Yoseob

"Hey, Yoseob! Where's that picture you always have?"

"Hmm? What picture?" I asked. Doo Joon had stepped in front of me while I was trying to go to the bedroom to lay down. It had been a long day.

"You know, of that girl you won't talk about?" I felt my heart drop when he said that. I kept her photo in the back of my wallet because it was hard for me to look at, though every once in a while, I'll take it out and remember some of the letters we wrote.

"Oh, that. It's in my wallet," I said simply. He held out his hand. I sighed, rolling my eyes, then gave it to him. He looked at the picture carefully, then grabbed my arm and dragged me to the television.

"She looks kind of like her," he said. I looked. A small, very thin girl was being interviewed in front of a police station. They were speaking in English. I didn't really know why Doo Joon was watching this, or why it was even on, since it seemed to be a news show from the States.

"She kind of does. But the girl in the picture has been dead for seven years," I finally said. Doo Joon's head shot up, then, and he looked at me with sad eyes.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't know..." I just nodded to him, then looked back at the screen. The headline caught my eye: (Girl Comes Back From The Dead) What the...

I looked back at the girl to get a closer look, but they changed to the reporter. I sat down as I listened. Doo Joon looked over to me, then back at the screen, understanding my change of mood. I silently thanked him for not changing the channel. My English wasn't really as good as it should have been, since I hadn't really practiced much after she died, but I understood enough.

*~~as the young girl who, apparently says she is really 21 years old, has had to endure countless beatings and abusement at an orphanage that would not let her go. Authorities are still searching for the elusive owner of the establishment, who slipped away before the police could get there. She claims to be Candice Yung, who supposedly died seven years ago in a terrible house fire with her father. Is this girl really who she claims to be? Or is she trying to live the life of a ghost from the past? We may know soon enough. On to the weather, Bob.*

My mouth was hanging open. Needless to say, I was shocked. Could it really be her? I mean... Was it possible? But they didn't show her again, so I couldn't get a better look at her. Doo Joon cleared his throat. I looked over to him.

"Was that the same girl?" he bluntly asked.

"It.... might be... But if not, then who would be that sick as to assume a dead identity?" I replied, more to myself than to him. If she really was alive all this time, why didn't she write? Or come here? She was like family, she would have been more than welcome... It couldn't be her, then. I brushed it off. Obviously, the press had nothing better to do than dig up old ghosts from the past and try to get something interesting from it. That's what I told myself, anyway. But I kept getting this nagging feeling that something wasn't quite right. I sighed. It really was a long day. I needed rest.

Candice

Apparently I was some kind of celebrity now. I looked at the officer who had been talking. He was still mad at me for talking to those people yesterday, but he said he understood why I did it.

"They want to do a documentary, if you're up for it," he said. I could tell he wanted me to do it, but at the same time, he was worried.

"It's okay. It sounds like fun, actually. I'm up for anything that involves living." That was the only way I could describe what I was feeling. I knew why he was worried, though. He thought all that's happened might be too much for me, but I think I needed the push. I didn't really know what else to do, so I saw this as a starter to push me in the right direction.

"They are supposed to send someone over to talk about what to cover in the documentary if you accept." I nodded. He got up and made a phone call. It's funny... I just realized he was the one who brought me the reports of the investigations, and he was the one who drove me around, and he was so worried, and I didn't even know his name... He came back over.

"Everything's set. They'll come tomorrow." I nodded. He got up to leave.

"Wait," I said. He turned around. "What's your name?" He looked surprised for a minute, then laughed slightly as he answered.

"It's Eric." And then he walked out of the room to finish his duties. I smiled to myself.

The next  day came after what seemed like an eternity of night, and with the morning came a real sit down interview, which was to be followed by the documentary people talking. I couldn't help but wonder who would take their time to set all of this up... I followed Eric to a simple room with just a table and two chairs. He pulled one out for me and stood in the corner while we waited for the reporter. She came in just a few minutes later with a large notebook and had a sort of rushed expression on her face, like she thought she was going to be late for something. She smiled at me as she sat down, then she opened her book and began the interview.

"You said your name is Candice Yung, right?"

"Yes."

"The same one that was supposed to have died seven years ago?"

"It seems that way." She laughed softly at that.

"You and your father were supposed to have died in a house fire. Were you actually there?"

"Yes."

"Could you tell me what happened?" I nodded and proceeded to tell her everything that happened right up until I woke up in the orphanage. She looked shocked.

"You never got to apologise? That's so sad... And you had no family?" I shook my head.

"No. I did have a penpal, though."

"And you didn't write?"

"We weren't allowed."

"What was it like in that place?"

The interview went on like that for a bit. I would describe things that I would much rather not remember, like the food and the beatings. I talked about some of the chores I had, which seemed to surprise her, though I wasn't sure why. At last, we were coming to the end.

"I heard you are planning to do a documentary."

"Yes. They are actually coming by later today to talk about it."

"Now that you're out and... 'free', what plans do you have? Is there anything you want to do or anywhere you want to go?"

"Actually, I had always wanted to be a singer or comedian. I may try looking into that soon. But what I really want to do now is go to Korea."

"Korea? Why?"

"Well, I'm actually half Korean on my father's side, and he was always ready to teach me about my heritage and answer questions I had. He took me there once, when I was eight, and before the accident, we had plans to go there for my friend's next birthday, which would have been about a year after that."

"Your friend?"

"My penpal. We had been writing to each other since we were six. My dad was a close friend of his dad's. They thught it would be good for us to learn each other's language." She nodded her head in amazement.

"I have no friends here, and nothing to tie me here now that everything's gone. Korea is really the only home I have left. I hope that I can find my friend and maybe get the shadow of a family back into my life." She started crying when I said that, and I didn't know what to do. It left me feeling very awkward.

"Well, it was so nice talking with you. Thank you for allowing me to interview you," she said after she had calmed down. I shook her hand and nodded.

After she left, we waited for the documentary people. I kept thinking about Korea. It really was the only thing I had left. A new home. It sounded so nice.

Author's Note: Hey guys! Thanks for sticking with me so far! I wasn't sure where to end this chapter, and then I just kept writing. It's longer than I expected it to be. :) I wanted to get something out before Halloween because I'm spending the nigth at a friend's, so I wouldn't be updating at all. So here it is! Enjoy! :D

Thank you so much cantresistTAEMtation for subscribing!

@cutiepi2124: Either you are really good at guessing what's next, or I'm just incredibaly predictable. >.>;; Ah, hopefully I will get better at keeping you guessing! ;)

@Izmarie94: I know right! It was so difficult to write because I felt so bad. I kept thinking "How could I do this to my characters?! I am such an evil person!!" But then I remember how it's supposed to end and I don't feel so bad. Spoiler: I am a er for happy endings. :D