A family living in the house next door used to be a happy family. But for some reason, since a few years ago, the sound of commotion has been heard frequently coming from there. Sometimes, there's the sound of breaking objects and even loud bangs. Although the commotion can be heard outside the house and several people know about it, no one dares to intervene.
Well, that's understandable. As outsiders, we only see and hear what's visible. If we investigate further, the problem will only escalate and possibly even get out of hand.
And sometimes, what worries me most is the condition of their son. With all this commotion, is he okay? I used to hear the sound of a small child crying coming from there. But slowly, the sound has faded. I just hope they haven't hurt their son.
Every morning, I always stay outside the house, pretending to be doing something. I do this to watch their son go to school.
He's a good boy. When he sees me, he smiles and bows his head to greet me. I always observe him as he goes to and from school. I've never seen any wounds or anything else on his face or arms. Because he was wearing trousers, I couldn't tell if he had injured his leg.
I really wanted to ask, but I was afraid my actions would be misinterpreted by his parents and end up getting him in trouble. So, I could only observe from a distance, always hoping nothing bad would happen to him.
But that day, I heard the commotion coming from his house again. When I looked outside, I saw his mother leaving with a suitcase. The boy hadn't even returned from school yet. Was she planning to leave him? And when he got home from school, I saw bandages on both of his hands and even on his face. So I went out and asked him.
"Son, why are you hurt?"
"I-it's because I fell."
I was quite shocked by what he said. Did I expect him to be honest with me and say his parents beat him?
"Is-is that so? Be careful next time."
"Yes, uncle."
I was the worst. The boy went inside. I was at a loss for what to do. Just as he entered, it suddenly started to rain heavily. I could only keep an eye on him.
After that, there was no sound from his house. And even the next morning, the child didn't go to school. And the next. I was very worried because I didn't hear anything. The house seemed quiet, too. Had they left? But when? Maybe in the middle of the night?
Then the next day, I went back, just before noon. I hesitated to knock on the door. I tried to work up the courage. Just as I was about to knock, someone approached me.
"Excuse me, who are you?" A woman in neat clothes.
"I'm his neighbor. Excuse me, but who are you?" I'd never seen her before.
"Oh, excuse me, I'm the teacher of the child who lives here."
"Teacher? Excuse me, but why are you here?"
"He hasn't been to school for three days. The last time I saw him, he was injured."
"I'm worried that his injury might have gotten worse."
"Injured? What's the matter?"
"He said he fell down the stairs."
That's odd. The house doesn't even have two stories, so which stairway did he fall on?
"Then I'll knock."
When I knocked carefully, no one opened the door. Didn't anyone hear it? So I tried knocking harder. The door pushed open slightly.
"Wasn't the door closed properly? That's pretty careless," the teacher responded.
Curious, I opened the door.
"Excuse me? Is anyone home?" No one answered.
Sensing something strange, the two of us entered the house. The first sight we saw was a house in disarray, like a wreck.
"Why is this happening?"
We cautiously walked through the open rooms. No one was there. Then I arrived at a locked door. Why was it locked? It was rude, but for some reason, my heart felt something was off. I forced the door open.
"Ah, what are you doing?" The teacher was shocked.
"I'm sorry, but please don't stop me."
With all my strength, I pushed the door open. Finally, it opened. It seemed to be a bedroom. Come to think of it, I hadn't seen the child's room.
As I was about to step inside, I was so shocked that my body went stiff. I couldn't take another step and fell to my knees. The teacher, who saw me, approached me and asked what was happening.
When the teacher also looked into the room, she was initially silent. Then she screamed hysterically and cried. The teacher looked panicked and immediately called the police and an ambulance.
I tried to stand up and approach the sprawled body. I lifted it into my lap. The small, frail body felt extremely cold. There was no breath or heartbeat. I saw that its entire body was covered in black bruises.
I hugged the small body and cried hysterically.
Why? Why had I been watching over it all this time? If it had been such a terrible experience for it.
Why hadn't I done anything then?
Even though that day I still saw it smiling at me.
"If only I had prevented it from coming home that day..."
"I, I'm the worst."
The teacher had already called the police and an ambulance, hysterical.
"Th-they, they'll be here soon." The teacher couldn't even bear to look. What had he done wrong to deserve this?
Sirens sounded. Medics and police officers entered the room and examined the child. The medics placed the child in a body bag and took him to the hospital for an autopsy.
The police officers searched and searched for evidence. The man and the teacher were brought in as witnesses. Several local residents also testified. Based on the evidence, testimonies, and autopsy results, the police named the parents as suspects and began a search.
"Can we bury this child? If this is because of the parents, why are we waiting for their approval?" the man asked the police officer.
"I'm sorry, but it's better if we wait until after they're found. This will avoid any problems after the child's burial."
The man was actually feeling a little annoyed.
"Okay, I understand. Please find them as soon as possible."
The police officer nodded.