It was a Sunday morning. Although winter had arrived, the sunlight was bright and the scenery was beautiful, leaving no room for cold or loneliness. Stepping off the vehicle, I headed toward my destination, knowing deep down that this would be a difficult morning.
Last night, I had been torn between going or staying. In the past, I might have simply given in, but things are different now—or perhaps they aren't, it's just that I don't go as often. I truly love gaming; it used to be my top priority. Because of this, my parents sent me to Shenzhen to be disciplined by my aunt. It sounds ridiculous, doesn't it? Since returning, I haven't visited internet cafes much, mostly to save some face for them.
The lectures they used to give me felt like useless noise; I thought I could go whenever I wanted without anyone stopping me. But after a long hiatus, I had grown somewhat accustomed to a different routine. Walking there, my mind was a chaotic mess of indecision. Eventually, losing my rationality, I marched toward my goal. At the entrance, I told myself, "Just this once, just this once."
With that, I resolutely stepped inside, casting all my worries aside. However, having not done this for so long, the act of betraying my own conscience felt suffocating. I sat by the computer like a thief, feeling guilty and uneasy. As I gripped the mouse, I stared at the screen, but the once-exciting images now felt incredibly awkward and hollow.
I realized my heart was racing. I felt a profound sense of fear, devoid of any joy from the game. With trembling hands, I gripped the mouse—it was my only companion in that moment. I sat there, enduring the intense internal struggle.
Suddenly, my phone vibrated in my pocket. I knew I had been caught. Despite having prepared for this, the sensation of being discovered was still as intense and nerve-wracking as ever, tinged with a heavy sense of guilt. I don't understand why, even as a "repeat offender," I still feel this way. I eventually walked home, overcome by remorse. The sunlight and the breeze brushed against my face, but I felt no warmth; instead, I felt a biting chill that seemed to freeze my very bones. The walk back was agonizing. I thought to myself: if I could turn back time, I would never do it again. But alas, there is no medicine for regret.
