Vol 3 Ch 5

I caught a taxi again in front of the hospital.

 After telling the driver my destination, I turned my head to look out the window. My racing heart gradually returned to its original tempo. Deciding to confront it head-on instead of avoiding it seemed to calm me down. With serene eyes, I took in the scenery passing outside the window.

About an hour later, I saw the familiar gray stairs in the distance.

 “Please stop up ahead.”

After paying, I stepped out from the back seat. The taxi drove off immediately. Once the car that had been blocking my view disappeared, the gray stairs leading into the neighborhood became even clearer.

Beneath a sky covered in blackness, the stairs stretched endlessly high, as if they would never end. It looked like a sheer cliff.

 The stairs were narrower than the size of a shoe, and steep as well. I began to climb. My body rose upward, step by step.

Halfway up, familiar houses came into view. Broken roofs scattered here and there. Dirty walls. Clotheslines made from electrical wires. Every shabby sight my eyes landed on felt familiar, as if 

I had seen it just yesterday.

A neighborhood crowded with old houses built along the mountain slope. Because of its position with a clear view of the moon, it was called Woljung Village. I had lived in this desolate place all my life. The bleak colors of my past were etched into every corner of this place.

I used to think about this while climbing these stairs. That even when I was climbing up, it felt like I was falling down.

Now, only the last flight of stairs remained.

 “…Haa, haa.”

Catching my breath, I stared at the house at the very end of the row. The shack still looked like it would collapse with a single hammer strike.

 The shabby walls were full of gaping holes, resembling moldy rice cakes. The brown roof, neglected for years, seemed ready to blow away with a single breath of air.

Slowly, I stepped closer. I glanced at the mailbox right next to the door. It had been untouched for so long that mail was stuffed into it tightly.

 “…….”

With trembling hands, I pushed the metal door, its paint peeling to reveal brown patches underneath. Creak. The door opened with a spine-chilling noise. I stepped over the slightly raised threshold and into the house.

It seemed like it had been empty for a long time. Cold air filled the house, and everything had gone cold, devoid of warmth.

I scanned my gaze around the house.

 The wooden bench in the middle had been broken in half and collapsed. The drying rack, once used to hang laundry, lay toppled over. The narrow yard was as messy as if a storm had swept through it.

And under the stairs leading to the storage room on the second floor, the traces of that day remained untouched. A pitch-black stain marked the spot.

 “…….”

…That was the spot where Father had collapsed, bleeding. The bright red liquid had turned that deep black over time. The dried blood seemed to outline the shape of his body.

I couldn’t bear to look at that stain any longer. To be precise, I couldn’t face what had happened that day. I closed my eyelids as if to avoid it.

But it had the opposite effect. The horrific scene replayed even more vividly in the darkness.

 The past events I had tried to bury—ones that often stabbed at me like needles—flashed past my closed eyelids like a reel of film.

 “…….”

I slowly opened my eyes again. The brief flashback left behind a long, lingering aftertaste. My eyes felt hot. I realized tears were trailing down my cheeks. I wiped my face roughly with the back of my hand and forced myself to move.

Stepping onto the wooden floor with my shoes still on, I noticed countless black footprints stamped on the floor. All the drawers of the living room cabinet were open, their contents scattered messily around.

I peered into the master bedroom. Mom’s vanity table had been overturned and ransacked. I walked over to check what was missing. A few of Mom’s precious belongings were gone.

It looked as though someone had broken in. But there was something strange about dismissing it as a simple burglary.

 Even in this shabby neighborhood, this house stood out as especially miserable. There was nothing worth stealing here except, to exaggerate, the air itself. A robber would have been more likely to leave with their own pockets emptier than before. So why would anyone bother breaking into this house?

Come to think of it, Mom’s bankbook had been tucked inside Father’s chest. As I retraced my steps trying to find the bankbook’s whereabouts, a face flashed through my mind.

 “…Uncle.”

Uncle’s voice echoed in my ears.

 ‘Never come back here again.’

I frantically stomped my feet and turned the entire house upside down. I thought there had to be something that would help me trace Uncle’s whereabouts.

But there was nothing to be found. As if possessed, I bolted out of the house.

For some reason, the shadows looked longer now. The full moon had risen, its round face eerily bright. In this moonlit neighborhood, where the sky and rooftops met, night arrived faster than anywhere else.

My eyes, drawn toward the strangely large moon, landed on the mailbox again. As expected in an abandoned house, the mailbox was stuffed full of letters. I pulled them all out and brought them into the yard. I spread them on the floor and went through them one by one.

 “…….”

But they were all useless. Bills, electricity cut-off notices… I dropped the letters and turned to go back inside.

But then I froze mid-step, goosebumps crawling up my neck. Slowly, as though I had seen a ghost, I turned back toward the mail. Drawn in, I returned to the wooden floor like I was in a trance.

My gaze fell on something lying among the letters. Earlier, I had been too desperate to notice it.

 I had definitely seen it before. Unless my memory was faulty, I knew it… from the island.

The envelope looked identical to the one I’d seen back then, except for one detail. Unlike before, where neither sender nor recipient was written, this time my name was written on it. Seo Yeowon.

Despite the unease prickling at me, I tried to dismiss it. It was just an ordinary type of envelope, the kind you could see anywhere. Convincing myself it was a coincidence, I reached out for it with my icy hands. I swallowed dryly.

 “…….”

I picked up the envelope. It was heavier than it looked, making my skin prickle with chills. The weight felt eerily familiar, like before.

I reached for the top of the envelope. It had been torn and resealed, so it opened easily with little effort. I squeezed my eyes shut and turned the envelope upside down.

Something heavy landed on my foot with a thud. Then something else spilled out with a soft, rustling sound.

Clutching my foot in shock, I opened my eyes.

 The first thing I saw was a photo under my hand. It was facedown, so I couldn’t see what it depicted. Slowly, I turned it over.

 “…What is this.”

A half-constructed building was captured within the thin rectangle of the photo. I reached for another photo a little farther away.

This one was taken from a distance. A person covered from head to toe in fabric, carrying rebar. Though small, I recognized the figure immediately.

It was me.

For a moment, I sat in a daze, lips slightly parted, my mind blank. Then, snapping out of it, I gathered all the scattered photos and looked through them.

There was a photo of me entering a store. Another of me standing in a phone booth, making a call. One of me smoking in front of the booth. Dozens of photos—every one of them featured me.

One photo even showed me wearing work gloves. Which meant… this was taken just yesterday.

“…What the h**l.”

What was this? My trembling hands finally dropped the photos. I turned my gaze slowly toward the object that had struck my foot.

At the end of my unsteady gaze was a silver object, twisted once in the middle.

My thoughts ground to a halt. My entire body shook, and I heard the sound of my teeth chattering. Honestly, I might have known what it was the moment I touched it. I had just refused to accept it.

An alarm rang in my head. I needed to run. Right now.

As I forced strength into my legs and began to rise—

Creak. A sharp screech echoed from the metal door behind me.