The White Tulip (Symbolism Of My Feelings)

Secrets

Honey

The front door was at least three meters tall and had dark brown color; it was rough as I touched it, contrasting to the flat surface. I rang the bell a few times. No footsteps were perceived. No one opened. Infinite told me he was here but there was no sign of him, indicating his presence in this mansion. I had an attempt to open it myself. Not that it was unlocked...

In the end, I was standing in the entrance, witnessing the door cracking on its own. Just like in scary movies. A creepy breeze went through my body. Outside the house was white as clear as a paper sheet, yet indoors everything was pitch black. I wasn't sure if I was located in hell right then. I was about to leave the place and run for my life but I had unfinished work to do and was determined to the extent I would linger at L's home until he showed up. Who knew when I was going to talk to him another time. I am that kind of person who does his things until the end and I wasn't going to let myself run away from my own tasks.

I left the door unmoved and started walking straight ahead. The rooms looked old and unused. Dust and spider webs covered the pieces of furniture. What amused me the most was the fact that there weren't any lamps up or on any drawers. Huh?

For God's sake, L, you're living in the twenty-first century. Are you using candles or something?

Then... the front door closed... by itself again.

I widened my eyes and ran to it. I tried opening the door but no avail. The curtains of the windows coated the sunlight from outdoors and I endeavored to pull them apart without success. They seemed glued to one another plus some nails were pinned at the bottom. I looked around. I wasn't afraid of the dark but I didn't stop thinking about things which could unforeseeably happen the next minute. I ran slightly, searching for a brighter place as I bumped into many objects non-stop. My body was bruised from all colliding. How could L and his family let the door unlocked?

... What if somebody was in the house?

I thought of taking out the phone and put the 'torch' on so I could see at least where I was going.

I still doubted this mansion was where L lived. The members confirmed this was the address that the secretary of Seoul High gave me, though I wasn't assured enough.

I finally found a room where a light was penetrating, without lamps as well. On one of the walls, was a window with pieces of wood pinned on the sides. I was searching for the source of the light but I found nothing. Which was absolutely odd! Only a medium-sized box was placed in the middle of the room. I approached it and unsealed it. It was full of yellow outdated papers. Their ends were burnt, giving the impression of classic art. I sat down and took one of them with my left hand, while the other was holding the box.

The floor seemed clean without a tiny spot on it as if Mr. Proper cleaning detergent was used. So there was really someone who inhabited this ominous place.

The picture had someone's writing on it. It wasn't L's handwriting, otherwise, I'd have recognized it immediately.

''The lady is smiling because she is hiding a secret from her lover.''

This is Leonardo da Vinci's quote! He is one of my favorite artists I look up to. I can never forget what he wrote at the bottom of his own painting. But this signature... is not from the painter. Who would have written it, though? I wondered. But whoever doodled on this paper, I have to admit the words look like hieroglyphs. Even doctors, who are famous for their ugly handwriting, are better in scratching letters than this particular person.

On a side note, L sure surprised me before but never made me feel totally shocked until then. He definitely kept many secrets. Krystal actually warned me about him.

I am capable of announcing that Kim Myungsoo, the visual of Infinite, was hiding a pile of pictures of history and Mona Lisa painting was among them. I did expect him being a typical geek but collecting history items? Didn't see that coming. He definitely isn't like any other teenagers. History pictures and writings - not typical.

I situated the picture on my lap and took out another one from the box. It was a black-and-white photo this time. Two men putting their arms around each other's shoulder, smiling widely at the device that pictured them. Their clothes were old-fashioned, as expected and definitely not from this century. One of the men looked quite like... L... but he had a white face so... he might be L's great-grandfather? L didn't mention he had Caucasian blood in himself. L's face is of a typical Korean.

''Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,
Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel;
But do not dull thy palm with entertainment
Of each new-hatch'd, unfledg'd comrade.''

My lips curled into a smile. His great-grandfather was also handsome. He had that sweet smile formed on his pink thin lips. L took after him in outer appearance and this photo was a proof. The other man on the right, amazingly, looked so much like Sunggyu-oppa. Those small eyes... How could I not remember them? Also, the person had hamster-like teeth. Boy, both of them were mates and their family got on well with each other for centuries, I assume. I wouldn't have imagined their relationship to be that tight and strong.

I pulled out another object from the box. I hope L wouldn't mind that I am entering his privacy or kill me for not getting permission. I saw a drawing of a woman whose back faced me. She was wearing a long-sleeve dress and a bonnet which covered the upper part of the hair. The lady was sitting on a bench. It saddened me all of a sudden. It did even more as I read the message in the sketchbook:

''Saying goodbye isn't the hard part, it's what we have to leave behind that's hard.''

Was this sent to the woman the writer loved? My intuition didn't think so. That person must have been hurt, not able to give this letter due to, maybe, pain, not enough courage or even worse - his love's future reaction. He may have thought she would hate him, would not pay attention to him... leave him. He might have intended to walk away from her life first but was he ready to let her go?

Oh Freaking God! Since when I understood someone else's feelings that I'd never felt before. Who was I to interpret emotions?

I attempted to draw another item out of the box when I heard someone's heels clattering along the corridor.

I froze at my spot.

Somebody was in the house. But how come?

I was certain there was nobody in the isolated mansion... or that figure was hiding the whole time? Or there were more people inside than I thought. But I only made out a pair of shoes walking. I had to run. I had a bad feeling about that. Didn't know if it was actually L or not but I felt it like a threat.

I ran as fast as I could out of the bright room. I was obliged to scurry around the eerie dark building again. Even when I tripped over stuff, my mind still reminded me to get out of the place. I knew the unknown person was going after me. His steps hastened like mine and I could sense the figure approaching me. The mysterious person obviously was more athletic than I was. My speed didn't lower, despite that. It was a matter of life. Everything could have happened if I loiter there longer. In spite of the bruises and aches on my legs from bumping into things and my clumsiness from tripping over, I didn't give up.

Even in the darkness, I was able to spot the exit door - the same tall and rough-in-touch door. Without thinking I grabbed the handle and rotated it to the right. The Sun greeted me from outdoors. I was almost blind from the source of light but that's what I dreaded to see that time. Bright view of nature. I shut the door tight and continued running since there were no vehicles passing by. I had to stay away from that creepy house. I was out of breath but didn't pause even for a second in case I got caught. When I arrived at a parking lot, I fanned myself with something I was holding the whole time. That was strange. What was I carrying? As I saw the object in front of me, I figured out I took the drawing of the woman's portrait subconsciously.