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Lee Kyungmin is the last one to step out of the car while the rest of his family is already warming themselves by the newly made bonfire. His mom and sister are setting up the picnic table while his dad is struggling alone to pitch the tent.
When his mom notices him, she shoots him a glare and gestures for him to help his father, who is clearly having difficulty with the tent. Kyungmin sighs and hesitates, his eyes roaming around the area.
In all honesty, he knew he would have fun only if this place weren't so haunted and eerie. How could his family choose to camp in an open field in the middle of the forest at night? They could have chosen a park or some other place that didn't look like a scene from a horror movie.
Kyungmin trudged over to his dad, the damp leaves crunching under his feet. "Need some help, Dad?" he asked, trying to sound more enthusiastic than he felt.
His father looked up, relief washing over his face. "Yes, please. This thing is a nightmare."
Kyungmin knelt beside his dad, starting to untangle the mess of poles and canvas. The air was thick with the scent of pine and the distant calls of nocturnal animals. As they worked, the sky darkened, the shadows lengthening and twisting in the firelight.
Suddenly, a cold breeze swept through the clearing, making Kyungmin shiver. He glanced at the trees, their silhouettes stark against the twilight sky, and felt an unsettling chill. There was something oddly familiar about this place, something he couldn't quite put his finger on.
"Do you think this forest is... haunted?" Kyungmin asked, trying to keep his tone light but failing to mask the unease in his voice.
His dad chuckled. "Haunted? Nah, it's just your imagination. Forests at night can be creepy, but there's nothing to worry about."
He nodded, though he wasn't convinced. As they finally managed to get the tent upright, he couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. His eyes darted around the perimeter of their campsite, but he saw nothing unusual.
After dinner, the family gathered around the bonfire, the flames crackling and casting dancing shadows on their faces. His sister told ghost stories, her voice low and eerie, making everyone laugh nervously. Even Kyungmin found himself getting caught up in the atmosphere, though his mind kept drifting back to the feeling of unease. It made him hug his donut shaped pillow tightly.
Later that night, as Kyungmin lay in his sleeping bag, he tried to push the unsettling thoughts from his mind. But as he drifted off to sleep, he found himself dreaming.
He was in a large house, surrounded by children. They were playing, laughing, and calling his nickname—Min. He felt an overwhelming sense of joy and belonging, a warmth that spread through him. The children seemed to know him well, treating him like a beloved friend or brother.
"Min! Come play with us!" a little girl with braids called out, her eyes shining with excitement.
"Min, look at this!" a boy shouted, holding up a toy he had just fixed.
Kyungmin laughed, feeling a deep sense of happiness. "I'm coming!" he called back, running towards them.
They played games and shared stories, the room filled with laughter and the kind of joy that only children can bring. A group of them gathered around Kyungmin, their eyes filled with admiration.
"Tell us a story, Min," a small boy said, tugging at his sleeve.
Kyungmin smiled. "Alright, but only if you promise to listen carefully."
As he started telling his story, the warmth and happiness began to fade. The room grew darker, and an ominous crackling sound filled the air. Kyungmin looked around, panic rising in his chest as he saw flames licking at the walls.
"Fire!" someone screamed, and chaos erupted. Children ran in all directions, their faces twisted in fear.
"Min, help us!" a girl cried, reaching out to him as the smoke thickened.
Kyungmin tried to move, but his feet felt like they were glued to the floor. The heat intensified, and everything became a blur of flames and screams. The vividness of the dream faded that soon became a blur of fire and shadows.
He woke up with a start, his heart pounding and his breath coming in short gasps. He sat up, wiping the sweat from his forehead, trying to shake off the remnants of the nightmare.
The next morning, as they packed up, he couldn't get the dream out of his mind. He decided to take a walk around the clearing, hoping to clear his head. As he wandered, he stumbled upon an old, crumbling foundation half-hidden by overgrown weeds.
His mom noticed him staring at the ruins. "Did you find something interesting?" she asked, walking over to him.
"What used to be here?" Kyungmin asked, pointing at the foundation.
"Oh, that," his mom said, her face growing serious. "This used to be an orphanage a long time ago. It burned down in a fire, and none of the children survived. It's a tragic story."
Kyungmin's blood ran cold. The dream came rushing back to him—the house, the children, the fire. It all made sense now. He had seen one of those children, a ghost of a past life. The unease he felt, the familiarity—it was all connected to this place.
He took a deep breath, feeling a strange mix of sorrow and understanding. As they left the campsite, Kyungmin glanced back one last time, a silent farewell to the memories and the children who had once called this place home.
