It was eerily quiet, not a sound was heard from the white room. There, a short man stood lazily, back against the wall, staring into the emptiness of nothing. He had ruffled, dark brown hair, and pale, white skin, dressed in a one piece white garment. Pitifully, his stomach rumbled ferociously; they hadn't given him food today. 

Sighing, the man finally decided to do something productive. This man's name was Do Kyungsoo. His age? Unknown, but he was a young man, probably in his twenties. Most of the people here were in their twenties; that was because no one ever survived after they turned thirty.

Sitting on a chair, he took a piece of paper, and using a red pen, he started drawing; drawing messy lines that reflected his own messed up life. They were first slick , then became shadowed with urgency and frustration, eventually causing the paper to let out a big rip. He immediately stopped, frustrated and annoyed, the pen dropping to the floor, it was useless to him now.

He was sick and tired of being pushed around like nothing. Tonight, he was going to do something about it, once and for all. Scrunching up the ruined paper and throwing it somewhere unimportant, he stood up and hastily turned off the flickering lights, calming his short and uneven breaths as he embraced the darkness that enveloped him. 

Walking up and down the room, he pondered hesitantly, wondering what he should do next. He knew that it wasn't going to be easy.  

With quivering lips, he cautiously asked, "Are you there?" He was greeted with the lingering silence hanging in the menacing atmosphere. Closing his eyes shut and then fluttering them open again, he finally took the courage to stand up; tentatively walking towards the half-shattered mirror. He was met by darkness, and could not see his own reflection, as the lights were turned off. In fact, he hadn't looked at his own reflection for days; he was afraid of seeing the sight of his pathetic little self. He used to be a handsome young boy, until that incident happened...he was a changed man. No longer innocent and kind; he was replaced by a cold-hearted soul. 

With shaky hands, his fingertips touched the cold glass, sending shivers down his spine. 

"Come out," he muttered again.

There was no response.

"Come out. Please, just come out!" His voice grew louder and more forceful, and as if in response, the window slammed open, the wind gushing into the all-white room; everything around him shook like thunder, sending him in a fit of terror. He turned around, away from the mirror and slowly sauntered to close the window; his heart rapidly increasing with every foreboding step he took. Heaving himself up on his tip-toes, his face met the harsh wind, blowing at him with might. He froze for a second, though. Outside, on the tree trunk, he saw her.

There she was, a young woman in her twenties, with a rope tied around her neck, hanging down from a big branch of the looming oak tree outside. The lifeless corpse had deadly looking eyes that were wide open, hung open in despair and sorrow, and her white dress was stained with crimson red blood, a knife adorned on her stomach. He winced at the horrible sight, but continued to stare.

He knew this woman, her name was Minah, very nice woman indeed, but messed up in the head. He remembered conversing with her once, they had an interesting and rather meaningful conversation, and he was quite fond of her. Too bad, now, she was dead. It didn't bother Kyungsoo too much, death wasn't something that affected this young male. What did bother him, was the fact that these corpses were a common occurrence now; he saw one every day. It was as if he was just an expectant bystander, wondering which person he would see next. Cruel, he was, but that was just how life worked. People come and go, there was no use feeling sorry, in fact, in his eyes, other people were nothing more than insignificant dust. Plus, even when he died, no one would feel sorry for him. He couldn't care less about that. 

Finally, he decided to close the window, fighting through the gust of wind, he managed to shut the window with a loud clank. Sighing in relief, he rubbed his eyes, clearing his head for a bit. How long had he been here for?

Six months.

Six months in this hell hole, jailed up in this stupid, white room without any real company; his parents had abandoned him, his friends were petrified of him, and his girlfriend had lost all faith in him. They had all betrayed him a