The wind blew and stung Seulgi’s face as she walked home from school.  The weather had been getting cooler as the fall season progressed into early winter.  November was the turning point in the weather.  She hugged her coat tighter to her body, wanting to trap in as much heat to herself as possible.  Inevitably, a few shivers escaped out of her control making her body attempt to warm up.  Seulgi noted to place a few sweaters in her locker in case she needed to extra layers.  

Keep going.  I know I can survive, she thought.

She kept telling herself that if she could only stick it out until the end of the school year, then she could do practically anything.  The real issue was whether or not her body and free will could persevere together for that much time.  She in a breath, accustomed to the chill that entered and felt her ears tingle.

Her house was only two blocks away from school but when the weather was chilly it felt as if she had to walk miles upon miles to get under the warm roof.  For Seulgi it took about twenty minutes to walk back home.  Once she was safely inside, she locked the front door shut and put away her coat and book bag upstairs in her room.  She descended back down the stairs and pulled her sleeves back, hoping to get dinner half ready by the time her mother came home.  She didn’t want to be scolded for being the slightest bit off schedule.

As she rinsed a few potatoes, she wished it were Wednesday already.  Every Wednesday she was given the liberty of doing whatever she wanted, which was usually to go anywhere as long as she didn’t have to stay home.  Within the next half hour, Seulgi had been successful in preparing three simple side dishes and she was working on the fourth.  While the meat was cooking, she put a pot of rice on the stove, and it was then that her mother came home.

“Are you done yet?” her mother asked, shrugging off her coat.

“Almost.  I just have to make the garlic soup now,” Seulgi said, glancing at the clock.

“Are you stupid?  The garlic has to be sautéed, roasted and then grounded before it’s put in the soup.  Then it has to cook for forty five minutes.  Your father with be home in exactly one hour,” her mother yelled.

Seulgi had known but she hadn’t estimated the side dishes to take more than fifteen minutes.  She’d assumed she would have much more time to prepare the food.  A chill ran down her back at the thought of not having the food ready by the time her father came home.  He was a man that followed a strict schedule and if he were a second off, there would be consequences.  Seulgi hastily finished the side dish and began heating up a pan with oil.  

She cut the garlic as as she filled the pan with it all and continued even as the strong fumes stung her eyes.  She couldn’t afford to miss a beat.  Once the garlic had all been distributed to the pan, Seulgi turned the oven on to it’s full power and then brought up a pot of water to boil on the stove.  She checked on the rice, thankful it was done and she had one less thing to worry about.  

Seulgi felt like a robot, having to do the same things everyday: make rice, make side dishes, make some sort of main dish and have it all done by the time her father got home.  She was so behind that by the time the garlic was finished drying in the oven, the door clicked open and her father walked in.  Seulgi’s breath caught in .  She did the only thing she could and merely threw all the garlic into the boiling pot.  The soup’s flavor wouldn’t be as strong but it was still finished.

As her father settled down, she rushed to get the side dishes on the table and a plate setting out for him.  He approached as she finished the side dishes and sat down.  Seulgi’s father was tall and muscular, he had a squarish face and thick eyebrows which gave him a constant expression of intimidation.  He had been a boxer in his college years and he still maintained his muscle and strength.  He was prideful in his abilities even now that he was older.  Other fathers didn’t have as much energy as he did. As a result of having so much energy, he was quick to lose his temper.

“Get me a drink,” he demanded.

Seulgi hurried over to the fridge and pulled out a beer bottle, one of the many he would drink into the night.  After setting it down in front of him, she went back into the kitchen, grabbed the pot of soup and brought it to her father’s seat at the dining table.  She ladled out a bowl for him, and tried to make her escape.  She had only gotten halfway up the stairs when she heard him call out for her.  She grit her teeth and slowly made her way back to him.

“What the do you call this?” her father asked, irritably pointing at the bowl.

“It’s garlic soup,” Seulgi answered, quietly, keeping her eyes downcast.  It was easier to not face him directly.

“This tastes like ,” he grumbled angrily.  With a flick of his wrist, the bowl flew off the table and landed on the floor, spewing the hot liquid everywhere.  Seulgi flinched backwards but that didn’t stop any from stinging her skin.  She bit her lip to hide the pain.

“I’m sorry.  I’ll do better next time,” she apologized.

Her father stood up, towering over her threateningly.  She felt him push her back.  She stumbled before regaining her balance.  

“Why do you have to be such a disappointment?  Next time your food tastes like , I won’t be nice.  You’re a