Last Subway Gate 7

At 11:15 late at night, I woke up on the last subway train. The phone screen is black and the memory is fragmented. There were seven people sitting in the carriage - a man with a backpack who was looking down at his cell phone, three students who kept talking, a man in a cap who was crying silently, a delicate woman who was touching up her makeup, and a tattooed man with dents on his face. Everything seemed fine until I discovered: The screen of the backpack man's mobile phone is black, but he is pretending to look at it. The conversation between the three students lasted every three seconds, word for word. The crying man's tears hung on his face and would never fall down. The lipstick of a delicate woman cannot be applied to the lips at all. The subway is abnormally slow. My watch has stopped a long time ago. At this moment, the tattooed man's voice appeared directly in my mind: "Next stop, get off with the crying man." The lights go out. The light is on. There is an extra note in my hand: "Don't trust anyone. Including me." The announcement sounded: "The next stop - the final stop - Yong'an Cemetery." I have been riding this subway for three years. There is no cemetery. But I followed anyway. There are no tombstones in the cemetery, just endless stone paths. A woman burning paper told me that I was the fourth person to get off the subway. The first three never came back. And every tombstone here has the same number engraved on it: 7. Until I met the "crying man" wearing a peaked cap. He took off his hat. Under the hat is a face exactly like mine. --- There was no one else on that subway train. From beginning to end, it's just me. When you finally reach that door, you hear a voice: "Don't trust yourself."