I'm still alive

I'm still alive.

Many things happened at night. And I watched everything that happened at night, and lay in my seat for a long time, shivering with fear. Time passed and dawned, and only then did I come to my senses and run into the quilt and write a diary at dawn.

Everything was dark because it was dawn when the sun was not up. I was forced to hold a flashlight in my mouth and grab a pen and a diary. I put as much bed as I could to keep the light from leaking out. Yesterday I decided to save my flashlight battery, but I was not confident of sitting still and waiting for the morning sun.

I still can't stop shaking. Still, I do my best to start recording. A child's cry began to come from the front apartment last night. At first, the cry, which was so small that I wondered if it was a hallucination, began to grow louder, and soon came to the Goshiwon where I lived.

I woke up with a startling shock at the cry, barely getting out of my nightmares. And as soon as he realized this was real, he hurriedly got up from his seat.

As soon as I got up from my seat, I quickly stuck to the window and looked outside. But the city where the dark night fell was nowhere to be seen and I eventually listened and poured all my attention into my hearing. Yeah, this is definitely the sound of a child crying is right.

Where and what does the mother do? Maybe it's something I hear around me. I was very anxious. Then he began to chew his nails, shake his hands, and look around again. The street without a street lamp stimulated my fear, and the sound of a child crying in the dark was very gloomy.

As the snow began to get used to the darkness, the outline of buildings and cars on the streets began to appear. The streets were filled with cars like a holiday highway, but there was nothing much different from the landscape seen at sunrise.

Shadows pass quickly through the cars. I had a vain hope that it might be human, but abnormally fast speed, unsteady arms and legs, and strange groans were telling me they were not human.

And they were running aimlessly toward an apartment that was apparently heard.

They respond to a child crying. Then it responds to sound. 102 dong? 101 dong? There was no sound as loud as a child's cry in this dark, quiet city. At the loud sound of the loud noise, they were running towards the place so precisely.

Unconsciously, I wiped my face with my shirt several times because of cold sweat. Then I stood there blankly for about 10 minutes and watched them move. I was standing on the bed, but my legs trembled, and my throat was dry without rest. But I couldn't leave in fear. And desperately kept the position as if possessed by something.

I wondered if they would come here. I watched other people's crisis in horror, and I couldn't even blink for a while. They flocked to the apartment like waves and gathered exactly 102 dongs below the sound of a child crying.

And they began to wail with an unpleasant groan, as if they were sure the sound was coming from 102 dongs. The howling was resonating under the apartment, as if in their own ritual of praying before delicious food. Curses are coming out. I prayed and prayed for the child to stop crying.

I don't know why I did that, but I was stamping on the spot worrying about the child. Are they stuck in a single room and starving for three days without eating anything? Did this window look like a TV?

It was a stupid act to stand there and watch everything. I should have rather not seen the scene, and, as always, I should have been stuck in a corner and terrified. As time passed, a woman's scream came along with a child's cry.

The screams of terror and loud shouts spread to this faraway place. I closed my eyes tightly because my emotions assimilated with the screamer. The fear that a woman feels is conveyed. I could see only one ray of light in the apartment when I focused and listened to the scream.

11th floor of the 102nd wing (second veranda from the left).This is clear. There was something that was holding what was supposed to be a flashlight that ran out to the veranda, and when I focused my attention and looked there for a while, I could see that it was a woman who was holding the flashlight.

The woman was holding something. And as the woman came out of the veranda, the cry of the child came louder. What that woman was holding was clearly a crying child.

I could not see her expression from afar. But I could feel her pale face and feelings in front of despair even though I couldn't see it. She lingered for a long time on the veranda, constantly peeping into the house. They seemed to have come up to the 11th floor after hearing the cry.

I could feel her urgent gesture. She waved her flashlight on the veranda and asked for help loudly. Help me, please. Please let me live. Here. Please save me. I see her, but she doesn't see me.

Still, it seemed as if she was standing in front of me asking for help. Please save me. Save me and the kid from here. She constantly asked for help from an uninhabited rescue team. I shut my mouth and buried my face in the window frame.

I think the woman was crying. And the screams mixed with cries did not stop. After a while, she screamed desperately and was at her wits' end as they tried to infiltrate.

And I could see holding on to the door of the veranda so fragile. The dull sound of destruction from the hinges began to be heard all the way here. Thinking that the front door would break soon, I stomped like her and screamed silently.

My lips were salty. Maybe I shed tears.

The louder the banging grew, the more anxious she felt. She wandered around the veranda frantically looking for a way out, and screamed one after another. Still things didn't get any better, and she continued her futile moves.

A terrible sound came through. Shadows cast over dozens of holes in the veranda window with the sound of the hinges being torn. The woman who found it, and I suddenly stopped moving.

Now it was the end.

The woman staggers up and throws the child out of the veranda. And like following the child, he threw himself without hesitation. The sound of pork falling on the floor that they wanted hit my eardrum. That was the end of her and her child.

And they swarmed frantically under the apartment looking for meat scraps that had fallen on the floor, and began a delicious meal, chewing on the breathless child and mother. Would he have died without pain? At that moment, I had a bad stomach and I threw up on the spot.

I didn't eat anything, so only watery liquid came out and only my stomach was sore. I raised my trembling hand, spitting out my stomach fluid and saliva. And managed to close the window.

My mind was hazy. It was a sight worse than any other death. I couldn't look out the window anymore, and I sat on the bed. And whether the vomit I spit out was on my clothes or not, I lay down on the bed with my eyes tightly closed.

I lay in bed for a long time, covered in a blanket. I recalled the scene constantly, perhaps shaking with strength. A small meat fell on the floor and then a big one fell on the floor. And swarms of assholes trying to eat it come frantically.

I remember the sound of a person falling to the floor, and the sound of someone kicking the floor to eat it, so vivid that I remember it. I burst into tears and closed my ears with both hands.

I couldn't sleep. The dregs of mud, a mixture of fear and fear, make my stomach swell. Do I feel guilty? Why? What could I have done in that situation? I just had to sit on the sidelines staring at the scene.

I kicked the quilt out of my seat. I felt like I was going crazy if I didn't talk to someone. I locked myself in a cage and opened my diary once again. When I turned on the flashlight with trembling hands, a bright light came out and shone in my diary.

I tried to turn on the flashlight under the pretext of my diary, but I didn't feel any better at all. Contrary to the bright light from the flashlight, my mind was slowly rotting. I stared blankly at my diary for a while. Is my end different from that one? No matter how hard I think about it, I couldn't get the answer.

[The diary was a little crumpled.]