“It’s not necessary but feel free,” she told her.
  She pulled off her glasses to reveal chocolate brown eyes. They appeared normal except for a mirror like sheen, but her gaze pointed down, unfocused on any object.
  “This is my first visit to a psychic,” she admitted. Her face was grave and serious as she placed two bills on the table.
  “So, are you a sceptic?” said Yira, her tone almost joking.
  “Oh no,” she denied, shaking her head. “I believe. Trust me, when you’re blind all your other senses heighten, and it includes your sixth sense.”
  “And I believe it’s also why you’re here,” she surmised, sliding the bills under the table.
  “Yes,” she nodded. “I usually have faith in what I feel, I have relied on them all my life and they have always served me well, but as of late, I am developing concerns.”
  “So tell me, what are these concerns of yours?” Yira pried. “I have an assistant in the room here so please explain it simply for his sake.”
  “Hey!” he snapped, an offended scowl on his face.
  “You shouldn’t so much,” the woman advised.
  Yira chuckled.
  “My name is Min Dohee,” she introduced. “And I have been blind all my life; I was born like this. I am twenty one years of age and I have been living on my own since I was nineteen. I have always lived alone since university, but before that I lived with my mother. My family has always just been my mother and I. She recently passed away from an unexpected . I wish to inquire you about her.”
  Yira closed her eyes. “I’m afraid the dead are not my area of expertise. I specialise in the living. Mediums and such are from a different industry.”
  “I understand,” she nodded. “But I think your reading on me is enough to help me.”
  “Then please continue,” she allowed.

  “Yes, ever since my mother passed,” she swallowed. “I… I have been sensing a presence in my house. Now, I don’t even own a pet, not even a goldfish so at first I thought it was strange. I felt eyes on me. That someone was watching me from above. In my grief, I brushed it off, thinking it to just be my imagination caused by my loss, but after I got back on my feet, I began suspecting it was my mother’s spirit.”
  “It felt like someone was with me at night,” she continued. “Like my mother was when I was a child, embracing me as I fall asleep. I also noticed some strange things, objects seemed to be misplaced. I could have sworn something was in a certain place, but then I would find it moved. I’d also hear rattles and strange, but quiet sounds like creaking floors. I decided it was just my mother watching over me, so I continued like this for almost half a year.”
  “But as of late, these strange occurrences have been escalating. They’ve become more frequent and noticeable, and I swear, I can hear my mother’s voice as whispers. Slight, but exactly like her, down to her tone, her accents, and the way her voice occasionally becomes raspy.”
  “But there’s something wrong with that isn’t there?” Yira surmised. “Your sixth sense is warning you.”
  Dohee nodded and sighed. “Somethings… not quite… Even though I can hear my mother I have questions.”
  “Your sixth sense is giving you doubt,” said Yira. “And that’s never happened to you before.”
  She nodded.
  “Your sixth sense is correct,” Yira confirmed. “Even the smallest twinge of doubt from your gut is a red alarm warning.”
  “Please,” she asked. “Tell me what is happening. What I should do.”
  Yira closed her eyes and breathed in, pausing as if concentrating. Her eyes opened and her expression became stern. The temperature of the room dropped and the air grew solemn, to the point that Taehyung could almost taste it. He felt a shiver run up his spine as he listened.
  “It is not your mother,” Yira said gravely. “Now, I want you to follow my next words to the exact letter without question. Do you understand?” she asked, placing emphasis into every syllable. “An explanation can come later.”
  Dohee hesitated, confused, but she nodded.
  Taehyung had never heard her so serious. His interest grew and his concern rose.

  “The minute you leave this room, head straight to your house,” she instructed. “Do not say a word, don’t let a single sound escape your lips. Do not mention to anyone, in any way, what you are doing, where you are going, and where you came from.”
  “I understand,” Dohee nodded.
  “Gather your things,” Yira continued, “only enough to fit in a single handbag. Just the things you need for an overnight stay such as a toothbrush. Pick a friend to stay over at and do not tell a single soul. Pick them at random and show up unannounced. Leave your house before dark and start procedures to sell your house immediately. Find a place to rent, but do not appear in public until thirty one days is over. Leave now and go fast.”
  “Yes!” she said, standing up. “I will.”
  “You can come back for an explanation later for free,” Yira told her. “But by the thirty one days, you will know.”
  “Yes, thank you!” she said as she grabbed her cane and marched out of the room, panic showing in her movements.
  She left faster than Taehyung could understand what happened. He stared in fearful awe at Yira.
  “What’s wrong with her?” he asked, pointing a hand to the door. “Is she in danger? Does she need help?”
  Suddenly, Yira shot up from her seat and slammed her hands on the table, rattling the objects atop and startling Taehyung. The smoke wavered in the air and the candles flickered.
  She shot him a stare like fire, hard and rigid. “Kim Taehyung,” she said, her voice rumbling in . “Do not go help her.”
  Taehyung was taken aback. He had never seen her like this before and a lesser man would have cowered in a corner under her glare, but he was stubborn and defensive. “Why?” he questioned. “Is she in danger?”
  “More than you can imagine,” she warned. “I’m warning you. Don’t you dare go after her. There is something wrong with this, more than you can imagine. Don’t step a foot near her.”

  Taehyung balled his hands into fists and stood tall defiantly. “If she needs help then I’m going to help her.”
  “Kim Taehyung…” she growled with the viciousness of a she wolf.
  “It’s not like I’m going to live long anyway!” he shouted, turning around and marching out.
  Suddenly, he sensed a projectile coming straight for him. In the span of a second, he twisted around and caught the object with his hands.
  “What the hell?!” he yelled.
  “Take it,” she hissed.
  He looked down and saw that the object was a necklace, an elongated piece of coloured glass hanging off a chain, a marble pattern of blue and orange shining under the lights.
  “It’s made to be broken,” she said. “Use it.”
  He had no idea what she meant but he pocketed it anyway. “Whatever,” he replied stubbornly. “I’m going.”
***
  Taehyung walked through the doorframe into the empty, white walled house. The jingle of keys came behind him as Dohee dropped her things into a glass bowl by the entrance.
  The home before him was very minimalistic. The furniture was limited to the necessities and mostly bare. To him it didn’t feel like a home, but he knew it was probably practical in Dohee's case.
  He turned around and opened his mouth but Dohee brought her finger to her lips, silently warning him not to talk. He shut his mouth and continued into the house.
  The silence was making him uneasy, the only sound being the quiet tinkle of a wind chime outside. He was suspicious as to why Yira told Dohee that she shouldn’t talk, but he couldn’t think of a reason why. As far as he could tell, there wasn’t anyone else around to hear her.
  His fingers fiddled with the necklace in his pocket, absentmindedly winding the chain around his hand as he wandered from room to room in Dohee’s one storey house. Yira’s waring rung in his ears, but like an indignant child, he brushed it off.

  Most of the rooms were fairly empty, serving little purpose except as storage space for various nick nacks. He had been asked to retrieve a jewellery box from atop a closet that was out of Dohee’s reach but so far he hadn’t found the bedroom.
  He opened another door, assuming it to be a room, but he found a small, mostly empty storage closet with only a heap of clothes in the corner. He was about to shut it when a strange smell caught his attention; like rainwater.
  Kneeling down, he prodded at the pile of clothing, finding them to be lightly damp. He found this strange as it hadn’t rained in a few days, there wasn’t any reason for them to be wet, or discarded in a closet.
  A cold fear shot up his spine, making goose bumps appear on his skin as he realised that upon closer inspection, the clothing were in men’s sizes, piled atop a pair of unlaced boots. And just beneath the heap, he could see the padded material of a sleeping bag, wrinkled as if it had just been used.
  His breathing grew shallow and his heart started beating as the implications dawned on him.

  Dohee was supposed to be living alone.

  An unknown force compelled him to look up, and cautiously, he raised his head to see tiny little holes dotting the ceiling, too perfectly circular to be the work of insects, the perfect size for a person’s eye.
  The uneasy feeling in his chest grew into full blown fear as he became acutely aware the feeling of being watched. Yira’s warning sounded in his head like war sirens and a cold sweat broke out on his skin.
  Slowly, he moved away, returning to where he left Dohee, forcing himself to act normal. He found her in the living room, obliviously arranging her bag. The small noises she made seemed magnified to Taehyung, the jingle of her keys sounding like bells, and the rustle of her bag sounding like scrapes.
  He put his hand on her shoulder and lowered his head, whispering in her ear.
  “Get out of the house now,” he urged.
  She made no reply, but she stood still and listened, her body growing tense.
  “Don’t ask why,” he continued. “Just go now. Act natural and try to get out of the house without-”  

  A crashing bang sounded from the next room followed by angry grunts and pounding footsteps.
  “Run!” he yelled, shoving Dohee out of the door.
  She screamed and stumbled out, spilling the contents of her bag onto the floor. Taehyung twisted around just in time to see a man barrelling towards him, brandishing a kitchen knife and screaming what sounded like a war cry.
  Out of instinct, Taehyung immediately dropped to the floor, the blade shaving the tips of his hair. Before he could even think, he his shoulder into the man’s chest, tackling him to the ground.
  They wrestled on the floor. Taehyung desperately tried to reach his knife but the man writhed and screeched trying to escape. His crazed ramblings were unintelligible, spitting into the air.
  Taehyung got a look of his eyes and instantly understood Yira’s warning. A twisted mind lay beneath the pools of those beady, black eyes, obsessive and unwavering in rage.
  The man kneed him in the stomach, knocking the air out of his lungs, and he was thrown to the side like a rag doll. The man crawled to his feet and kneeled over Taehyung’s groaning body, raising the knife. The blade glinted under the ceiling light before it dropped down. Taehyung rolled out of the way, only barely missing the knife as it cut into the floor.
  Balancing himself on his hands, Taehyung swept his legs under the man’s feet, tripping him and sending him crashing back into the floor. Taehyung scrambled to get away, pushing himself off the floor, but suddenly, he felt a hard blow from behind and he was shoved into a table.
  Before he could even cry out, the man gripped his throat, pinning him to the ground. He choked and coughed, his vision growing blurry. He saw death at the point of that blade, aimed at his throat. His fingers felt the chain of Yira’s necklace and he smashed the pendant against the floor, the glass shattering and leaving only a shard in his fingers.
  The man swung the knife but before Taehyung could even think, he stabbed him in the neck with the shard and blood spurted like a red fountain as he dug it deeper into his flesh.
  The knife dropped to the floor with a metallic clatter and the man stumbled back, clutching his throat. Taehyung socked him in the temple, knocking him to the ground before he dashed out of the house, running like mad onto the lawn.
  “Dohee!” he shouted, his heart pounding like a drum. “Are you okay?!”
  “She’s fine!” a man answered. He calmed down enough to see dozens of police cars in the street, the light spinning blue and red into the evening. Multiple policemen on their knees pointed a gun at the house, fingers on the trigger as dogs growled behind them, restrained tightly by the collar. 
  Dohee stood sobbing by an officer. “I called the police!” she cried, big fat tears rolling down her face. “Oh God, my mother in heaven how could I not have known? I thought it was my mother!”
  Taehyung clutched at his side as he approached her, but a calm figure walked passed him, barely noticeable as if she were a ghost. His eyes widened as he saw Yira’s long black hair sway calmly in the wind as she walked steadily into the building, the officers eyes seemed to pass over her as if she wasn’t there.
  Taehyung was stunned. Since when did Yira arrive? He turned back but before he could follow, a tall, stocky man stepped out of a police car and recognised him.
  “Taehyung?!” 
  “Dad?” he replied as he saw his father’s shocked aged face.
  The man pushed through the crowd. “What are you doing here? Did you get injured? How?”
  “J-just a bruise!” he said. “Dad, there was a man secretly living in her house! He’s still in there! He’s crazy!”

  “We can’t go in there until we assess the situation. We have the area surrounded and dogs at the ready, we will try to draw him out-”
  Taehyung stopped listening as he realised that the man was still inside, with Yira. Before his father could even finish talking, he shot off back into the house, ignoring the shouts of a dozen officers and his father for him to stop.
  The first thing he saw was the man lying face down and unconscious on the floor, the glass shard still protruding from his skin. Taehyung cautiously stepped passed him, watching him the entire time as if afraid that he would rise again like a zombie.
  He delved further into the house, but every room was empty. Over the sirens of police he could hear the faint sounds of a conversation, two voices above him.
  He found an entrance to the attic and he climbed up into the dark, dusty space where he could see Yira’s back, blocking the view of the second person.
  The giggle he heard sent a shiver up his spine. High pitched and childish, it was eerily cheery in spite of the horrific scene below them.
  “That stalker couldn’t have mimicked her mother’s voice,” said Yira, her tone lacking in all emotion. “That was all you wasn’t it?”
  “Yep!” she replied. “I just couldn’t resist adding that little extra flair. She just needed a little push to come to you or she would have lived a few more years with that loony loser in her ceiling. Not bad, Yira. Not bad.”
  Taehyung stared in shock at the girl before him. She was petite, wearing a light floral dress and old fashioned ribbons in her hair. Her eyes him and she spread out her arms as if to welcome him.
  “Taehyung!” she greeted. “Finally, our male lead has arrived! I’ve been waiting to speak with you, but I’m afraid I have a little appointment I have to meet so I can’t stay. I offer my apologies.” She clapped her hands together. “But I promise you, Taehyung,” she smiled. “I’ll give you a proper welcome next time.”
  “See you next time, Yira,” she smiled. And with a twirl like a ballerina, she dropped through the floor as if the wood was only an illusion, and she was gone.
  Taehyung dropped to the floor, his legs suddenly losing their strength. “W-what was…?”
  “Kim Taehyung,” Yira began, her tone strangely calm. “From now on if you want to live, try to take my advice.”
  She turned around and walked passed him, resting her hand comfortingly on his head. “And I suggest that you abandon the 'I won’t live long' mentality. You don’t want to die before you get your chance to live.”