"I'm sorry Mr. Park but... your wife didn't make it." 

The girl took tentative steps towards her father's room with a playful grin on her face. A handwritten card was hiding behind her back as well as a drawing of him. Her Bom unnie told her that she was pretty good at drawing so she had some hope that her picture came out to his liking. Her hair was still made up in a tight bun from her ballet practice from earlier. It was hard work having to do it for 3 hours almost everyday but she didn't really mind. She actually likes it. Her friends would always say that she looked pretty when she dances. The thought brought a wider smile on her face. 

Her older sister, Bom, was 2 years older than her. She's quite mature for a teenager but when it's just the two of them, her unnie gets wild and crazy just like her. She would make Dara teach her to dance while she would help her out in her studies as much as she can. Bom wasn't a 'scholastic type' kind of girl so they would just end up goofing around in the end. 

Right now the two girls were planning a 'surprise party' for their dad. Bom was busy preparing food downstairs while Dara stalled so that her sister could get done by the time they go down.

The floor creaked as she took her steps and she would close her eyes cautiously whenever it creaked too loudly. Dara grabbed on the door knob with her clammy hands and gently turned to open it. The room was dark and she initially thought that no one was there. However, the light coming from the blinds was able to make a shadow out of her dad's figure. Her dark brown eyes lit up and she skipped towards him. 

"Appa!" She said but was answered with silence. 

Her father was looking down on an old picture of a woman that looked vaguely familiar. She tilted her head and moved closer to get a better look but she was suddenly pushed to the side, making her stumble down to the ground. She landed with a thud, her eyes getting watery from how much it hurt. She rubbed her eyes dry and looked up to see him looking sternly at her, as if she did something wrong. Dara's whole body slightly trembled, uncomfortable by the sudden anger in her father's eyes. She looked down at the floor while clutching the card in her hand when his calloused hand suddenly tipped her face up. She winced in fright but then she saw the genuine concern in his eyes. She mellowed down. 

"Are you alright, Sandara? What are you doing down there on the ground? C'mon let's get you up." He gently helped his daughter up and patted her outfit clean. He flashed her a cheeky smile which made her unconsciously do one too. "What do you have there on your hands, sweetie?" he mumbled softly. 

Dara's cheeks blushed from sudden embarrassment and then handed the card meekly, trying not to meet his eyes. Dongwook smiled and patted her head lovingly before sitting back down on the bed and putting the photo back in his nightstand. 

He opened the card up and did an exaggerated gasp when he saw what was inside. The little girl hit his arm when she saw him acting a little too amazed and the young father just giggled. He read every line, word for word, but nothing seemed to process in his brain. He was merely just reading words but he couldn't get the intentions around it. Nevertheless, he was thankful and he gave her a loud smooch on the crown of her head. 

"What's this for?" he asked, still admiring the card and the drawing attached to it. 

Dara quirked a brow and jumped up on her father's lap. "It's your birthday! Did you forget?" she said almost unbelievingly. "Bom unnie said to keep you here until she's finished with cooking." the girl snickered. 

Dongwook sighed and pinched her nose, earning him a whine. "Aigoo, I'm getting too old because of these naughty girls. Do you happen to know where these naughty girls are so that I can teach them a lesson?" he grinned mischievously. 

She giggled when he started tickling her. His other hand was crawling up to her bun and then he gripped it tight. Dara was still in fits of laughter when she suddenly felt a stinging pain on her head. Her father was subtly pulling her bun, not taking to account her whimpering and squirming. She went back to being frightened when she saw him looking at her with an expressionless face. Dara tried to call out to him but it seems like he was distracted. 

Dongwook finally snapped out when she heard her crying. He quickly let go of her and took his hands back, inspecting them with widened eyes. His eyes darted back to her youngest. She was sobbing with her head bowed down and her hand on her hair. 

"I... I'm sorry. I don't know what's gotten into appa... I..." Dara continued to sob and it made him feel irritated all of the sudden. "Stop it, Sandara." he said sternly. The girl continued to hiccup. "Stop it." he warned again but when she couldn't fight her tears, he snapped. He held her shoulders tightly and made her look up at him. "When I tell you to stop crying, you stop crying. Do you understand?" Her lips trembled and she forced herself to stop even though every muscle in her body didn't want too. She just nodded silently and bowed down to hide her face. 

He let go off her roughly and walked towards the door. He looked back at her and clicked his tongue when he saw her shoulders shaking. 

"You killed your own mother. You have no right to cry." 

And then the door slammed shut, leaving her all alone in the dark room. 

__________________________

"Dara-ssi, can you tell us a little bit about what your parents do?" 

The girl stood up from her seat and glanced through all her classmates that were waiting patiently for her to answer. The teacher was giving her a nod, mentally telling her to start. They were in homeroom right now and the topic of the day's discussion was about their parents' work. It was her turn now but it seems like she's having a hard time with coming up with an answer. 

"Do you want us to get back to you—"

"Appa works in a big office." Dara interrupted. "He starts work early and goes home to bed late. Bom unnie and I don't see him that much during Sundays too." 

The teacher awkwardly cleared since it seemed like the girl had stepped on some personal territory that they had no business on being in. She was about to thank her and move on but Dara kept on talking. 

"Omma died giving birth to me. Appa doesn't tell me anything about her but I heard from appa's friends that she was a famous dancer. Halmeoni told me I looked exactly like her." Through it all, Dara said it with a straight face and it unnerved her teacher. 

"Thank you, Dara-ssi. You may sit down now—"

"Jiyeon imo and appa sometimes fight about her and sometimes I hear my name too. I don't know why they still talk about her." Dara blinked. "She's dead but sometimes appa says she's alive." 

The class erupted with murmurs and her teacher had a hard time getting them to pay attention to her. 

Dara blinked again. "Appa sometimes calls me by omma's name." she mumbled. "My name is not Da-hae. It's Sandara." 

"Keep quiet, everyone! Dara-ssi, please sit down!" 

Dara stared into space while her classmates continued to murmur and point fingers at her. She could hear their voices but it would always come out as vague and indiscernible in her ears. The girl shrugged and just sat back down, her legs lightly swaying on the ledge of the chair. She didn't mean to cause such a stir in the class. She was just simply telling them about her parents. 

She leaned back on her chair and stare at the window beside her while her teacher continued to pacify her students. Dara didn't really mind being compared to her mother. She'd heard loads of stories from his appa about her and kept showing her pictures. They really did look alike. It brought a small smile on her face. She wonders if she was going to grow up beautiful and talented like her too. 

She reached for a sleeve in her backpack and took out an action shot of her mother as she was dancing. Even though her appa let her look at her omma's pictures, he doesn't like it when she touches them, He always gets mad and Dara is scared when he gets mad. When her appa wasn't looking, she was able to snag a picture of her and kept if for safekeeping. This was her favorite picture in the whole wide world! It really emphasized the love her mother had for her craft and it definitely highlighted her beauty as well. 

Dara sighed. 

One can only hope that the apple doesn't fall to far from the tree but in this case, the apple seemed to not have fallen yet. 

Actually, it looks like someone stopping it from falling. 

What will happen if it goes rotten up there? 

____________________________

Dara wiped the sweat off of her face and leaned on to her knees for support. Her body felt so warm that she could feel smoke coming out from it. She glanced up at her father who was looking sternly at her while sitting comfortably on his chair. Her Jiyeon imo was looking down at her almost pitifully. She was gently patting her back and helping the teenager wipe her sweat with a towel. 

"From the top, Sandara. You're getting rusty." Dongwook barked, tapping his finger on the wooden table. 

His sister snapped at him and held Dara's heaving shoulders protectively. "Stop this, Dongwook! She's had enough. We've already been practicing for 4 hours straight!" 

"Da-hae would practice 6 hours straight without even complaining." He deadpanned. "Get to it, Sandara. You're wasting everyone's time." 

She could feel the tears brim on her eyes. Thank god that she was looking down or else her father would scold her for 'not being strong enough'. Her body was already shaking from exhaustion and just one more step could make her fall down the ground. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and looked at him desperately... pleadingly.

"I'm really tired, appa." It came out as a silent murmur. 

He ticked his tongue and stood up, kicking the chair away in the process. The two girls flinched. He strode towards her daughter and brought her up, roughly holding on to her arms. She trembled even more by how angrily he was looking at her. It looked like she was seeing a different man in front of her. It was a different man from the one he loved and called 'appa'. She could hear her aunt yelling at him and see her prying his hands away from her but Dara was completely stunned with fright under his gaze. He wasn't saying anything, yet she could clearly hear what his eyes were voicing out. 

As she aged, she got a better understanding of her appa. He wanted to have his wife back and he was getting it through her. It all made sense now. He would always snap whenever she did something wrong and would always tell her that she wasn't doing the things the way her mom used to do it.

She was 15 now but she felt much older. She felt like she wasn't able to live a normal childhood since her father kept molding her to be an imitation of the woman he lost. She didn't know if it was better to stay ignorant or know what his true intentions were. If she stayed ignorant, she wouldn't have to feel burdened or live in constant fear of her dad potentially doing something to her. She would live a life were she would be ordered to live and act like someone she's not and she won't know where that will take her. 

If she knew what his intentions were, she would have the opportunity to stop it before it would get out of hand. She can be able to escape before anything bad happened. She could live her own life and not the life that her mother wasn't able to continue. She knew what his intentions were. 

But she still stayed.

Dara always hear him calling out for her mother's name and crying in his room. A great sense of guilt washed through her since she was the cause of her death. She died giving birth to her so it was her responsibility to make up for her mother, right?

Right?

So she worked hard to keep up to her dad's standards of her mother. He would train her and send her into prestigious dance academies to make her the best in her field. Just like her mother, she thought. Just like her mother, she would be in the top and she would get all the trophies and awards that will come to her way. 

She nodded silently at him and willed her body to move. She staggered as he let go of her but Dara quickly picked herself up. Her father played the music back again and she continued with her routine. She'll do whatever she can to ease her father's grief.

Even if it meant that she would give up her identity. 

She felt a tear passed her cheek as she spun around shakily but she co