You sat by the window, awaiting another sign. You could see the whole library from where you were facing in from. Your scope of the entire room was clear, and if anything moved, you would know.

Once again, you hoped there would be something that would prove a presence in this house.

For almost twenty minutes, you waited. You waited until you felt fatigued. Quickly, you decided to pick up your favorite book, the one you kept under your pillow. You opened it up and read the inscription, like you always did.

For Sungyeol


From Your Umma


27 August 2010

You knew who Sungyeol was. He was one of the two children the previous family had. You moved in here three weeks ago with your family when your father had to relocate to this town due to his new job.

The thing about Sungyeol was, you never knew what exactly happened to him. All you knew was the Lee family moved out as soon as he died.

The book you were reading was about vampires. You adored vampires, and this book was about the love between a human and a creature of the night. How could two beings from different worlds be together?

It intrigued you. You were more than three-quarters of the way through, and you hoped it never ended.

Absorbed by the book, you almost didn't noticed the painting of a dozen of water lilies that hung at the side of the room. It was lying on the floor, right below where it was supposed to be. You rested your eyes and gazed around the room only to gasp in shock, noticing the large canvas out of place all of a sudden.

You jumped on your two feet, immediately scanning the room for a sign of existence. No one was home except you, and it would stay the same until dinnertime. How could that painting have moved on its own?

"Hello?" You called out, your heart racing tremendously.

No, you weren't afraid. You knew you offended no one, you just wanted to know what was going on.

"Hello?" You said again.

You paced around the room before standing before the painting, on your knees as you examined it. There were faint fingerprints left on the dusty frames, making you gaze in interest.

At the corner of the painting was something sticking out. There was this paper, and you took it and read it:

I read your journal. I wish I knew what was going on.

- Sungyeol