Warning: Sensitive topics, eg. execution, war etc.  

We All Had To Grow Up Too Fast

D.O.’S STORY
YEAR: 3012 (6 YEARS AGO)
AREA: CAMP W63

“Kyungsoo-ah!” D.O.’s sister ran onto the high balcony towering above their camp and grabbed her brother’s arm, he was considerably younger than her, only 10 years old and she – only being 14 – had no idea how she was going to be able to look after him from now on.  “It happened.”
“W-what happened!” D.O. looked up at her with his big owl-like eyes. They were bright and uncorrupted having been sheltered from all the evil in the world up to this point.  “Did mum buy the peach cake I like? Because I really like that peach cake, the one with the cream on the top and in the middle!” and, as expected, D.O. was as ignorant as any child, especially when it came to war situations. Just hearing what her brother came out with once learning about urgent news made D.O.’s sister reconsider telling the small child what had, in fact, happened.
She furrowed her thin eyebrows “Mum and dad have had to go away for a while.” She knelt down and took his hands in hers.
 “Kyungmi noona, look over there, do you see that?” D.O. was again back to his ignorant self as they both looked over the balcony to see that the sun had already set, the only thing lighting up the area around them were the candles that their mother had placed ever so perfectly on the rails of the 30th story ledge.
“I see it Kyungsoo-ah.”
“What do you think it is noona?” he smiled blissfully as his sister suffered in silence.
“I don’t know Soo, but I think we should go.” she tried pulling him into the flat but his eyes were fixed on the lights glowing below them, marching into the distance and disappearing one by one.
“But it’s so beautiful.” Ironic, this sight was anything but beautiful as what the young boy was gazing upon was the new recruits from Camp W63 making their departure for war, carrying lanterns to light the way to death. However all that the young boy saw was a cluster of pretty illuminations, he was too young to see the horror that his elder sister could, as among them were both their parents.

Weeks past and everything remained the same for the young Kyungsoo ,apart from the fact his sister heavily relied on him to shoplift anything he possibly could, since obtaining food for the both of them became impossible. Kyungmi did her best to keep on top of everything and even managed to get a job in order to clothe her little brother for the winter.
She went hungry in order to make sure little Soo-ie got his mittens, a hat and a scarf to keep him from catching a cold.
She often physically fought hooligans who would break into their Brocken home to take what she had spent so long saving for, once again leaving D.O. freezing. It was like a cycle of disappointment; no matter how hard she tried to give her brother everything it was all taken away. Even though Kyungmi managed to keep her small job she would come home to find her sweet little brother petrified it the corner, stripped of his clothes as someone else wanted them for their own child or to sell, likewise, their home would have been stripped bare of its content every other week.
In the end, D.O. got used to living in empty space.
Everything felt bigger now:
His house,
The room,
Everything but himself; he felt smaller than ever before.

One bleak day it all got too much for Kyungmi, that high balcony –  the balcony she had watched her parents leave in a heard of lights from with her gawking, ignorant brother –  became the last thing she would ever step foot on before she fell 75m to her death, bones shattering as she entered a better place. This meant leaving the poor defenceless boy – her baby brother –  to fend for himself.
sure this seems heartless at first, but with the depression and stresses the young girl was subject to was this any surprise?

Inevitably, in the following days, D.O was found by a group of people, burglars - burglars who saw Do Kyungsoo as a perfect way to profit from nothing. He hadn’t even attempted to fight the strange men off; he had nothing to fight for, D.O was just drifting through life the best he could at that point.

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“wur it 50 fora kid unda 13?” the common low life that handed D.O. into the authorities for a mere  50 quid quizzed the Person at the ‘orphanage holding unit’ while still grasping D.O.’s little wrist so tight he may have been cutting off the blood supply. Nonetheless, D.O didn’t care; he knew his life was over by now and saw little point in fighting the inevitable.

After D.O was left he was told he had a seldom 2 days before his execution.You see, in west Korea, they were adamant upon executing orphans under the age of 13 unless they had a guardian of whom was over the age minimum. Many opposed this and riots had even been known to take place in anger-fueled protests, yet nothing ever came of it and this monstrous policy continued to run. D.O. had his sister to look after him, but not now - he had nothing. The young boy often wondered if she knew full well he would be killed or if this would have all been news for her as well.

The small Kyungsoo, much like the other children spent his time crying hysterically, red eyes rubbed roar and cheeks sore from the salt like enzymes attacking them relentlessly. This was true right up until the point that the young girl – of whom was to carry out his execution – walked into the jam-packed cell where he( and many others) were kept.  Every time an adult in the mandatory blue uniform would walk in, the room would fall silent with prayers;
‘not me, not me, not me.’ The children would chant in their heads but, obviously, it had to be one of them and when D.O.’s time came he was almost grateful for the fact his killer wouldn’t be some evil old hag but someone who looked just a scared as him, it was comforting… somehow.

“D-Do-” the girl stuttered so much that she read his name almost letter by letter. “-Kyu-Kyungsoo”

D.O. rose from his seat on the bench, a place he had fought well and hard for, seeing as there weren’t enough seats in the room for all the people and considered earning himself some momentary comfort a swell enough thing to occupy his focus.  He was led through the dark, clinical corridors of the institution, every wall appearing metallic and lacking windows, then into an enclosed rectangular room. This place did have a window yet it was to be skinny and horizontally elongated at the top of the far wall of which, alone lit up the room despite D.O. not being able to see out.
This disappointed him somewhat.

 D.O. was shakily asked to sit on a precarious wooden  chair in the middle of the box room as the girl took out a pistol and held it in her trembling hands, not daring to look at it whilst also avoiding eye contact with the child before her.
She didn’t get as far to use it.
She collapsed on the floor in a state of hysterics before that could even become an option.
She gasped as her eyes spilt tears onto the concrete floor  “I’m sorry Kyungsoo-ssi, sweetie.” She still couldn’t look at the little boy whilst she remained buckled over on the cold ground  “ I don’t mean to be like this.” The girl continued to sob and eventually let go the gun she was clutching. “you see, I’m not cut out for this job, I hate it! it’s evil! Barbaric! But it’s what I was appointed to do by the state I can’t help it, I'm so~ so~ sorry!”
The girl crying on the floor in front of D.O. couldn’t have been any older than 17 and reminded the young boy very much of his own sister – she was also caring and, in D.O.’s opinion slightly over dramatic. He warily got up from his chair and plodded over to crouch before the other in the room, removing a piece of fabric from the pocket of his ripped trousers as an offering of comfort.

“S-Sorry, it’s so~ t-tear stained; I’ve b-been using it a lot.” D.O. managed to smile at the girl of who timidly looked up at him