#soar memory

Despite being older, Doyoung wasn’t the stereotypical ‘older brother monster’. I think that’s why we got along so well. He would never dream of hurting me. Not in any way. When I told my psychiatrists that, they didn’t believe me. ‘An older brother who never once tormented his little sister?’ They said someone like that couldn’t exist. But Doyoung was different. He wouldn’t hurt a fly. His bedroom door was always open whenever I needed someone to talk to. He’d let me lie on his floor and listen to his music records while he did his homework. I felt like the luckiest girl in the world.

Growing up in a small town in the middle of Kwangya Island, we only became closer. Maybe it was because of our family situation that we both felt like we needed each other. Our father was an alcoholic. He’d come home drunk and take all his anger out on us. But Doyoung never let him get to me. He’d let me sleep in his bed most nights so I wouldn’t have to lie awake, alone, listening to our parents fighting through the thin bedroom walls.

Our mother was a saint. She was one of the only people I could turn to for help, one of the few who truly understood the pain, besides Doyoung. Sadly, she died when I was thirteen. The autopsy showed that Mom had overdosed on painkillers. They ruled it as accidental, but I was never sure. After she was gone, our father only got worse. Things became so unbearable that the moment Doyoung graduated high school, he moved into an apartment on the other side of town and took me with him. Our father barely protested. I’m pretty sure he never wanted kids in the first place.

From then on, it was just Doyoung and me against the world. He enrolled at the local community college and worked part-time at a grocery store. It wasn’t glamorous, but it put food on the table. We made it work. We were finally away from our broken home, and just having each other was enough.

That’s when we made the biggest mistake of our lives. We didn’t know it at the time, of course, but to this day, I still regret picking up that phone.

It was the end of summer, around 2027. The winds were brisk as early September approached. Doyoung and I had been on our own for about two years by then. I was 17, he was 27. I remember sitting at the kitchen table, finishing my homework, while Doyoung was fixing frozen chicken as dinner from our favourite TV channel.

When Doyoung’s phone rang in the living room, I jumped up to answer it.

“Hello?” I said into the receiver.

It was Mark Lee, Doyoung’s best friend from high school. The two of them had been inseparable until college sent them in different directions. Mark had ended up in NCity Varsity, and I could hear the longing in his voice as he caught up with me for a moment. Then he turned serious. “Hey, let me talk to your brother real quick,” Mark said. “I’ve got some news I think he’ll like.”

I rolled my eyes playfully and handed the phone to Doyoung. I could hear him laughing as he caught up with Mark. They were on the phone for a good hour. By the time Doyoung returned, I had already taken the dinners out of the oven and finished mine.

“Hey, sorry about that, Y/n,” Doyoung said, smiling softly as he sat down across from me. “You’ll never believe what Mark’s been up to.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Is he on Neo Varsity’s Most Wanted already?”

Doyoung rolled his eyes. “No, but he might as well be. His neighbours are going to Bermuda for Labor Day weekend, and he’s throwing a monster party in their house while they’re gone. He’s invited us to come and crash it. Can you believe that?”

He chuckled, taking a bite of his frozen chicken.

I should’ve known then that we shouldn’t go. It was illegal—breaking into someone’s house to throw a party? I knew it was wrong. But I was 17, naïve, and desperate to be just as legendary as my big brother. So, of course, I agreed.

We planned to drive to Mark’s house in Neo City. It would take about a day from Kwangya Island. But we were too excited to care. We spent the long car ride blasting out Exo’s music on the radio and singing the lyrics way off-key- well… I sang off key, Doyoung was perfect.

That was definitely one of the best times of my life. I felt completely content. We had no idea what was coming. Little did I know the terror we’d be thrown into later that night.

If I could, I would’ve made Doyoung turn the car around or drive us straight off a cliff.

We’d been in the car for about 13 hours straight, not counting the endless gas stops and bathroom breaks. Around 9h00 p.m., we noticed we were deep in a nowhere land. The GPS map said we were still in Neo Tech Road, but it didn’t feel like it.

“You sure we’re not lost?” I asked, chewing my bubblegum slower in stress.

Doyoung kept his eyes fixed on the road and nodded. “Of course not. Mark gave me the directions himself.”

I rolled my eyes and blew a bubble.

We drove through nothing but trees for what felt like another hour before I finally declared we were lost. My brother had this idea that Mark was some kind of genius, but I knew better. It was Mark after all. Doyoung was getting tired. I was getting restless. I’d been sitting in the same position for so long I could barely feel my legs.

“Can we please pull over somewhere?” I whined, my gum starting to lose its flavor.

“Don’t you think I would’ve done that about two hours ago?” Doyoung replied, stifling a cough.

That cough turned into a slight wheeze, which made my ears perk up. “Are you okay?” I asked, concern quickly filling my voice.

He nodded and brushed it off, saying it was just a tickle in his throat. Usually, I wouldn’t have thought twice about it, but that night, I was on high alert. Doyoung had really bad asthma. We’d had more than a few close calls, and the thought of losing him scared me more than the empty road in front of us.

About 30 minutes later, Doyoung began to grumble under his breath. “That jackass had no idea what he was talking about.”

I didn’t respond. I knew he couldn’t admit that I was right. But I was starting to feel really uncomfortable. It had been two hours of nothing but trees, and we’d only seen a few cars pass every 50 miles or so. I didn’t want to say it out loud, but once I swallowed my bubblegum, I was scared for many reasons. Where were we even going to sleep? The idea of pulling over and sleeping on the side of the road creeped me out.

We were starving, too. At one point, Doyoung asked me to check the map to see if there were any rest stops or motels nearby. There weren’t. The GPS woman was just as lost – reflecting nothing but an empty road for miles.

But that all changed around 23h30 p.m. Doyoung was practically falling asleep at the wheel when my eyes landed on a tiny speck on our the GPS map on the screen.

“Doyoung, get up!” I shook him, excitement rising in my voice. “There’s a restaurant coming up in about 20 miles!”

His eyes popped open. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, it’s called Red’s Cafe & Family Restaurant. There should be an exit coming up.”

I couldn’t believe our luck. It did strike me as odd that it was the only rest stop for hundreds of miles, but honestly? I was too hungry to care. I gave Doyoung directions, even though there were no signs in the pitch-black woods. Still, I could feel that we were getting close. Soon, Doyoung turned out of the highway and there it was…

I can still see the neon sign and the bright, bustling lights.

“Red’s Cafe” looked like your typical 2000’s cyber-tech meets 1950’s-style diner. A small building with large glass windows, easy to see into. I could make out a few people inside, sitting and eating.

Doyoung parked along the dirt road, and I jumped out of the car, desperate to stretch my legs. It was colder than I expected for September, so I pulled my sweatshirt over my head as Doyoung buttoned up his jacket. The scent of coffee and homemade pie drifted out through the sliding glass doors.

As we walked toward the building, I glanced up at the sign again. There was another part to it I hadn’t noticed earlier… it flickered under the moonlight:

“Red’s Care & Family Restaurant — Motel on the East Side.”

“I guess you could spend the night here too if you wanted,” Doyoung smirked. I smiled. At least we wouldn’t be sleeping in the car.

When we stepped inside, the place was alive with activity.

The floor was checkered, the red vinyl booths nearly all filled. A few rugged-looking men sat at the counter, sipping steaming coffee. A woman and her young daughter giggled over a plate of pancakes. A group of teenagers in leather jackets huddled around the jukebox- one of them slipped in a coin, and an old Shinee’s tune started to play. “Baby-”

Then, out of nowhere, this unexplainable dread washed over me. It wasn’t the song that made me feel uneasy… but the atmosphere. It was heavy. And I couldn’t shake it. I felt… heavy.

I didn’t even notice the woman approach us.

“Can I help you kids?” She asked, her voice as soft as butter.

I looked up into the kind, dark eyes of a young looking woman. She wore a red wool dress lightly clinging to her body and ending over her knees, with matching shoes, and a white apron draped over her front. Her face was crafted and pampered with such soft makeup, her slick black hair gleaming under the lights. She smiled warmly. But I couldn’t speak. I don’t know why, I just couldn’t open my mouth.

“Uh, yes ma’am,” Doyoung said with his usual gentlemanly charm. “We’d just like a quick bite to eat before we hit the road again.”

He nudged me gently in the back. I nodded.

“Well, come on in then. I’m Irene, Bae Irene. Welcome to my humble little restaurant.”

She laughed. It was lighthearted and contagious, full of age and years. But somehow… it made me uncomfortable.

Doyoung chuckled, reaching out to shake her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Irene. I’m Kim Doyoung and this is my sister, Y/n.”

I forced a smile and shook her hand too. She looked perfect, like someone’s sweet young trad wife… but something about her made my skin crawl.

I always got that way around people I didn’t know. “Y/n. That’s such a lovely name,” Irene said, eyes lingering on me way more than I’d like to admit. I managed a weak smile as she let out another warm laugh. “Well, I don’t want to see you kids just standing around. Come on, I’ll find you a booth.”

Doyoung and Irene were soon chatting up a storm, walking ahead together. I trailed behind, pretending not to notice. As we made our way through the diner, I learned that Irene and her husband, Jaehyun, had opened the place a few years ago after retiring from the busy Neo City. She worked as the hostess; he was the cook. They never had children, which is why Irene enjoyed it so much when young people came in. The way she spoke, she made it seem like she was pushing 60, but when she said she’s 40, I was shocked. She looked… so young.

Doyoung was always polite. He laughed at her jokes and even told her a bit of our sob story. I just wanted him to stop talking- and she serves the food and then we leave. I did not feel comfortable here. But when she found out we didn’t really have any parents, her face changed, almost like it gave her some kind of purpose.

“Oh, you poor things. Well, why don’t you scan the QR menu with your phones so that I can make you guys something quick to eat,”

“Unfortunately our phones died, they’re in the car.” Doyoung explained. Irene clutched her heart sadly.

“Oh you poor things, driving out for hours. You know what, consider me your mother for the night,” She said sweetly, quickly walking to an isle passage and then coming back with our menus.

I slid into the booth across from my brother, trying to smile as Irene walked away. Doyoung chuckled and thanked her again, opening his menu with a grin.

“Isn’t she just the sweetest woman you’ve ever met?” He beamed, his light black bangs falling over his eyes.

I didn’t answer. Instead, I slouched down in my seat, not even bothering to look at the menu. My eyes drifted across the room. I watched the teenagers by the futurist jukebox sipping Coke straight from glass bottles, chatting and laughing. I saw the little girl from earlier get up and ask Irene for a napkin and Irene hugged her like she was her own daughter.

I almost gagged.

“What’s the matter? Are you feeling okay?” Doyoung asked, sensing my mood.

I nodded but didn’t say a word when he asked what I wanted to eat. I got the feeling that he could sense my hostile attitude. I knew I was getting on his nerves, but honestly, I didn’t care. When Irene came to take our order, I kept quiet. Doyoung ordered pancakes and some pizza and hot chocolate for both of us, flashing her a warm smile.

As she walked away, he turned back to me, visibly annoyed. “What’s your deal tonight, Y/n? You’re acting like a little kid,” He grumbled.

I bit the inside of my cheek and muttered, “Don’t you feel a little uncomfortable around her?”

Doyoung raised an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”

“Mrs. Bae Irene isn’t giving off good vibes. Don’t you feel it? She’s weird. ‘Consider me your mother for the night’? What was that about?” I didn’t understand how he couldn’t see it.

“She’s just being nice,” Doyoung shot back. “God, stop being so stuck up and try to appreciate what she’s doing for us.” I figured he was just tired and hungry.

He coughed into the crook of his arm again. I rolled my eyes and stayed silent for the rest of the meal. I wish I hadn’t. I didn’t know then that this would be one of the last moments I’d ever share with my brother.

When the food arrived, Doyoung thanked Irene for both of us. I was starving, but I didn’t want to eat. I just poked at my pancakes and stared down at my shoes. Doyoung pretended not to notice. We rarely fought… actually, we never fought. This was just one of our rare squabbles. Doyoung was always patient, always gentle. He took care of me like no one else did.

But I wasn’t easy. I was stubborn, distant with everyone who wasn’t him. I had trust issues from growing up in a house where I never felt safe. I often came off cold, and my brother was usually the one who pulled me out of it… but even he had limits. And tonight, I seemed to be pushing it.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” I said, breaking half an hour of silence.

Doyoung just nodded, sipping his drink. I slid out of the booth and headed to the back. I locked myself in a stall and leaned against the wall, needing space. Needing time to breathe. I’m not sure how long I stayed in there. I just knew I needed to be alone with my thoughts.

When I finally returned to the table, Doyoung was deep in conversation with… Irene… and another man. Attractive looking man… who I assumed was her husband, Jaehyun. He was a large man with luscious hair, and an apron that hung over his baggy pants and faded flannel shirt. He was also perfect, as if he didn’t age over 30- but after what Irene said, that she’s 40, I could only imagine he was either in his late 40’s or early 50’s. Still, they all laughed together, Doyoung pausing now and then to cough.

I approached the table quietly. Doyoung looked up and smiled. “Well, speak of the devil,” He joked, motioning for me to join him.

I sat next to him when he patted the spot. Maybe he had forgiven me, or maybe he was just putting on a show for the Jung’s. I didn’t care I clung to him tightly.

“So, I’ve been wondering,” Irene said, her smile growing wider. “What brought you kids all the way up here? We don’t get many visitors out this way.”

“We’re driving to Neo Ciity to visit some old friends,” Doyoung replied. “I’m just glad we found this place, we were driving through nothing but forest for nearly three hours.”

Irene glanced at Jaehyun. He blinked slowly. For a moment, neither of them said anything as if they were deciding what to say next. I clenched Doyoung’s jeans in my fist.

“Well,” Jaehyun finally said with a chuckle, “We are a bit in the middle of nowhere, I guess.”

I turned toward the window, staring at the truck parked outside as the three of them continued to talk. I was so lost in the pitch-black night that I barely heard Doyoung speak at first.

"Well, we'd really like to thank you folks for your kind hospitality. How much do I owe you?" He asked, reaching into his pocket for his wallet.

Irene shook her head. "No, it's on the house."

When my brother tried to protest, she gently put a finger to his lips. He smiled in gratitude and stood to leave. I carefully slid off and was just about to reach for the door when Jaehyun stepped in front of us.

"Hey now, where do you kids think you're going? You can’t drive out now, it’s nearly two in the morning."

I wouldn’t have known. There were no clocks or any real sense of time in the diner. The outside world felt distant, almost unreal. I glanced nervously at Doyoung, trying to signal him to keep moving. He just yawned in response.

"You two look like you’ve been on the road all day," Jaehyun continued. "Doesn’t seem wise to be driving when you’re this tired. Come on, we’ve got a nice little motel out back. You can rest until morning."

I froze. There was no way I was spending another second with these people.

“That’s all right,” I tried to object. “We’ll be fine.”

But my brother hesitated. “I don’t know, Y/n,” He said, his voice heavy with exhaustion. “I’m really tired, and you’re still underage. I don’t want to put our lives at risk by falling asleep at the wheel.”

I shook my head and reached for his hand, trying to pull him toward the door. But he was stronger. I felt myself being gently tugged back onto the checkered floor.

“Doyoung,” I said, my voice rising in panic. “Please.”

He ignored me, walking back to Irene.

“I think we’ll take a room for the night,” He said, smiling. Then he added quietly, pushing me behind him, “Just to be safe.”

Irene beamed and winked at her husband. “Wonderful. Jaehyun will show you to the back. If you give me your car keys, I’ll fetch your luggage, if you brought any.”

My mouth went dry as I watched Doyoung pull his keys from his back pocket and explain where our suitcases were packed in the trunk. I couldn’t believe it. I was close to tears. I grabbed the back of his jacket as Irene walked out the front door, but he gently brushed me off.

I trailed behind them hopelessly as Jaehyun led us into a smaller building just across from the diner. It was made entirely of logs. Jaehyun and Doyoung were talking easily, like old friends, while I stayed silent.

Jaehyun pulled a key from his coat pocket and quietly opened the door.

The inside of the motel was depressing. Everything was made of wood, the walls covered in old, faded portraits of kpop idols advertising safety and dreamscape mountain landscapes. A maroon oriental rug lay under the front desk. On the counter sat a guest book, a potted cactus, and a vintage-looking handbell. A cold draft swept through the space, and I shivered. It looked like the place hadn’t had a guest in years.

“Well, here we are,” Jaehyun said. “No need to sign in. I’ll take you up to your room.”

He smiled again, and in the light, I could see just how dark his under eyes were.

He led us up a creaky wooden staircase on the right side of the lobby. I felt like the painted eyes in the portraits followed us as we ascended. The hallway above was dim, lit only by a few moth-covered wall lamps. It stretched long in both directions, lined with wooden doors on either side. Everything was coated in a fine layer of dust.

The musty air stirred up a fresh bout of wheezing from Doyoung, who tried to stifle it in his sleeve. I rolled my eyes. He had gotten us into this. I had no sympathy.

“Ah, here we are,” Jaehyun said finally, stopping in front of Room 2B. He slid the key into the lock and pushed the door open.

Inside were two twin beds with thick quilted blankets and feather-stuffed pillows. A large window stretched across one wall above a small desk. The room was silent, still, and strangely untouched like no one had ever stayed in it before. Underneath the rug, the carpet was a rusty maroon. The wallpaper was a neat beige filled with more dreamscape paintings, mountains and seascapes hung from flimsy nails, sagging on the walls. I swallowed hard.

Jaehyun leaned over me, placing a his hand on the light switch above my head. The room didn’t look any better once it was lit. An eerie yellow-orange glow flooded the space, making everything look more unsettling than before.

“It looks very… homey. Thanks a lot, Jaehyun,” Doyoung said with a polite smile.

The two of them shook hands. I slowly stepped farther inside and sank onto one of the twin beds. The mattress was so soft, I practically disappeared into it. Distantly, I heard Jaehyun explaining where the bathroom was and what time breakfast would be served. I watched in silence as Irene returned with our luggage, humming softly to herself.

I must have zoned out longer than I realized, because the next thing I knew, the door was closed and Doyoung was unpacking our suitcases.

“We shouldn’t be here,” I said quietly, the first words I’d spoken in what felt like forever. The room felt like it was shrinking.

Doyoung didn’t respond. He simply tossed me my pajamas.

“What are you going to tell Mark? We were supposed to be at his house tonight.”

Doyoung let out a long, tired sigh, the kind of sigh that sounded like it carried the weight of the world. I knew I was difficult. I always had been. I required more patience than most people had. If Doyoung hadn’t rescued me from our father, I probably would’ve ended up strung out somewhere, forgotten. I understood why he was tired… tired of looking after me, tired of always being the one holding things together.

Sensing my unease, Doyoung walked over slowly and sat beside me on the bed. He wrapped an arm around my shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.

We didn’t say anything. There was nothing left to say. Nothing he could say would ease the tension crawling under my skin.

He rested his chin on my shoulder, and I listened to the rasp in his breathing. It always sounded worse when he was exhausted.

“We’re going to be okay, Y/n. You just need to sleep,” He whispered.

Then he kissed my cheek and returned to his side of the room. We faced away from each other as we got undressed and changed into our pajamas. I reluctantly slipped beneath the blanket and stiff, ice-cold sheets.

I laid there, wide awake, staring at the dirty ceiling. I couldn’t sleep. I didn’t even try. For what felt like hours, I just listened to Doyoung’s breathing.

There had been many times in my life when I felt like no one really listened to me. This was one of them. I just wish someone had. Maybe things would’ve turned out differently.

I don’t know what time it was when I finally drifted off, but I must have because Doyoung’s movement is what woke me.

I heard him throw his quilt aside in a hurry. His breathing was ragged. Then came the sound of his suitcase being unzipped, clothes rustling in frantic hands.

“Do?” I whispered into the darkness. “Are you okay?”

No response.

I heard more rustling, more frantic searching. Eventually, he seemed to find what he was looking for… his inhaler and rushed toward the door.

“I’m fine,” He gasped. “Just need some fresh air.”

Light flooded into the room as he stepped into the hallway, quietly closing the door behind him.

He’d had asthma attacks before. I’d seen them many times. Each one left me feeling helpless. There was nothing I could do except watch him fight for air, my heart breaking a little more each time. I wanted to follow him that night. I don’t know why I didn’t.

But I wish I had.

He was gone for twenty minutes before I finally decided to check on him. Usually, it took him a little while to calm down, and I wanted to sit with him to rub his back the way our mother used to when he was younger. It always helped. I wanted to do for him what he’d done for me for years… he always cared. I even wanted to tell him that the Red’s Café wasn’t that bad and that maybe I was overreacting…

But when I opened the door… Doyoung wasn’t there.

My feet were freezing against the cold floor of the hallway. I rubbed my arms as goosebumps formed on my pale skin. Panic was starting to rise in my throat. I glanced across the hall, hoping maybe Doyoung had gone to the bathroom… but it was empty.

There weren’t many places he could have gone.

Quietly, I returned to our room and slipped on a pair of fuzzy slippers. Then I crept down the hallway and hurried down the staircase, each step making the old wood groan beneath me.

The lobby was empty.

I felt the sting in my throat as I choked back a sob. I turned back toward the stairs, tears welling in my eyes.

There’s no worse feeling than being completely alone in a place you don’t know. It’s even worse when the only person who’s ever made you feel safe… isn’t there.

One of the hallway lamps above me flickered. The light buzzed softly as my tears began to fall freely. My mind was spinning with terrifying possibilities. Where could he have gone? What could’ve happened?

I was so caught up in my panic, I didn’t see what I tripped over.

I hit the floor hard, landing face-first on the rough oriental carpet. My cheek burned from the impact as I rolled over, trying to breathe through the shock.

That’s when I saw it.

Lying just outside the door to our room was Doyoung’s inhaler.

My eyes widened in horror.

Doyoung would never leave this behind… not by choice. And he wouldn't drop it by accident, not unless something was very, very wrong.

That was the moment I knew that wherever he had gone… he hadn’t gone willingly.

A sob tore its way from my chest as I curled into a fetal position, trying to stop the overwhelming flood of fear crashing over me. My thoughts were spiraling, loud and chaotic, pounding inside my skull like a war drum.

I reached out with a trembling hand and picked up the inhaler. The plastic felt warm in my palm, as if it had just been used. I stared at it for a long moment before I forced myself to stand.

I had to find my brother.

We needed to get out of here.

I didn’t care if he wanted to stay after I found him- we were leaving. We’d get in the car and drive far away from this nightmare of a place and never look back.

I raced back into our room and snatched the car keys from the bedside table. I didn’t bother packing. I didn’t care about the luggage. Doyoung was all that mattered.

Tiptoeing down the stairs, the wooden steps creaked loudly beneath my feet. I flinched with each sound, as if the house itself were waking up. I reached the door and pushed it open, slipping outside into the chilly night.

The lights were still on inside the diner. A weak comfort.

I ran as fast as I could toward it, barely noticing the gnarled trees looming overhead, their branches like claws reaching out to grab me. I made it to the back door of the diner, prepared to pound on it until my knuckles bled—

But… it opened almost immediately after one push. Right away, I spotted Doyoung’s truck parked just beyond the clear glass windows. It looked so close, yet somehow impossibly far away. I had no idea how much adrenaline was rushing through my veins at that moment, but it took every ounce of willpower I had not to sprint straight to it. The diner was empty… no customers in sight, just me..

Then, behind me, the sharp clang of a metal object hitting the tiled floor froze me in place. I spun around so fast my neck cracked. The kitchen doors stood closed, locked tight when I tried to pry one open- I kicked at it with all my strength, ignoring the dull ache forming in my bruising toes.

I whisper yelled into the hollow space, begging for anyone… anyone— to hear me. It felt like hours had passed, but I was still trapped in that silent nightmare. A wave of nausea suddenly hit me hard.

Then I heard it again… the metal clatter, faint whispers drifting through the air.

I held my breath, straining to listen. Whatever it was, it was close, too close. I craned my neck, desperate to peer inside the kitchen, but the glass windows were now covered by a dark sheet of curtain — something that definitely hadn’t been there before.

My heart pounding, I slipped behind the counter and pressed my ear against the grimy wall.

Silence. Then… soft, dragging footsteps on tiled floors.

I don’t know what made me act next… whether it was adrenaline, fear, or utter hopelessness but I grabbed a fork from beneath a napkin on the counter, my palms slick with sweat.

I knew I wasn’t alone.

With trembling hands, I jabbed the fork against the glass. But nothing happened. I did it again. Nothing. Again, and again. After what felt like an eternity, thin cracks spiderwebbed across the surface. I kept banging until the glass shattered at my feet.

I didn’t flinch.

Pulling back the curtain, I braced myself for what awaited me inside the kitchen. A powerful, sickening smell of burning flesh hit my nose. I started coughing and gagging, struggling to breathe. Smoke filled the room, swirling everywhere. My eyes watered, and I waved my arms trying to clear the air, but it was no use. The awful smell seemed to reach deep inside me, making me want to throw up.

Then, a voice spoke, “Who’s there?”

I recognized it immediately, it was the man who had taken Doyoung to that room a few hours earlier, Jaehyun.

I stayed quiet. I couldn’t see through the thick smoke at first, but gradually it cleared near the broken window. My blurry eyes adjusted to the harsh fluorescent lights.

What I saw next was something I could never have prepared for.

Jaehyun and Irene stood in the middle of the kitchen. On the table between them was a silver device, about the size of a record player.

It was the first time I really took in the room. The walls were splattered with dark red stains that trickled down in thin streams, pooling quietly on the floor. Bloody? Jaehyun held a large knife in his hand, the metal catching the light. Irene stood next to him, holding a wooden spoon covered with something that looked like long, wriggling strands, like oversized worms. I stayed quiet, my eyes then drawn to a pot on the stove, still bubbling gently.

In the corner, I noticed… my brother’s pajamas tossed into a pile.

Some strands of his soft black hair clung to the edge of the pot. I knew it was him, because in the boiling bloody pot the face turned-

My feet felt glued to the floor as the awful smell overwhelmed me. My eyes stung, and my throat felt tight… I couldn’t even cry out. Jaehyun lunged toward me, but I was quicker, and he stumbled forward, falling hard on his front face into a puddle of… Doyoung's blood.

Irene grabbed the cleaver and hurled it toward the door just as I shoved it open and dashed out. I dashed for the unlocked door! I threw myself into the truck, fumbling with the keys until they finally slid into the ignition. I saw Irene running after me, but I hit the gas and sped away. I wasn’t an experienced driver, but finding help was all that mattered.

Tears blurred my vision as the agonizing screams echoed behind me. Panic took over, and I felt myself unraveling while racing through the Neo City woods. I howled in despair, sometimes even throwing up what little I had left in my stomach. The awful smell clung to me, and the walls of the car seemed to close in. I’m sure I nearly swerved off the road several times, but I didn’t care.

They killed Doyoung. They had killed my brother and chopped him up and cooked him.

I banged my head against the steering wheel as the horn blared into the quiet night. Warm blood trickled down the side of my face, soaking into my hair. My vision began to fade, growing dark at the edges. I wasn’t sure how long I’d been driving before I spotted a car pulled over on the side of the road. A man was crouched down, checking one of his front tires. I slammed on the brakes, jumped out of the truck, and closed the door behind me. A bit of vomit stuck to the corners of my mouth.

Dried blood stained my face, tears still streaming down like a waterfall. He was an older man, his face lined with wrinkles and streaks of gray running through his dark hair. I must have startled him because he took a cautious step back, eyes wide with worry.

“You need to help me!” I cried out weakly breathing. “They killed my brother- they killed him and they- they killed him-”

I remember collapsing to my knees, howling in pain. The man tried to help me up, but I struggled, thrashing in his arms. Through my fit, I could faintly hear his panicked voice, trying to get me to respond. “Who?” He shouted over my own loud sobs. “Who killed your brother?” He asked. I shook my head quickly, struggling to catch my breath. The wind rushed past my ears as I tried to speak. The last thing I could make out were his eyes, shining in the darkness, as I managed to whisper the name of the diner through the pain. Then I collapsed onto the asphalt, and everything went black.

..

They later told me I had been unconscious for about three weeks, a coma unlike anything the doctors had ever seen. When I finally woke up, I screamed. I was screaming for Doyoung, for someone to help him, for someone to believe me.

..

To this day, no one talks about it. The little I heard, the more unbelievable everything seemed. Red’s Café & Family Restaurant was torn down in the late 2000’s, long before my brother and I ever arrived that summer night. Apparently the seemingly friendly owners trapped their victims in the motel and devoured them, bones and all. The place was shut down, barricaded, and burned to the ground. Jaehyun and Irene were sentenced to death in 2002, decades before Doyoung and I pulled up to that cursed place.

I later found out they had murdered over twenty travelers who crossed their path, including… motorcycle gangs, groups of teenagers, even a woman and her young daughter. I was only 17 then, Doyoung 27. I’m almost certain the police thought I was on drugs. I was a mess—broken, terrified. They kept telling me that Red’s Café & Family Restaurant didn’t even exist anymore.

When the man who found me finally took me to the police, I was in hysterics. I screamed at them, begging them to believe me— that those monsters had killed my brother. I don’t know how they couldn’t see it in my eyes. But all they saw was madness. They saw a scared, broken girl.

I was handcuffed and shoved into the back of a patrol car. They drove me back to the spot where Doyoung and I had turned, where the restaurant had stood just hours before. But it was gone just an empty lot. No sign. No motel. Nothing to show that anyone had ever been there.

It was like the nightmare had swallowed everything whole. And I was left alone with the memory and the loss that no one wanted to believe. Even the car that we drove- that I drove when escaping the place wasn’t there…

I tried to explain. I cried for what felt like forever. I had slept in that bed at the motel. I was trying to let them know that I slept there with my brother… and that it was real. I had sat in that final red booth where my brother and I had talked to the Jung’s as they served us. I had seen the people at the tables, smelled the food- I had been there. Yet no one believed me.

The cops had the nerve to accuse me of murdering Doyoung. What’s worse… They never found his body. His final resting place had vanished into thin air. My case was thrown out for lack of evidence.

But the years of pain never stopped.

The judge was convinced I was a danger— that I needed to be locked away. So they threw me in here. This is where I’ve been ever since the summer of 2027.

I’m a grown woman now, writing this story down as a desperate cry for help hoping that someone, somewhere, will finally believe me. “I am not insane.” I tell my psychiatrist everyday. There’s no way I could have made any of this up.

I felt it.

I lived it.

This isn’t all in my head.

But that’s what the doctors and psychiatrists have been telling me for years. Trying to convince me that it’s all just a product of my mind. Sometimes, I even wondered if maybe I had imagined it all. The medication they pump into me has turned my brain to mush.

But deep down, I know the truth. I didn’t imagine any of it.

I still have Doyoung’s inhaler. I hold it every day, never letting go. It’s the only thing I have left to remind me that my brother was real. It’s the only piece of proof I hold onto now… the one thing they can never take away from me.

As younger siblings often do, I absolutely adored my big brother, Doyoung. He will always be my big brother, and I will always be his little Y/n. But I don’t know where he is… and that’s probably what haunts me the most. Any trace, any evidence that could have brought his killers to justice, just disappeared without a trace.

I pray every day to the Lord that wherever he is now, he’s happy. Because to me, he was my savior—my protector who rescued me, cared for me, and never let anyone hurt me. Not a single day passes when I don’t think about his goofy grin, his bright eyes, and his big, loving heart.

I only wish I could have done more for him.

You won’t find anything about Red’s Café & Family Restaurant, or Kim Doyoung anywhere online. It’s as if our tragedy was meant to be forgotten… and only remembered by me…

No one like Mark even existed… And I’m feeling so… insane. How could I have imagined it all? No way. There’s no way I managed a life I never lived… I remember it all. The frozen chicken, the phone call, the drive… How could I have dreamt it all… No…

I know I’m not mad.

There is a road in the middle of Neo Tech Valley- if you take the right turn… at just the right spot… you might catch a ghostly glimpse of a diner…

Full of life and laughter even after 23h30…

Don’t go inside.

Just keep driving and don’t look back.

Apparently, it’s not real…

But if you happen to see it…

And through the window you see… a boy at the window, with mousy black hair, kind eyes, and that gentle smile…

Just could you… wave at him for me. And shout out into the night that his Y/n loves him and misses him so much.