears rolled down their cheeks. He got the message. They were all going to die. "Unbuckle your seatbelt, slowly open the door and jump out." his father explained.
"What? I -- I can't do that." He stuttered. His heart was beating fast, faster than normal.
"You have to. You have to survive first. Okay? Now do as you are instructed!" his father yelled. He knew he couldn't hold the car any longer and if his son didn't come out fast, then the three of them would all die. He won't be able to forgive himself if anything happens to his son. His son was innocent in all this.
Din was a timid child but had always pretended to be strong. At least for his sister, he had to pretend to be the hero so she wouldn't have to be scared of anything.
His mother had pleaded that he should get out. The side of her door wasn't opening either. She had no choice but to push him out of the car and watch him stumble to the ground.
Din fell into the snowy fall. He wasn't seriously injured, but he was bruised and his head was bleeding too. He couldn't stand up. His left leg was stuck in between the trees he rolled upon. He struggled to pull his leg out, but it was too late for them. Din watched the entire thing happen. Their car had hit a gallop and rolled into a huge tree, and immediately, fire came out from that direction.
Before he knew it, he couldn't hear anything anymore. No sound of help, no sound of cars, just black light, and the moment he opened his eyes, the first thing he said was a small plastic tube injected into his vein. He was at the hospital, but his question was... Who brought him there?
"Sir! Your coffee." A voice broke his thoughts and brought him back to the present day. The lady who always hands over his morning coffee whenever he comes to the company stood in front of him. She wouldn't dare touch him, but she noticed his mind was gone. Din stopped in front of the elevator and turned to look at her. The lady seemed to fear him as she kept her head low the entire time she stood next to him. She pushed her hand forward to him.
"It is cold." Din's cold voice spoke. He rejected it with a frown on his face. Memories of that night made him angry. He got to know his grandfather had brought him to the hospital, and since then, he hasn't raised a question about what he and his father had argued about the night his parents died.
"S-should I get you another, sir?" The lady asked; her head was still down.
Din didn't bother to answer her questions. He pressed the elevator button and watched it open as he stepped inside. He glanced at the woman. "Throw it away. You are excused." He pressed the button that would take him to the top floor and watched the door close.
His reflection came into the mirror in the elevator. He sighed as he held his briefcase firmly. He saw the door open and walked into his office.
"You are late!" A raspy voice said as Din turned to look at the man sitting on his chair. His legs were crossed on the table as he adjusted his glasses.
Din placed his briefcase down, removed his suit, and attached it to the hanger.
He forced a smile on his face as he turned to look at his grandfather. "I didn't know you would be here. What brings you to the office today?" Din questioned. He wasn't expecting his granddad. Normally, his grandfather would have called it he was going to come to the office, but that day he didn't.
Din hated him. All these years, he hated his grandfather and blamed him for the death of his parents, but he loved his job, so he had to endure until his grandfather handed the company over to him and retired.
"How old are you again?" His grandfather asked. Din went silent. "29?" He wasn't sure of his grandson's age. He was getting old.
Din sniffed, and his grandfather took that as a yes.
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