The next day Weiwei repeated that she had plans after work, and the day after that, she repeated the same excuse. She saw Mr. Bai growing angrier each time, his face dark red and his jaw even more square than usual, but she didn't know what else to do. She felt trapped; there was no escape from an ugly confrontation that she could think of.
I need to find another job. But where? I could barely get this one.
Weiwei sensed a dark tide approaching. Whatever strength remained drained from her. She was powerless, disheartened, and exhausted.
Weiwei was right. Each day at the office was worse than the last.
Mr. Bai always found errors in her work, and if he didn't, he invented them. Either way, Weiwei was scolded daily in front of all of her co-workers. At night, Weiwei was plagued by nightmares, each filled with her failing miserably to complete simple tasks at work or escape from shadowy monsters.
At some point, she had resolved to prove herself and started working even harder, skipping lunch breaks and taking work home. She was hoping to impress at least her colleagues, if not Mr. Bai himself with her abilities and dedication.
But it only made matters worse. Mr. Bai piled on more work as soon as she finished a file, and kept berating her for being slow and producing poor quality work.
One day, Weiwei finished an especially difficult file and brought it for review. She felt completely exhausted. Her eyes could barely focus, and she imagined rows of numbers stretching into infinity.
"You didn't account for these deductions," snapped Mr. Bai. He pointed at another folder on the side of his desk.
Where did that folder come from?
"I didn't know there were any deductions."
Did he not give it to me on purpose, to make sure all my work would go to waste?
Mr. Bai scowled. "And now what? Because your work is so sloppy, do I have to lose a customer? Go and revise it – it has to be completed today."
"Today?" Weiwei was looking through the additional documents. There was no way she could finish it, unless she spent all night on it, and maybe not even then.
"Yes. Today. And if it's not back for review by the evening, I'm not sure you should bother coming in tomorrow!"
Weiwei sat on the rock, sobbing helplessly and staring into the grey mist over the harbor. The light was dying, and the low clouds that had rolled in from the south earlier that day made everything unbearably gloomy.
In the last few days, Weiwei had been feeling tired and empty. Sometimes she had imagined that she was hollow inside.
Why was it that she only seemed to attract hate and misery? Since Grandma had passed away, there was nothing at all in her life worth living for.
Maybe I am useless. Useless, useless, useless! Completely useless and unlucky. If so, then why bother?
Weiwei started sobbing again. Tears streamed down her cheeks, blurring the view of the harbor, and were mixing with the drops of rain that were falling faster and faster.
Weiwei didn't move. What was the point? Wet or dry, hot or cold – her life was going to be miserable, unhappy, and pathetic.
The water is far down there. Should I simply jump? Who would care if I jumped? No one.
Thinking that she was all alone in the world was excruciatingly painful. Weiwei's chest hurt, she struggled to breathe.
In frenzy, Weiwei thought of her grandma's warm embrace. Grandma's face was radiant and calm.
"Why did you have to leave me, Grandma?" Weiwei exclaimed. She dropped her head onto her knees, wrapping her arms around herself. She couldn't control herself any longer. Wouldn't it be better for her to be where her parents and Grandma were? It was only a step away —a solution to all her problems.
Suddenly, Weiwei realized the raindrops had stopped hitting her head, even though the rain kept pouring.
She lifted her head very slightly to peer ahead. Yes, it was still raining. Then what happened?
Weiwei looked to the side and gasped when she noticed a man standing beside her, holding a large black umbrella over her.