Maybe it was fate.

Maybe it was a coincidence.

Da Eun always liked the dark which was why she preferred night over day and black over white. Her mother never truly approved of that. Her Father, on the other hand, would ignore her odd taste for the dark just as he ignored many other things as well.

Her love for the dark is what led Da Eun to sitting alone in her dimly lit room. It was nearing sunset and a bit of the orange colour from outside was seeping through her curtains. She had closed her door and couldn’t hear anything that was happening downstairs.

Da Eun took out a couple of boxes from under her bed. In one was her old Walkman along with many CDs. She used to collect the albums of many artists when she was young. Along with all her friends, Da Eun spent her youth learning different dances while listening to music on her stereo in her living room.

She took out the headphones that were left in the box and plugged them into the music player. She grazed her hands over the large array of CDs before choosing one; her favourite. She took the CD out and placed it in the Walkman. Da Eun pressed play and leaned back against the headboard of her bed and closed her eyes.

Da Eun wrapped her arms around herself and tried to calm her racing heart. She had become very anxious. Da Eun would find herself always shaking her leg and looking around as if someone were coming to take her away.

But if only someone would come to take Da Eun away, she would think. And then she would stop shaking and hope. She would hope that someone would come to take her away to another world.

Then she would remember that this was her pre-determined home and there was nothing she could do about it. That would be when Da Eun would shake again—more violently thought by thought.

So Da Eun decided to listen to music. But she wasn’t able to calm herself with the music played on the radio. So, she turned to music she listened to as a child. It helped her much more. Because it was the songs that were played during her happy days—during the days when she never found her true self.

Da Eun let the music take her back to when she was twelve. She pictured herself in a jean skirt and her sparkly purple top. She would match it with purple boots, a pretty white scarf and hat. It was her favourite outfit that she would wear nearly every day.

Da Eun imagined herself jumping up and down on the couches. She would make random dance moves that didn’t match the song at all. But it didn’t matter since she was having fun.

“Fun,” Da Eun whispered to herself when the song ended.

She took out her old video recorder and plopped a tape into in. It was a video taken by her aunt one day. Da Eun didn’t know her aunt was recording her when she was dancing to the television and was quite surprised when she saw the video recorder.

Da Eun watched herself laugh and jump around in circles. She noted the part where she nearly tripped and found herself laughing lightly. And after a bit, Da Eun felt wet tears trickle down her face. She bit her lip, holding in a cry.

When the tape was over, Da Eun’s entire face was wet but she didn’t have the energy to wipe the tears away. As soothing as it was, Da Eun’s trip to the past only brought tears to her eyes and pain to her heart. Knowing that she would never be able to relive all of that, she felt completely helpless.

“I need to leave,” Da Eun whispered to herself.

So, the next morning Da Eun grabbed her wallet and went out on the streets in search for a place to live in. She didn’t want a big house but she didn’t want a small rooftop home either. She wasn’t even sure if she wanted a home.  All Da Eun truly wanted was a place to call her own—a place without judging eyes and painful scars.

“Come in, miss,” The real estate agent said.

Da Eun’s head shot up and she timidly followed the man into his office. It was a clean and relatively empty office. He had a si