𝒐𝒐𝒐. "I didn't write this to forget who I am as a person nor did I write it for money out of desperation. I wrote this because I know, one day, someone will find this story in the corner of a library, squeezed between forgotten stories with a dus...
Kang Yeosang. October 7th, 1980. | Tuesday, 2:25 AM. WARNING: Mention of suicide.
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Heaviness fell upon Yeosang's chest, making it harder for him to breathe as he stared into pure darkness; body stiff as a rock and heart pounding in his chest, growing speed the more he tried to move. It hurts too much, lying on the cold, hard ground with the thumping in his chest pounding in his eardrums — it was starting to get hard to breathe. A grunt escapes from his mouth, eyebrows twitching together as his lips gradually began to move before he finally opened his eyes.
The moment his eyes opened, he stared into the starry sky, blue and red, swirling together in a way that made it seem like Yeosang was at the end of the world. He wasn't at home, that's for sure — not on the broken couch where he and his sister always slept, instead, he was lying in the middle of the street. It was eerily quiet, so quiet that Yeosang felt like he could hear a light buzzing sound; the street lights flickering on the sidewalk as he slowly sits up, looking around.
How did he end up here? Wasn't he home? He couldn't have slept walk, he never had a history of it. No cars were driving in his direction, merely sitting in the middle of the street with no other being but himself. He gets up from the ground and walks to the sidewalk, his bare feet aching under the cold, wet concrete.
"Where am I?" Yeosang murmured, trying to figure out if he's in a dream or this was reality. His brown eyes scanned the empty sidewalks, eyes landing on an entrance of a building, the doors wide open as if they were inviting the brunette inside. He pauses, looking down both sides of the streets, pure darkness swallowing each end making the brunette's skin crawl.
Hesitantly, Yeosang walked inside the building, the lights flickering above his head, buzzing as the light was going to lose power any second. The building didn't seem familiar to Yeosang — he had never seen it before in his life, yet, here he is, wandering around trying to figure out why he's here. He jumped, startled, from the loud elevator's ding, the doors gradually sliding open, revealing no one inside. Yeosang gazes inside the plain elevator, waiting for it to close and go upstairs to someone's floor to bring them downstairs, but it never did.
There was no one else with him, vacant and silent, but it didn't scare Yeosang. Yeosang slowly approaches the elevator, fingers touch the side of the elevator's door, peeking around before stepping inside, jumping when the door closed and began moving upstairs. He hadn't pressed any buttons to take him anywhere, and even when Yeosang checked to see what floor he was going to, there were no buttons. He swallows thickly, listening to the soft beeps of each floor he passed as the light above his head flickered, and the heavy sound of water dripping at an anxious pace.
It was like he was in a horror movie, picking all the wrong options and walking right into his death. He brings his hands in front of him, nervously rubbing his feet together for warmth as he stared above the elevator door. The screen where the numbers indicating which floor he's on didn't show anything but the letter R, blinking repeatedly as the elevator continued to rise. Finally, after what felt like hours, the elevator halted and dinged and the doors slid open.
