"Goodbye, Seoul. Hello, Busan," I whispered to myself. I stared at my new house by a small lake. I parked my car and got out of the driver's seat. I began to unload all of the boxes from my car. 'This house is huge,' I thought to myself as I brought the first box through the door.

I went back to my car to get another box and made my way inside. On my way to the door, I tripped over something, dropping the box. I closed my eyes and braced for the impact when I felt an arm on my back. "Woah there. Be careful," a voice said.

I slowly opened my eyes to see who'd caught me. "Um... Thank you," I said, looking up to the person. I stood up and dusted myself off. "Excuse me, but may I know your name?" I politely asked.

"Now's not a very good time. You'll figure it out sometime," he told me. He gave me a warm smile then looked at the box I've just dropped, then at the rest in my car. "Need some help?" He offered.

"It would help," I said softly. I crouched down to pick up everything that fell out of the box I've just dropped.

He helped me pick them up, examining them. "What are these?" He asked, holding one of my paintings.

"They're my paintings. There's more in the car, but I sold most of them to help pay for this house," I explained. I continued to pick them up and put them back in the box, careful not to ruin anything.

"You made these?" He asked in amazement. "So are you an artist?" His eyes widened as I nodded my head. "You're really good," he complimented.

"Thanks," I said, slightly blushing. "I'm just a rookie artist. Nothing big," I said modestly as I brought in the box while he went back to bring more boxes inside the house.

=

After bringing all of the boxes inside, we went outside and sat down on the front porch. The warm summer breeze brushed against my skin, sending shivers down my spine. "Thanks for helping me out today," I thanked him.

"It was no problem. If you ever need anything, feel free to call me," He offered. He grabbed my cell-phone from my hand and saved his number. I looked at the screen. "Kikwang," it read.

"I finally figured out your name," I said with a small smile cracking on my face.

"Yup. I guess this blows my cover, huh?" He jokingly said. He let out a small chuckle and looked at his phone. "It's getting late. You should go inside," he said. I nodded my head and made my way towards the door, only to be stopped by his voice. "Wait!" He yelled.

"Yes?" I said politely.

"May I know your name?" He asked.

"Kaeri. Lee Kaeri," I replied.

==

I went inside my bedroom and laid down on the bed. Tossing and turning for hours didn't help the fact that I was still wide awake. "Gah!" I groaned. I stood up and went down to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

I was fiddling through the cabinets as I tried to find a cup. 'How did I forget where I put the cups?' I asked myself. While looking through the cabinets, I found a small black book laying around. I picked it up and held it in my hand. From its condition, it was obvious that this was old. Very old. I set it on top of the counter and continued my search for a glass.

After drinking my water, I picked up the book and went up to my bedroom. I sat up against the wall, wrapped up in my blanket. I the lamp beside me as I dusted off the cover of the book. The cover was blank. I opened up to the first page. It read;

"January 5, 1954

Dear Diary,

I'm not sure why Dongwoon gave me this diary for my birthday, but it would be a waste if I didn't use it, right? Although, I'm sure it's because he wants me to be more open about my feelings. Today marks my eighteenth birthday. Wow, I feel old. I wish I could stop aging now.
Although it wasn't exactly the best birthday ever, I must admit that it was fun. I think I'll stop here.

- Yang Yoseob"

'Yang Yoseob? Is that the former owner?' I thought to myself. Instead of continuing my questions, I flipped to the next page.

"January 16, 1954

Dear Diary,

Today, I went to the doctor's for a check-up. They said my condition is even worse. This can't be happening! I'm too young to die! Ironic. Last time I wrote in here, I said that I feel old. Now I'm saying that I'm too young to die? Yang Yoseob, you're so odd. Stupid diabetes! I wish we've never met! It's all your fault that I'm about to die!

- Yang Yoseob"

I flipped to the next page and stared in shock at the book when I finished reading.

"February 14, 1954

Dear Diary,

The doctors say I only have one month left to live. I'm hopeless now. Nothing can cure me now. Not surgery. Not insulin. Not even treatment. So obviously it means that I had to break up with her. And on Valentine's Day too. I'm so sorry. I love you.

- Yang Yoseob"

'Poor girl... Poor Yoseob,' I thought. I felt pity for them. They sounded really happy together, only to be ruined by fate. Why must it be so cruel? As I turned to the next page, my face literally went pale.

"March 13, 1954

Dear Diary,

This will be my last entry. I can't write much now that I'm too weak to barely hold this pen. I'm sorry. Sorry to Dongwoon for spending money on this diary that I've barely written in. Sorry to everyone. Especially"

The entry was then cut off. A small tear escaped my eye as I wiped it away. I closed the book and stared at the wall with wide eyes. I huddled up in my blanket and rested my head on my pillow. I looked at the clock next to me. It was 3:23 in the morning. 'Have I really stayed up this late?' I asked myself.

Suddenly, a cold gust of wind brushed against me. I looked at the window thinking it might be open. But no. It was completely shut. I glanced at the door. It was closed. 'What could that possibly be?'