The night was a vast, inky expanse, the highway stretching out like a ribbon of darkness ahead. A lone car cut through the night, its headlights piercing the gloom. The road sign illuminated briefly as the car sped past, reading "Semyong" — the destination of the solitary traveler within.
The song "Until the End" by Kelley McRae was blaring from the car's radio as the car cruised through the hairpin bends of the highway. There was no soul to be seen, other than the white Toyota.
It was a cold night with little to no humidity, a common winter climate. But nothing to worry about, since summer is on its way soon.
Moon Dong-eun was perched in the driver's seat since she mostly reached the roof of the car when she sat up straight. Perhaps this car was not the right one. But she didn't have much choice. The poor never have one.
She looked like any Korean woman in her mid-thirties, with a fair complexion and some forehead furrows. But no laugh lines. Her thin black hair was cut short in a bob hairstyle. Her bangs were cut short as well, showcasing her forehead a little bit. Even though it was brief, it was neatly combed and arranged in an almost perfect order, so that not even a strand escaped while driving with the window open and the air gushing in.
Her expression was stern and cold as the wind hit her face while she drove further away from another place that felt empty. There would be someone else to replace her. But home was nowhere to be found, sometimes she thought it could be the dark sky that highlighted Semyong's bright lights because it gave some comfort in its eery silence.
She drove further until the stars disappeared little by little, waving goodbye with no promise it would return the same the next night. The sun was barely visible, but the light it cast was to be seen over the tall office buildings and apartment complexes. The day dawned crisp and clear. Her mind was set.
She takes a few rights and cuts left, and after a long and wary journey, she is finally there. 'Eden apartments' was perched on the building, with each letter ample space from the other. Below the English name were the Korean transliterations written in small and illegible writing, with some other half-witted slogan welcoming the renters as their own family.
Moon Dong-eun simpered. Watch them not give rent for a month, and how they turn their backs on them. She did not search for anyone or go and check her apartment first. There are more important things on her plate. She first sat down and opened her store-bought sushi roll, messily wrapped in foil paper, and scarfed it down. There was no haste, just calculated bites.
She climbed up to the terrace, where the view could be seen. It was great compared to all the other apartments she had viewed before, but that was not what made it amazing. It was a luxury mansion that faced her. She felt an instant attachment looking at it. But no other attachment was as strong as the people inside. She smiled slightly, knowing she finally made it. It was all a matter of time now.
The wind howled, cursing her birth or warning of her death. The chirps of birds could be heard; they only seemed to be aware of themselves during the day. Or it is we humans who seem to notice them, when the rest of the world is quiet, you have no other option but to listen. Silence is a beautiful thing. It could be your murderer, isolating you with your thoughts alone, the most dangerous weapon you could wield, or the curiosity of what happens next will keep driving you mad. It could also be love, but love hasn't touched her.
The silence was interrupted by a grunt and a groan, the door flew open, and the owner barged in with some terracotta pots. She didn't seem to notice her until she looked up. Her expression barely changed from annoyed.
"Did you just move in?" she asked. Moon Dong-eun bowed and welcomed the elderly woman. "How are you today?"
"Oh. Finally, you're here now," she sighed and set her pots down. Her bones cracked when she stood up again.
"You sure took your time."
Dong-eun nodded slightly.
"Anyway, welcome," the woman plucked a flower and handed it to her. The flower was an interesting shape, erect and broad at the mouth. It was pure, milky white with spiny, curved edges. Dong-eun accepted the gift.
"This flower here is known as the Devil's Trumpet. That one there is called the Angel's Trumpet 'cause it looks like a horn facing the ground," she pointed to the pale yellow flowers, facing the earth down, unlike the Devil's trumpet, which faced the sky.
"That one is the Devil's Trumpet because it looks like a horn playing into the sky," the woman chuckled.
"Apparently, God thought they were cocky for looking up. Maybe that's the reason why you can only smell them at nighttime," she joked. There was an awkward silence between them.
Silence can be torture when you are with the wrong people. And any people can be wrong people, as long as you don't know them, they are a threat to you.
I should get going, Dong-eun thought and grabbed her single suitcase. The woman returned to her pots, squatting on the ground and removing some old pots.
"You need to shatter these kinds of pots before you can toss them," she said.
"KSSSHHHK!" The pot hit the ground with deliberate force, the sound of its shattering echoing through the room like a gunshot. Moon Dong-eun froze in her tracks, the sudden noise jolting her out of her thoughts.
In an instant, she was transported back to a different time, a time filled with loud crunches and whooshing flames. She saw it vividly in her mind's eye – the girl falling from the building, her body breaking like fragile glass as it hit the ground, the shards scattering across the floor like pieces of a shattered dream.
The memory washed over Moon like a wave, threatening to engulf her in its depths. She closed her eyes, trying to push the images away, but they lingered, haunting her like ghosts from the past.
"Ah girl, weren't you going somewhere? " the woman asked, breaking her trance.