"But the stars that marked our falling start away."

She listened to the soft pitter-patter of the rain against the windowpane, resting her cheek against the cool glass. Her fingers traced small swirls and patterns in the fog, but soon they began unconsciously tracing the same word over and over again.

Daehyun.

"You must never go outside. Especially not at night."

Mieun never fully understood her parents' irrational fears, especially that of the night, but as the obedient child she was raised to be, she didn't question her parents' insistence and stayed inside the house.

7:01 PM

Mieun's boots sloshed through the puddles from yesterday's rain as she ran towards home. She huffed, her face red from exhaustion. She couldn't be late. Her parents always expected her to be home exactly at 7:00 PM. A second late, and they would throw a fit. She would be lucky even if they let her roam out and about the next year. Her footsteps echoed eerily throughout the empty neighborhood. The erratic flickering of the street lights plunged the street into darkness one second and then into light the next. She stopped, panting, her hands on her knees. She gasped, her breaths coming fast and shallow. Then, she stopped, listening.

She could've sworn she heard someone heavily breathing over her shoulder. She could've sworn she felt someone breathing down her back. She could've sworn she heard someone's footsteps echoing her own. But she could only hear the frantic drumming of her own heartbeat that threatened to burst out of her chest.

The moon was already high in the sky when Mieun knocked breathlessly on the door. She didn't even have time to lift her hand to knock a third time when the door flung open and her parents' worried faces appeared within the door frame. Her mother swept Mieun into her arms and hugged Mieun tightly, nearly squeezing the breath out of her. Mieun patted her mother's back comfortingly. "Mom. I'm fine. You don't have to worry anymore."

Mieun's mother buried her face in Mieun's hair, murmuring softly and rocking Mieun back and forth like she used to do when Mieun was still a young child. "My child..I will never stop worrying about you."

Mieun didn't comment or respond, but she just gently extracted herself from her mother's fierce embrace. Her father kissed the crown of her head lightly, saying, "I'm glad you're back. Come help set up for dinner. Mom made a wonderful dinner for your birthday."

Mieun nodded docilely, moving towards the kitchen to set the table. They ate in a comfortable silence, munching on the bland, unsalted food. The green veggies were limply floating in the soup while the chicken was dry and tasteless. The rice were hard, little grains that lodged in , forcing Mieun to take a sip of water with every spoonful. The cake was crummy and dry, choking her. The white frosting was bland and tasted slightly of chicken.

Her mother looked at her hopefully, "How does it taste? I made it extra special for your birthday."

Mieun chewed thoughtfully, stopping to swallow before answering with a simple, "It's good."

Good.

In Mieun's world, everything was good. Just good, nothing else. Not horrible, not wonderful, not anything. She had grown up only knowing this way of life, believing that this was what 'good' was. Like a naive child, she believed that every child in the world lived like this, only eating dry, tasteless food, only being able to venture outside of the house once a year, only being able to stay locked up in one's room unless one was given permission. That was Mieun's definition of good because that was all she had ever known. The food was good. Her parents were good. Her life was good. Everything was good, nothing more and nothing less. It was the only word she would use to describe her life. It was the only word she knew. She didn't suffer from want or excess. Why should she? She had everything a girl could want. Everything was good.

Or so, she thought.

It all started on November 11th, the day before her 19th birthday.

It was a good day.

Through her curtained window, Mieun could see the clear, blue sky, dotted by the occasional passing white, fluffy cloud that peeked from outside the forbidding foliage of the trees.  There wasn't a sound to be heard for miles except for the occasional chirrup of a bird or bark of a dog. There wasn't a living thing to be heard for miles; her parents made sure of that.

They lived in the woods. The only occasional living thing that would pass by would be a wild animal or the random traveler. It was only her, her family, and the trees. A high fence shielded the family's property from unwanted eyes and predators. The only road was a dirt one; it was rarely used, except when her parents made the occasional trip to town. It tiny, winding road that seemed to lead to no where. So many times, she would ask her parents why they lived all by themselves in the woods. "Because, Mieun," her mother would always tell her, "It's better for you this way. Trust me."

And so, she did, for mother always knows best.

She lived alone in the woods, the little girl with her parents.

But she couldn't deny that, sometimes, the shadows came alive at night.

She stepped away wistfully from her window, wishing she could feel the cool breeze on her face. 'Tomorrow....' she told herself firmly, anticipation and excitement evident in her voice. 'Tomorrow.'

She returned to her rocking chair, tucking her feet underneath her and picking up her worn copy of Dante's Inferno. She didn't have anything else to read that the moment. She loved reading. It was the only thing her parents allowed her to do besides cooking, sewing, and studying. Reading let her imagination take her to places where she couldn't go physically. She could paint an imaginary world in her head, free from any restrictions. It helped her to pass the time when she was locked in her room. 

Her parents made sure to bring her a new book to read every month. She had amassed a great collection, filling rows and rows of shelves. She had everything. Romance novels, historical fiction, great works of literature, biographies, non-fiction, encyclopedias, fantasy novels, science fiction. But she had already read them all. Since her parents had not yet given her a new book to read, she had settled with one of her favorites, Dante's Inferno. She didn't know why, but she always found herself coming back to re-read Dante whenever she felt bored. She found Dante's writing and imagery fascinating, wondering about the different levels of hell. It was a subject that intrigued her. She would always ask herself: where would she end up?

Heaven?

Or what level of hell?

The darkest pits? 

Or the highest clouds? 

She flipped open to the first page. 

"Midway upon the journey of our life

I found myself within a forest dark...."

"Mieun!" Mieun reluctantly shut the book, folding the page, when she heard her mother call her from down below. She got up from where she was lying on her bed and opened her door. "What?" She called out.

Her mother's face appeared from the kitchen. "Dinner's ready," she informed Mieun, "Anyways, it's about time that you set down your book and take a break from reading."

Mieun pouted. Always, her parents would have to tell her to stop reading and take up on her half-finished embroidery instead. She walked back to her room and placed Dante's Inferno back on the shelf. Running lightly down the stairs, she approached the kitchen where her mother and father were conversing seriously at the dinner table. Their facial expressions were a chaotic mix of worry, anxiety, and fear.

Mieun sat down in her seat quietly, clearing , "What's wrong, papa?"

Her father glanced at her with stern eyes, "Not now, Mieun. Your mother and I are discussing something very important."

Mieun's mother tossed her a worried look. She wrung her hands, smoothing out her apron. "Yes, not now, Mieun," she nervously tittered, "Go into the kitchen and get the food ready. We'll tell you later."

Mieun obediently walked into the kitchen, opening the oven with mitts. She didn't bother anymore about what was worrying her parents so much. Her parents knew what they were doing. They were good parents. Life was good. Why should she worry?

Pulling out the pot roast from the oven, she carefully brought it out to the dinner table. She made sure that the tableware and everything was laid out properly. When she was satisfied with the dinner setting, she sat down and folded her napkin across her  lap. She began to slowly chew the limp broccoli, savoring the bland taste. Her parents cleared their throats, "Mieun."

She looked up, startled. They rarely spoke during dinner. They always ate in silence. What was so important that her parents were speaking during dinner meal? She swung her feet idly. "Yes?"

Her father pointed to the newspaper spread out in front of him. "You're not going out tomorrow. I forbid it."

Mieun slammed her hands on the table, knocking over her chair as she stood up, "What? Why?" Her mother made a sound of disapproval in . But Mieun, for once, didn't care what her parents thought. She had waited 364 days for this day. It was the only day that kept her sane for the rest of the year.

"Sit down!" Her father barked. Mieun reluctantly sat down; years of obedience and upbringing forced her to sit. Her father cleared his throat, "Your mother and I have our reasons. Xi Luhan, an escaped convict from China broke free from the Korean authorities yesterday. He's said to be hiding around this area. I forbid you to go out. You know Xi Luhan."

Mieun did know Xi Luhan. And all means, she should fear him and what he was capable of. But right now, she didn't care. Her outrage blinded her. She couldn't think straight. All she could think about was going outside.

Her father said nothing, only looked at her mother with a message that Mieun couldn't decipher. Mieun growled angrily, "You know what? I don't care. I'm leaving now." She grabbed her coat and scarf off the rack and slipped on her shoes. She reached out to open the door, but before she could, her parents appeared in a flash, restraining her.

She screamed wildly, "Let go of me! I demand you to let go of me! I'm going outside. I don't care what you say! I'm going out!"

Her father wrestled her arms behind her back, roaring, "Mieun! I swear! I'll tie you up and lock you in if I have to! You're not going outside!" The room was filled with Mieun's shrieking and her father's roaring while her mother wept uncontrollably, watching her husband and daughter struggle with each other.

Mieun's father wrestled her to the ground, pressing her down with his knee. Mieun shrieked, tears escaping the corners of her eyes, "Let go! Let go! Let go of me!"

Unrelenting, her father picked her up, slinging her over his shoulder like a dead body. She kicked and screamed at the top of her lungs. Her puny fists made no effect on her father's steady pace towards her bedroom. Her mother trailed uselessly behind, wringing her hands in distraught. In her hands were a set of locks and a coil of rope. She had feared that this day would come eventually. Why else would they keep rope and locks on hand? 12 years had passed peacefully, leading her to think that Mieun would be fine.

But she was wrong.

Now, all Mieun could think of was going outside.

Her husband dumped Mieun, now limp as a rag doll, her eyes hollow, unceremoniously in a chair in the center of Mieun's bedroom. He held his hand out, not saying anything. Without hesitation, Mieun's mother passed her husband the rope. As her husband roughly looped the rope around Mieun's wrists, binding her to the chair, Mieun screamed shrilly in frustration and anger. Still, her mother and father didn't hesitate and proceeded to lock up all her windows and secure her to the chair.

As they left the room and closed the door, Mieun's parents softly whispered, "This is for your own good."

Life wasn't good.

Mieun wasn't good. Her parents weren't good. The food wasn't good.

She was just deluding herself.

She knew there was something off about her. Normal kids didn't stay locked up their whole life. Normal kids didn't have to always look over their shoulders on the one day they were allowed outside. Normal kids didn't have to live like her.

She had realized that when she had started reading. Her parents were unaware of the change. They didn't notice the intelligent spark in her eyes or the slight resistance in her actions. So she kept quiet. She continued being her parents' little girl, obedient and docile. She told herself that everything was normal, that everything was 'good'.

And slowly, she began to revert back to how she was in the beginning. A living doll trapped in her fake, pretty dollhouse.

But now, she was awake. Her parents' rash actions had awoken her from a deep slumber. And now, she saw how imperfect and flawed the world she believed in was. It wasn't a good world at all.

She broke down and wept bitterly, the darkness rising outside her window.

All she could think about was going outside. 

First chapter is up. Not the long chapters I usually write, but I'm on a tight squeeze. Thank you to all who have supported this story. 17 subs already? I'm crying *A* I'll try to update as soon as possible. Just found out that the contest's deadline was changed to April 19th. And I'll be gone for the beginning of April. Urk. I'm thinking of writing as quickly as I can, and after the contest, I'll be rewriting it and possibly elongating the story. Thoughts? Opinions?

-kitty.