The last thing Chorong remembers is the shout of Eunji’s voice as she stormed away from her, the screech of a car breaking as it careened towards her, then the engulfing darkness that took her away.

When Chorong comes to, something is different. She is different. The world is different. At first, it’s as if the world is moving in slow-motion, or is it her? When Chorong tries to move, it’s like dragging her limbs through molasses. There’s a resistance that makes her groan with the effort it takes to try and sit up. She tries three times before the world becomes fuzzy. She succumbs to her exhaustion, and the darkness takes her one more time.

This time, when Chorong wakes up, there is no longer the invisible weight holding her down. She gets onto her feet easily this time, but something about the movement is off. Her body feels different. Completely different. When she goes to step forward, she doesn’t feel the usual bend of the knee. Instead, she hops. Chorong feels a rush of fear. Why did she hop? Is there something wrong with her legs?

Nothing could have prepared Chorong for what she sees when she looks down at herself. She has legs. She has a body. They just aren’t hers. What Chorong finds herself staring at is the feathered form and clawed feet of a bird. 

Chorong tries to scream, but rather than the high-pitched scream she’d grown up with, a squawk escapes her instead. An indescribable feeling takes Chorong by the throat, and she can’t stop crying out. The squawking comes again and again, and every time Chorong hears it, it feels like knives piercing her skull, but she can’t stop. She can’t stop screaming because she has to. She needs to. She needs someone to hear her and help her.

Time doesn’t feel quite real as Chorong stands there, screaming. Nothing quite feels real anymore. She stands in an unfamiliar room and screams.

Some time later, an unfamiliar woman finally stomps into the room, and the noise dies in Chorong’s throat. Call it her guts, call it instincts, but something tells Chorong that this woman is not one to be messed with. 

The woman looks like she’s in her twenties with shiny black hair and sharp eyes. She’s dressed in strange clothing, and the books she pulls from her bag look like they’ve been stolen straight from a museum because they look so old. It’s when the woman moves to relocate her books that she notices Chorong’s stare. The woman smiles at her, but rather than bringing any sense of comfort, there’s something that shoots ice through her veins and freezes her where she is. 

The woman abandons the books and saunters up to her, saying, “Good morning, sleeping beauty.” She seems tall, but Chorong can’t tell if it’s because she’s suddenly so much taller. Looking around the room tells her she’s perched on a coffee table of some sorts. She’s very small now. The woman kneels in front of her and gives her an unnerving grin. She says, “You must have a lot of questions. First things first, you can call me Solar. It’s not my real name, but it’ll do.”

I don’t care about your name, Chorong thinks heatedly. What have you done to me?

“Watch your manners,” Solar tuts. “You should care about the name of the person who has your soul.”

Chorong stumbles backwards, tripping over her scrawny legs in surprise. How did you know what I was thinking?

“For the same reason you’re a bird now,” Solar replies. “Magic.” She wiggles the fingers of one hand and smiles. “It’s nothing personal, you being a bird, by the way. I’m just in the habit of collecting lost souls, and yours, well, it was drifting so aimlessly after you died. That was about three days ago?”

I died? Chorong asks. It makes horrible sense when she remembers the screech of tires and darkness. What do you mean, lost souls?

“It’s exactly as it sounds,” Solar says. “You died, got hit by a car., and people who are lost are usually people who die before they’re ready to die.” She leans forward and tilts her head, sharp eyes studying Chorong like she’s been put under a microscope. “I happened to have this bird sitting around, so I went ahead and stuck your soul in there. It could be worse. I usually store my souls in vials, and I’ve been told it’s not very fun in there.” 

Chorong feels hollow at the confirmation that she’s dead. She isn’t sure what to do about that because she’s not really dead. She’s living and breathing but in the body of a bird. She focuses hard on not letting her incredulity and fear show in her thoughts. She’s sure some of it comes through but hopefully not as much. She isn’t sure what the make of this woman, but what she is sure of is that she is not in a good situation.

What do you use the souls you collect for? Chorong asks.

Solar shrugs, “This and that. Human sacrifice whenever a spell calls for it. The necessities, you know?”

Chorong swallows the fear that creeps up , even though she’d been expecting something like that. It’s one thing to think you’ll be sacrificed. It’s another thing to know. Why put me in this bird then? Chorong demands. Why not just put me in a box like all the rest?

For the first time since she’s walked in, Chorong sees Solar hesitate. A shred of vulnerability flashes across her face before it’s smoothed away with another smile. “I don’t know,” Solar answers cheerfully. “I guess I just wanted to mix things up a bit.”

It’s a lie, but Chorong says nothing. She stays there and watches as Solar gets back onto her feet and goes about what she was doing before. As Solar moves about the room, she tells Chorong more about herself. She’s twenty-three, the same age Chorong was when she died, and she works at a clinic. She complains about the job, but she says she gets good potion ingredients there. Solar rambles and rambles for hours, and Chorong stays on the table where she woke up. She listens though. She learns that Solar is so abysmal at cooking that she subsists solely on take-out. She learns that Solar likes to play the piano in her spare time. Most importantly though, she learns that Solar is very, very lonely.

The pieces begin to fall into place the more Chorong listens to Solar talk. Solar goes to work then comes straight home. The only time she doesn’t is when she stops by a nearby witchcraft store to pick up supplies. Besides that, she doesn’t ever mention leaving her home. Solar never mentions friends or family, and the way she talks to Chorong makes it feel as if she’s been wanting to say a lot of these things for a long time.

It’s the strangest thing, feeling pity for the woman who stole your soul, but Chorong feels it.

“I want you to know you aren’t stuck here,” Solar tells her that night as she’s tucking Chorong into a shoebox filled with scraps of plush fabric. “I’ve never put a human soul inside an animal before, but you may want to go and fly for a bit. That’s fine, but you have to come back, okay? If you don’t, I’ll just use magic to find you.”

Okay, Chorong says. Her thought is nothing more than a whispered acknowledgement. What else can she say? This is apparently her life now.

Solar frowns slightly then pokes Chorong’s face. “Cheer up,” Solar says. “Go visit your girlfriend or whatever. Ex-girlfriend? She’s still alive and kicking. Go see her tomorrow when I’m at work.” With that, Solar pads off to go to sleep in her bed, leaving Chorong in the strange room in her makeshift nest. 

As soon as the door closes, Chorong slumps as best as she can as a bird. She silently cries to herself, which translates to irregular trembles that shake her entire body. She doesn’t know what to do. She doesn’t want to be trapped here as the only companion to a lonely witch. She wants to go home. 

Chorong thinks of Eunji. She imagines what it would be like to just go home now, as a human, and see her smile at her like she always did when she came home and give her that hug that always made Chorong feel like she was in the safest place in the world. Chorong just shakes harder, feeling as though her body can’t handle the sheer amount of emotions she’s experiencing.

This is how Chorong falls asleep, tucked away in random strips of fabric in a stranger’s home, dreaming of another life.

-

Chorong has always been an early riser, but now, she wakes up with the sun. She instinctively croons at the first few beams of sunlight and welcomes a new day. At least, she does until she remembers exactly why she’s awake, why she’s crooning at the sunlight. Chorong died, and a witch stole her soul, and now, Chorong has no idea what to do. 

The house is empty, and Chorong notices the door is now open. Curious, she wriggles out of her nest and flies a bit clumsily to the door. It’s a weird sensation, flying. It’s freeing and confusing. It feels unnatural. Chorong flutters around the house, discovering it’s a rather small home with only two bedrooms, one bathroom, a cramped living, and the tiniest kitchen she’s ever seen. It’s when Chorong investigates the kitchen that she finds a note scrawled to her.

Chorong,

I’ve gone to work for the day. As I said, you are free to leave as long as you return by 5pm. If you do not, I will come collect you myself. I encourage you to leave though. Go visit your family or lover and have your closure. Life will be easier that way.

- Solar

P.S. This house is located in the backwoods of XXX. If you head north, you’ll be in the area that you died, which I’m assuming is close to where you live. 

Chorong shifts uneasily after reading that. Her claws click against the smooth marble, only adding to her discomfort. She can’t imagine seeing her family right now, like this. It’s not like they’ll know it’s her, their only daughter magicked into the body of a bird, but the thought is unsettling nonetheless. 

It’s not the same for Eunji though. With her parents, Chorong was on good terms with them when she died. There is nothing unresolved between her and them. However, with Eunji, just about everything was unresolved. 

Chorong recalls the day she died, albeit a bit fuzzily. It was after dinner, and Eunji and she had been on the couch. They’d been watching something when Eunji brought up something that caused a fight to erupt between them. It’d all happened so quickly, escalating into a shouting match before either of them could stop themselves. Chorong vaguely remembers the fury burning just under her skin as she told Eunji to go to hell. She’d left their apartment not long after that. Two years of dating, and Chorong had never done that. Left in the middle of an argument. Now, she can’t quite be sure what made her do it that time. 

Not long after that, Chorong had died. She’d walked into the street without thinking. She’d gotten hit by a car who hadn’t been able to stop in time. She died.

If it’s possible for a bird to feel nauseous, Chorong feels it in her bones. It’s a kind of shaky disquiet that leaves her unsteady and fidgety. She turns away from the note and explores the kitchen a bit more. She finds some fruits and nuts laid out and nibbles on them, hoping something in her stomach will settle her. It only helps some.

Chorong takes her time exploring the rest of the house, and when she’s finished, it’s barely noon. She looks back to the note sitting innocently on the counter and then looks to the window that’s barely opened. The gap is just big enough for Chorong to fit through. An intentional exit. 

When Chorong hesitates, she finds herself getting mad at herself. What does she have to lose, seeing Eunji?

A small part in the back of her mind whispers everything.

Chorong decides to leave anyway. She manages to get onto the window sill and wriggles her way through the gap. She hops nervously once she’s on the other side, taking a moment to take in the fresh air. She stares up at the clear sky above her and channels all of her nervous energy into flying. It shouldn’t be that hard, right?

Taking a deep breath, Chorong just leaps. She isn’t sure if it’s muscle memory for the body, or magic, or something else entirely, but flying comes as naturally as breathing. It’s strange to fly farther than the scant feet that she did within the house, but it’s all the more liberating. For the first time since she’s died, she feels alive.

Like Solar wrote, Chorong flies north and finds herself in her neighborhood after a while. It takes a while to figure out where her apartment is, unused to seeing everything from up so high, but eventually, she flutters down to a familiar window sill. Surprisingly, it’s open.

Chorong realizes why when she lands, finding herself staring up at Eunji. The other woman had been resting her arms on the sill, staring out the open window. When Chorong lands by her elbow, Eunji pulls back in surprise. Her eyes are puffy and red, face pale. She looks more tired than Chorong can ever remember her looking, and Chorong feels her heart break. 

Eunji stares blankly at Chorong. She purses her lips then waves a hand in Chorong’s face, as if to shoo her. Chorong lets out an indignant caw. Excuse her! Chorong makes the irritated noise again and hops around, looking at her accusingly. 

“Seriously?” Eunji says as she pulls away again. “Fine, stay then.” She leans back in the chair she’s sitting in and glares at Chorong. She sighs moodily and looks away as she mutters, “No one else wants to stay, but a bird does. Great.”

Chorong moves closer and lets out another bothered caw. She isn’t sure what she expected from this visit, but she didn’t expect this. Eunji’s always been a bright person, and it’s disheartening to see her like this. Chorong knows that, for Eunji, she’s dead and gone. She’s lost her, but Chorong has never wanted Eunji to suffer like this. Certainly not because of her.

“I lost my girlfriend recently,” Eunji whispers suddenly. The words take Chorong off guard so badly that she hops straight into the window frame. It makes Eunji chuckle, but there’s still the deeply anguished look on her face. The dark anger is gone, replaced by a quiet sadness. Eunji reaches out and gently runs a hand from her head and down her body, taking care to smooth out her feathers. “I don’t know why I’m telling a bird this, but I’ve been needing to say it, and I don’t want to say it to any of my friends. Not that I’m really talking to any of them right now… Too angry. I don’t want to say the wrong thing,” Eunji continues. Her finger absently pets Chorong as she says, “We were in the middle of an argument, and she just left. I was so mad, but I chased after her. I didn’t want that to be the end…” 

Eunji chuckles again, but this one is all bitter melancholy and no humor. “Chorong wasn’t looking where she was going. I guess she was too upset. She was crossing the street when… When a car hit her.” Eunji pulls her hand away and leans heavily against the window frame. Her breaths are shaky, and Chorong realizes there are tears dripping down her cheeks. “I tried to help her, but she was already gone when the ambulance arrived, and it’s my fault.” Eunji’s voice cracks on the last word, and the tears that were leaking from her eyes are now falling freely. Eunji lets out a wretched sob and buries her face in her hands. “It’s my fault. It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t started the fight, she never would have left. I can’t even remember what the fight was about. What did we argue over that was worth her life?” Eunji hunches in on herself as she cries harder, and Chorong can only helplessly stand there as the love of her life falls to her knees, mourning her lover that is right in front of her.

I’m here. It’s not your fault, Chorong wants to say. It’s my fault. I walked into the street without looking. I made you think I was cheating. That’s what the fight was about. I’d been so distant and cold. I’d been spending so much time away from you. You thought I was cheating, but I was just scared of being in a serious relationship with you. It’s my fault, Eunji. It’s my fault. 

Chorong can’t say any of this though. She’s trapped in the body of a bird, unable to provide her love the comfort she desperately needs. She does what she can though. If it’s possible, her small body shakes as she flutters down from the window sill and down onto the floor of the apartment. Eunji doesn’t even notice her, lost in her tears. 

There’s a brief moment of hesitation before Chorong hops closer. She stops right in front of Eunji, but she’s so small she doesn’t register on Eunji’s senses. Frustrated, as Eunji’s cries echo through the empty apartment, Chorong leans forward and takes the loose fabric of Eunji’s pants in her beak and yanks on it. 

It’s not that strong of a tug, but it’s enough to make Eunji look up. Her crying comes to a shuddering stop as she stares at the little bird in front of her, an inexplicable emotion on her face. She opens then closes it. Her eyebrows furrow then she rubs at her swollen, red eyes. Wh