"Yongguk." A voice called out from the distance. "For God's sake. Yongguk, listen to me for once."

Yongguk stopped in his tracks. "What do you want, mom." He made emphasis to spit the last word. Yongguk was prepared to uncover the mystery behind the wall, into the secret room that was hidden from all. He bit his lip roughly with enough force to break the papery skin stretching over his false smile, knowing the reply he would get. Yongguk had realised that everything that comes from was also a subconscious thought of his own. Everything is a dress rehearsal and soon the curtains will fall for the final call.

"I'm really sorry." She stuttered. Yongguk turned to face her, seeing tears fall from her delicately aged face. "I couldn't be there a-and now everything has just turned to s-." On trembling limbs, the motherly figure slowly walked towards her son, placing a shaking hand on each of his cheeks, trying to wipe away tears that did not fall. Yongguk didn't feel a thing. He knew she wasn't there and that was a first. "Aigoo, my son." She stretched a smile to try and comfort him, much like a mother would act over something as small as a grazed knee. "Gukkie." She used the nickname Yongguk was called by as a small child. "Where's your father?"

Yongguk gulped, swallowing back the swollen lump in his throat. "H-he re-m-married umma. He moved abroad. T-to China I think." His mother sighed and planted a kiss on his forehand, which was seemingly impossible as she was significantly shorter than her son. "He left me. He left us, mom."

"Yongguk, no matter what happens, your dad still loves you. I still love you. Nothing will change that. You've done a lot over the past few months, but I will still support you no matter what happens. Your dad has probably left because of the guilt he feels, but don't beat yourself up about it. You've become successful and you're going to be a dad yourself, I know deep down that you won't abandon your own child."

"I'm what?"

She changed the subject. "You know, Gukkie, that going into there is not going to change a thing. Why do you even want to go through there? What will you discover? You know for a fact that you know everything about the situation with Junhong, what else is there to know?" She stared him down with sympathetic eyes. "Bang Yong Guk. I'm your mother, I know you. You're just trying to find another excuse for you to be with him. You've done your job, you've done enough, my son." Yongguk ignored her, knowing that she only spoke of truth. "Yongguk! This is the last time I'm going to talk to you, so please listen to me!" She was desperate now.

"Good." He turned to his mother once more. "The dead don't come back."

And then, she was gone.

Yongguk had no time to hesitate, throwing back any feeling of regret he had from being so rude to his mother before they parted for the very last time. After all, she wasn't real.

There was a small crack in the opening he had created, there in between two layers of plaster was an envelope. He wasn't sure if it was purposely placed there or was just lost in a rush of events. Slowly, Yongguk pulled out the crumpled paper from the wall. There was not a seal on the envelope so he looked inside without having the hanging feeling of intrusion. After all, it was now his house.

Inside the envelope was two pictures, new and glossy, as if they had never been opened or touched. The shiny paper, free from finger prints, had a couple on it. A new couple, young and fresh faced. They had a baby with them, a familiar baby to Yongguk, but the eyes were unfamiliar. They were happy. Shuffling the images, he noticed that the other image was identical to the previous. This time, the picture had been gouged at with scissors. The couple remained, happy as ever and madly in love. This time, there was no baby. A perfect life.

Zelo.

Without further ado, Yongguk entered, throwing the photographs to the ground. This new room seemed identical to the other. If anything, this room must have once belonged to the other, now sectioned off by this false wall. The first thing he noticed was the stench. The odour of perspiration was revolting and did not have an origin, it was an overall smell. The wallpaper was slowly crumbling, a row of memories creating a picture. To the left wall, the wallpaper was flawless, perfect and looked freshly applied. As Yongguk's eyes travelled to the other side, the condition deteriorated. The wallpaper began to peel and Yongguk could picture a certain boy clawing at it.

At a certain point, both on the floor and walls, there was two liquid substances that had dried, becoming one with the structure. One was obvious, brown, black and red liquid was present. Blood. The other, was white. Yongguk knew what it was, but he didn't want to believe it. His stomach churned and his mouth was suddenly acidic.

Yongguk stumbled, intoxicated from the acidic substance sloshing around inside him, and went to open the balcony door in front of him. The wind had dropped dead. Not a soul was in at least a miles distance. Silence. Dead. Beside the doorframe leading outside, Yongguk's hand caressed against a lightswitch. Lights exploded to life outside, showing the greenery below the house, along with a slight hill. This house was on the top of a hill, it used to be on a list to be demolished before the previous owners had refurbished it. Yongguk's eyes trailed down to the hill. There was a train of red, dried and dyed, creating a pathway down the hill. 

"Police officials state that they have new leads on the mysterious death of a local family man. A boy was identified to be the son and is now being searched for by the officers. Mr. Choi died from-"

Yongguk gulped, unsuccessfully forcing down a lump in his throat and looked back into that room.

"For a while after, Junhong experienced that night many times over. Sometimes he couldn't walk. Junhong stopped going to school because of teachers being nosy. He couldn't even remember how to multiply or divide two simple numbers. Every day he just sat there, remembering the feeling many times over. It was awful."

He shuddered and looked back into the night sky, hoping for the stars to grant a wish. The stars shine for all of us, the stars lie for us.

"Junhong had to leave, he had no choice. He put on his clothes quickly, but he was caught. His dad dragged him out to the balcony and threatened that he'd never see the light of day again. Junhong could feel the pain from the healing wounds open again, so in reflex, he pushed his dad away from him, wishing he would just leave. Hyung, do you believe in angels granting wishes? I do."

Yongguk leaned over the side and vomited violently over the side, the liquid mixing with the dried blood trail.