Common past || Markhyuck

Prolog

There are things in life that we miss. We want them to remain unchanged, but continuous development is in the nature of this world. We are just humans - we want to have a place where return will be always possible; no matter where we run and how far our legs will go. Man seeks the constancy in this mortal coil, the elements that he will be able to cling when he'll get lost in the depths of life.

For me it was always Ansan - a haven. I was afraid of change. I was afraid of what my home town might look like today. However, the time has passed and my neighborhood still looks after five years almost identically like it used to be. Nothing has changed, I thought. Nothing changes here. The same houses, the same alleys and dark recesses, the same calm neighborhood.

I drove slowly to the driveway of my old home. Home or rather the abandoned, complete ruin that has been waiting for me for the last half decade with its sad history sealed in the stale walls. I got off hurriedly from the car, admiring the work of destruction that was created by the combination of the forces of nature and man. The backyard was high above the grass belt, weeds and shrubs that no one planted here. Uninvited guests, using the free premises in the absence of the owner. The broken windows looked at me with emptiness and sadness, as if to give me the pain of years passing away in solitude.

That's how my birthday present looked like. It was homecoming to the place where my life lay in decay.

I walked carefully through the creaking stairs to the verandah preserved by the climate. I passed carefully the hole, the balanced door, welcoming the cool interior of the house that once filled the life and traces of family warmth. The only thing I saw now was the cobwebs, the broken bottles and the complete emptiness of the stolen furniture.

Twenty-two years of life in this world is enough to experience suffering and too little to fully experience what life truly is. Adults seem to be stable. The society sets you up to fulfill a certain role, gives you responsibilities and creates the profile of the ideal citizen it would like to adopt in it's arms.

After all, I was lost. As if I was omitted from the plan of creating an ideal world where everyone gets their part to play and I do not get any. Because my way was empty. I had a hole in my heart that could not be pinched.

I missed him.

I have missed all these years, living in the hope that he did not forget me. That he still keeps me in his mind.

But did he still live here? Hence they all fled. No one wanted to spend their life here, to grow old in peace and unnaturalness, surrounded by the same faces that radiate and fade, leaving years behind in oblivion.

Nearly all the house was down the tube. It has to be renovated. It seemed like I'll have a lot of work and my uncle will have to spent a lot of money. I was hoping that I would come here and be able to write a book quietly but found a brothel and at least a month's lodging at the hotel.

I left home with the thought that I was already tired of looking at this ruin. The prospect of renewal of this junk yard sucked away the remnants of optimism. I have already regretted even arriving at this place because there was not even any hope of a positive reception here.

Standing on the threshold, I saw in the distance the man who apparently walked in my direction. This plot was surrounded by forest, there was nothing worth seeing here. To be honest, I myself would be afraid to come here without a company. The area with an abandoned house falling into ruin was rather unsuitable for the postcard. After some time, the shape has changed from dark spots. I saw a boy in a school uniform who did not look like a person who forgot to steal a firewood from a destroyed living room. The closer he came, the more he seemed to look familiar. Somehow like...