Hello. My name is Joohyeon, and I'm Santa's little helper.

What's our job, you might ask? Well... You can say that we are inter dimensional being whose sole task is to keep an eye on little kids all around the world. Because frankly, Santa isn't omnipresent and he sure as hell wouldn't see you when you're sleeping.

So there's where I and millions of other helpers fit into the picture. To tell him if all the little boys and little girls behaved well throughout the year so that he could use all those science mumbo jumbo to subconsciously influence parents and relatives to buy Christmas presents accordingly. Remember that year when you only got a pair of socks from that one aunt you never really knew? You were a bad kid then.

We work in a very strict environment with set of rules that goes on and on and on and on. The punishment for breaking one is... Quite bad, I should say. Nightmarish even. Would you mind being tasked changing the sheets of the abhorrent Cthulhu down at the abandoned ancient city of R'lyeh? I don't.

That was why I never broke any rule. Never. In the timeless existence of our kind, I was always the teacher's pet who never spoke out of turn. Pop in my card into the ticker and off I went to work. No fuss and complains. 

Was, I told you. 

Ever wondered how a genderless, raceless, inter dimensional being got a very specific Korean female name attached to well, let's just say, herself? 

It was all because of the little light of joy in my bane of existence, that was. 

Yes. I did it all for my dear little Park Sooyoung.
 

- - - - -

Random
Rigorous
Removed

The three Rs. Or what I like to call them, the three arses. Or three asses. One of my colleagues likes to refer them by pretending to be a one eyed pirate and growling a loud 'ARRRRR'. Whatever you'd like to call them, those are the big three unbreakable rules of working as a helper.

Random. Every year we'd be randomly assigned to a household containing a kid (or several, in most cases). A rotational system that would help towards the unbreaking of the third rule. I'll get to that later.

Now for the second, rigorous. We HAVE to maintain a close watch of our assigned kids at ALL TIMES. No slacking off is accepted. One missing daily log and you might end up working janitorial duties at the ninth circle of hell. My friend once was too busy watching a program playing on the household's tv and forgot to log in their progress. They said cleaning meat scraps off a gigantic hook wasn't the greatest thing to do.

And now, the most important rule. Removed. We MUST NOT be involved with the life of the children we monitor. Being emotionally involved would mean a subjective defect on our observation. That's three month of detention right there. Physical involvement? Oh my dear, that would result in like I said, becoming a hand maid for the great Cthulhu. Observe. Yes, we only had to do that. 

For millenias, I'd breeze through my job. Maintaining a passive outlook through the thin layer of flimsy glass is easy enough when nobody bothered to ever strike a conversation with you. Besides, with the coming of the age of technology on human kind, I could pass through the otherwise uneventful days by watching programs on their television sets. 

Getting assigned into a house that has a cable tv would always result in jealous painful stabs of stares by other colleagues. 

Passive, for all these years. Trapped in the eternal task of gazing through a one sided mirror. That was why, I didn't know how to react when the little girl I was assigned with pierced through the other side of the void, looked me in the eye and said hello.
 

- - - - - 

 

"Hello?" Her voice rang throughout the empty house. 

I remember my eyes grew so wide and for the first time I felt something akin to a startled shock rushing through my vein. 

'Me?' I pointed to myself, nonchalantly turning my head to look past my shoulders. Maybe she was speaking to someone at the other side of the window I was in?

Nope, her eyes were locked to mine, to the top corner of the glass window where no man could've been. Well, unless he was a very tall gentleman with 10 tentacles as his arms. But that's another story right there. 

"What are you doing there?" Her squeaky little girl voice once again rattled the stale humid air of a summer night, "aren't you cold? Don't you wanna come in?"

Her questions came like a chain of train. Fast and blunt. No fear inside of them, where it should've been because to humans, I must've looked like something from the deepest pages of some horror movie script. 

"Me?" I spoke, for the first time, to a human. That’s like, a very big deal right there. I didn't even know if she could even hear what I said. I've never tried it before, so how should I know?

Although, it seemed like she did hear me, as she gave a curt nod as an answer, "who else, miss?"

"Miss?" I wondered, did I look like a female human? Humanoid I was, but the smoky form that our species have surely didn't have any defining feature like how human es do. "Why miss?" With curiosity, I decided to ask her further.

She reached out for her long hair and grabbed a handful. Swinging it around, she exclaimed, "your hair is long."

So simple... 

"Unless, you're a boy with a long hair? My friend told me he wants to have a long hair when he's old so I guess boys can also have long hair?" She rambled on.

I figured she talking with her neck tilted back in an extreme angle would soon discomfort her little neck, so I glided down the panes of glass to meet her in her own little eye level. 

"I've seen you watching through the window all this time," she nonchalantly confronted me, "what are you doing? Aren't you bored?"

Did she really? Have I missed her past fleeting glances? At that moment I wondered if my observation skills were starting to rust. To be fair, I love to perch on the top corner of my viewing tower to get the best vantage point. Her quaint looks would not get my attention right away because of that. And I must admit the past few weeks flew by in a blur thanks to that new drama series. Turns out I was utterly captivated on the wrong subject in this house. 

Anyways, I contemplated on what I should give to her as an answer. Does she even believe in santa? I didn't see her parents put up any religious paraphernalia on any of the walls or mantel pieces. Hah, haven't even seen her parents in that first two months of my watch. A miraculous feat this tiny wonder managed to still be alive and breathing. And also, speaking to me.

Speaking about speaking, or the lack thereof from my side, the little girl came upon her own conclusion of what she wanted me to be, "are you my guardian angel?"

Ew. No. I'm not a guardian angel. In no ways do I ever want to be associated with those lazy asses who never did their job properly. Ever. But looking at her exuberant enthusiast wait for my confirmation, I couldn't say no. How could I say no to that wide smile of hers? 

And so I said yes.

She jumped up and down, while clapping her hands wildly, "will you come in and play with me? I want to show you sooooo many stuffs!" 

She then motioned for me to follow her to her bedroom, still while doing tiny little excited jumps, "pleaseeee? It'll be so fun!"

I should've said no. Nope. No thanks. Then file a complain to the head office and ask for a deportation. 'Sorry mam, the little girl I'm working at started to talk to me.' Walk away. Now. Why didn't I walk away?

Why did I say yes?
 

- - - - -

I didn't know the true job of a guardian angel was to accompany this little girl, Sooyoung, she told me her name was, in all her fascinating play times.

"My name is Sooyoung. My friends call me Yonggi. It sounds cool so I like it," she casually spoke while she was busy scribbling across a blank piece of paper with a purple crayon, "what about you miss?"

Name. Name name name. I don't have a name, not one that those humans categorize as a 'name', that is. We only have a string of dots that signified us from one another. Weird, I know.

And so I just shook my head, "I don't have a name."

Sooyoung looked like what I said just violated the essence of her existence, "WHAT?! How come?!"

I only pouted my lips and shrugged in response.

"Can I name you then?" Just like how she already did it in the past every time she became excited, Sooyoung jumped and clapped her hands together.

"I'm not your pet, you know?" I hoped my delivery didn't sound as sarcastic as how I intended it to be. Seemed it wasn't, as Sooyoung's gleam was still there when I looked back at her.

"You're my guardian angel, so I need your name so that I can call you whenever I need to!"

I was rendered silent for a bit, "that's... Actually pretty clever!"

With my approval, she beamed even brighter. Leaping to her feet, she skipped in circles for a while with her index finger ed into the air. Thinking for a fitting name for me, I guessed.

"Joohyeon. Miss Joohyeon is the best teacher at school and you're so nice to me too, that's why. Can I name you after her?" She rushed to the ledge of the window and kneeled so that she had to look up to meet my eyes, amplifying the cute, pleading puppy factor that was already so present even if she didn't try, "pleaseeeee."

"Okay!" Once again I was defeated. Whole millennia of training to be detached and one puppy look defeated me. How shameful.

"Juyon," the name at first rolled down my tongue awkwardly. 

"Yes, that's it. Joohyeon!" She tried to help me pronounce it correctly.

"Joohyon...?" Second time around, it still felt unnatural.

My confusion sure did bring further joy to her face, shining bright with a loud giggle, "come on, surely it's not that hard? Joohyeon!"

It was weird. Twisty long U that didn't sound like U followed with a sudden deep plunge at the second syllable, and also the weird N that was stuck at the back of my throat. Did I even say it right? But the way little Sooyoung said it made it sound so nice. So melodious, "Joohyeon..." She loves it, and that left me no choice but to love it too, "It's beautiful. I like it."

"Yey! That's whata 'bout!" She reached out and gave my hand a high five. Well, more like she smacked the window so loud it reverberated through the wooden sill, but it was the thought that counts. And just as quickly as the subject of names came to attention, it dissipate away when Sooyoung went back to her drawings of purple flying sofas. Humming a random tune, head bobbing from side to side. Smiles. Happy.

Yes. That smile. I'd do anything to keep it there on its place. I've known her just for a what... A few days? But I'd do anything. I'd do anything for her.  Even if that means being deported to a dimension of Euclids.

Is this... What it feels like to be a parent? If it was, then they've robbed me of so much. Why. Why would they do that?

To keep us efficient, I guess.

- - - - -

 

One day. It was all that it took for that endless orange sky to be replaced with a rolling cloud of rainstorm and thunder. 

She didn't even bother to greet me, like how she'd used to do in the past few months, she ran straight to her bed and buried her face onto the plush comfort of her pillow. The only thing I couldn't ever provide to her, I guess. Warmth and comfort.

"Yonggi," I tried calling out to her, "what's wrong?"

For a few minutes the room was filled with my one sided attempts of coaxing her out. She was sobbing. I could hear the muted sniffles and I could see it through the rigid movements of her shoulders. 

After a quarter of an hour passed and ended with failure, I couldn't quell my impatience any longer and almost consider stepping away from behind the safety glass and finally see once and for all what earth atmosphere's going to do to our kind. Won't be a pretty sight but I was desperate.

Thankfully, Sooyoung began to stir into a seating position, declining the chance of her room being blown up to bits in a methane gas explosion, probably. "Hello Yonah," she attempted to greet me in her usual ways, "how's your day?"

"How's YOUR day?" I turned her question to herself. Turns out not to be the best course of action when dealing with an emotional 7 years old, as she began to quietly cry again. 

But that time, she decided to not bear the burden alone. Sooyoung began walking to the windowsill where she'd spent so many of her time telling stories from the endless pot of imagination in her brain. That time, she decided to tell me something real.

"I told my class about you today... They didn't believe me," she sniffled, "my teacher he… He told me that I'm a… Big fat liar."

How dare they. How dare they say that to her. Don't they know that their windows are also filled with one of my kind, watching every intake of their breaths?! They probably don't though...

"They asked me for a proof and I gave them a drawing of you," as she said it, Sooyoung showed me a crumpled piece of paper. It was previously torn to shreds, only to be meticulously put back together with a clear sticky tape. On it was a... Would I sound vain if I told you on the paper was a picture of a rather beautiful young woman with long flowing light pink smoke as her hair? No, no I won't, because that truly was what I saw. 

"Beautiful," there was no hint of hesitation when I told her so.

Sooyoung looked at me with doubt in her expression. As if she was questioning my words.

“Hey, I’m your guardian angel. I’m not going to lie to you. Ever,” I spun around after saying that, a maneuver that Sooyoung never seemed to get tired of. She said it made me look like a whirlwind of cotton candy. I guessed that was a good thing? “Besides, I am beautiful.”

When she finally laughed again, a glob of snot followed suit from one of her nostrils. I didn’t care, though. She didn’t seem to care either, as it only made her laughter grew louder.

“Screw those kids!” She gave her small arms a pitiful flail, what I suppose was an attempt of showing a punching gesture, “screw Mr. Han!”

“Yea! Screw them!” I joined in with her rally, dancing around in a movement that almost resembles a tantrum, although we did it with much more class and less screaming. She finally dropped still after running out of fuel at 10 PM, slumping at the corner of her bed with half of her legs dangling off.

It was a chilly autumn night and she wasn’t sleeping with her blanket on. She was going to freeze anytime soon… Yup just like that, a shiver ran through her body. But I couldn’t help her. I couldn’t go out there and tuck her in. Maybe give her a goodnight kiss on her forehead too, that seems to be a hot thing on the tv shows.

I couldn’t help her. And that was damn frustrating.

- - - - -

 

Days passed and the storm didn’t seem to. The clouds dissipate a bit, yes, but nothing more than occasional slivers of sunrays ever pass through the tight bundle of grey matter. I asked her what’s wrong. So many times. Too many.

“All’s okay Yonah,” was all the answer she ever gave me, and that’s far from enough!

I tried going around the house in an effort to find out what was going on with her. 360 degrees vantage point, you know? In the end, I did find something odd. Or didn’t find, actually. The fact that I failed to see her surreal drawings anywhere. Usually they’d be splattered all over the place. On the fridge, under the sofa, on the dining table… But nope! None to be seen.

She kept shut all the time. She refused my offers of our favourite late night chats, opting to burrow deep within her duvet blanket instead. She vehemently ignored me when I pointed at her box of crayons, encouraging her to draw again, choosing to do her school homework with her curtains drawn.

Our contact grew more and more scarce, until by the end of the month, she managed to completely ignore me. I guessed I should’ve accepted that, resetting our relationship into the initial ‘strictly business’ style. But after all that I’ve been through because of her… Hell no.

After one week of her giving me cold shoulders, I couldn’t take it anymore.

I unleashed hell. Well, my definition of hell at that moment was screaming her name in an annoyingly high pitch whine for 3 straight hours. I only stopped when she asked me to. When she finally opened the curtain for her bedroom’s windows and yelled for me to stop, of course I did straight away.

The room suddenly became so silent after my piercing voice ceased to exist. Sooyoung seemed to have a hard time addressing the situation, her brows furrowed and eyes darting all around the place.

I couldn’t believe the next sentence that came from .

“You’re not real.”

It was then my turn to be silent. To have my eyelids stretched so wide open it stung. For the first time in centuries, they stung.

“You’re just in my head and I’m seeing you when nothing’s there...”

“Who told you that...”

“I don’t want to see you anymore! I want you gone!”

“Who told you that?”

“They told me they will take me to the hospital if I don’t make you go away! So go away!”

“WHO TOLD YOU THAT?!”

When the rattling of the glass calmed down after my booming voice rumbled the house, Sooyoung took a deep breath and whispered, “mom… Dad too… And Mr. Han…”

She stared at her feet for a while, swaying from side to side and taking several fleeting glances toward my vicinity. I could tell she wanted to ask me ‘the’ question, but was discouraged by her embarrassment for trying to ignore my presence this past few days. So I helped her out by stating it myself.

“I am real,” I then tried to find the words to explain to her about the existence of parallel dimensions, alternate timeline, astral planes, inter dimensional beings, et cetera, et cetera. But I knew her small cranium wouldn’t withstand all that knowledge. She either would go crazy from all the revelations, or would just yawn while saying, “Eh…"

“Open your mind and believe,” in the end, I opted for some encouraging words, ”there are so many things out there that you can see, that can happen, that exists… You only need to open your mind.” I’m no charismatic public speaker, but she seemed to be visibly uplifted after I finished my sloppy speech.

She took a step closer with the familiar smile back on her face, “Yonah… Can I ask something from you?”

“Anything for you dear.”

“Will you hug me?”

Anything but that… Dear.
 

- - - - -

Ok I know I couldn’t hug her, but there was something else that I could do. Using my wide connections to my advantage.

With a streak of luck, I found out that Mr. Han, the stupid teacher that'd done something so scarring toward my little Sooyoung that she decided to completely extinguish her young kindling love for art, has a kid that was being monitored by someone I knew.

And so, during the bi-yearly annual ‘call your species’ day, I rang up an old friend, Helper no. 24601, or Agent W, as they liked to be called (because they took a special likings to the movie Man in Black), and asked for a favor, “Yo! Agent W! Let’s do a house switch.”

They sounded unsure. Like, almost a minute pause of unsure, unsure. The next time they talked, the voice that came out was an octave higher, “but… the last time I did that, I ended up cleaning meat scraps… Off some hooks…”

Yep this pal was the one who got send down to be the janitor for the ninth circle of hell. Did it all just to catch a special screening of ‘Independence Day’. They love Will Smith. Forgive them.

“Come on W, help a friend here!” I whined back at them, “you’d only be in duty for like what… The next few days? The kid will go to college at Friday isn’t it?”

Another extra trivia for the job of Santa’s helpers. Once you turn 18, you’re out of the equation. You’d be the one buying presents for you siblings, you cheap broke lazy asses.

“Pleaseeeee?”

“All right! All right! You can have it all!” They sighed in exasperation, “tell me your kid is asleep all the time?”

Whoops, I told them I disconnected before I heard that line. They were surely in for a treat with minxy little Sooyoung.

Now with W out of the equation, I just needed to reach out for another old friend of mine. Last time we met, he accidentally stalked the house I monitored. Where was it… Salt Lake city? I told him numerous times to stop targeting little kids under the age of 18.

‘You’d scar them!’ I scolded him. He could do nothing but to hung his head low, mumbling yesses and promises to stop, ‘target those college kids! They all love a bit of a cheap thrill don’t they? Give them some! They’re more entertaining frightened anyway.’

Aha! There you go. Bob’s cell phone number he once handed me. “Call me if you’re lonely.”

What a cute being he was, Bob.

One wonders how he could pick up the phone when he has no arms…

 

- - - - -

“Helper 212, now you stood before us in a hearing regarding your reckless behaviour,” the judge’s voice reverberated throughout the massive coliseum. I should be embarrassed, but I did my job well. So really, I had nothing to lose.

“For getting emotionally involved with the child you monitor, 3 months probation,” I thoughtfully nodded as they went through the long list of rules I broke. I could see my friend, agent W, the only one nice enough to still stood by my side after everyone’d ran away in a herd of gossip. W were biting their nails at the verges of the trial area. To be fair, they were also subjected to a 6 months probation for aiding my ‘exquisitely macabre’ plan.

“For doing an unauthorized house switch with Helper 24601, one round of public health safety service,” she kept on droning, kept on going. Me, I’m bored. I just want to immediately go away and clock my service time, but it seemed the other Helpers who were watching my high profile trial ate up the words with fervent interest.

“For… Contacting other species and asking for help to do… um…” The judge seemed to have such a hard time finding a more socially acceptable term for ‘terrorizing the out of a human being’. Shout out to you Bob, you’re the best. In the end, they settled for a vaguely normal, “unauthorized scouting mission, voluntary admittance to a three month medical experiment by Dr. Caligari.”

What were they even trying to hide? If I were them, I’d say it like this, ‘asking the assistance of B.O.B, officially known as Brutal Obscene Beast, to mentally and physically scar the life of Han Seungchul. Reducing him into nothing more than a rampaging madman whose future is completely destroyed because he’s confined to a mental institute for life.’

“For causing a near fatal accident in a human household, three months serving at the cafeteria.”

Hah, for rigging the most elaborate gas leak-slash-‘accidental’ 4 feet tall fireball that caused the child support agency to blame Sooyoung’s parents for acts of negligence and giving her custody to her far more supportive and physically present relatives?

Score.

“And lastly,” here it goes, “for physically meddling with the life of the child you were supposed to be monitoring, one life cycle of serving as a hand maid for the great Cthulhu.”

The whole coliseum erupted with handclaps and whistles. Why, they seemed to be completely entertained. One major bang in an eternal life time. I guessed that was good enough.

I was immediately dragged to my first punishment in a list of some, for three months serving gloopy black matter onto the trays of some crustacean species that worked at the logistics department of Santa’s major corporation. They told me they’d live on the deepest darkest depth of Atlantic ocean before a sudden clap of a pistol shrimp granted them level 5 consciousness.

Anyways.. My punishments were boring. I wasn’t here to tell you about them. I was here to tell you about Sooyoung’s story. And it’s been a while since we heard about her, eh?

Today, they let me out. Finally. Agent W waited for me beyond the pearly gates of R’lyeh with a nervous smile on their face.

“Are you sure you wanna do it?” As indicated by their voice that shot up a few pitches higher than normal, Agent W asked me with worry, “you know it might be… Permanent.”

“I know,” I didn’t even hesitate when answering them back, “you’ve met her, didn’t you? Haven’t she changed at least a tiny bit of how you look at everything?”

Their eyes shifted around, trying to hide the tears that were starting to well in their eyelids, “yes, but… This might not be the right answer.”

“’Might’ won’t fulfill my longings, W,” seeing that they were still adamant about my whole ‘phase 2’ of sudden rebellion, I could only sigh, “look. I’m not asking you to do anything for me. Not anymore. I just need you to take me up there. Please.”

After that, I did something unthinkable. I touched their arms. We never touched. Our species doesn’t need the sense of touch, as our smoke tendrils acted as a heightened version for that type of sensation. But we still have fingers, and arms, I don’t know when evolution’s gonna catch up with us and render us into a slithering blob of wisp, but we still have those things. And that day, I decided to use them again.

We didn’t feel anything different, true. They were vestigial, still there for the matter of physical aesthetic, I suppose. It just seemed to act as an awakening for us. A much needed jolt of shock.

“Please, W. I need to see her,” I pleaded. I hate that I did it, but… It worked.

“All right, all right. You can always have it your way.”

- - - - -

Her new house was huge. With tall ceilings and equally tall windows. Damn. Will she ever saw me? I didn’t even know if she could still hear my voice, looking that such a stretch of time had separated us.

I asked W. She was 20 years old. Thirteen years it took me to complete all that tedious work. How time flies…

I wandered around a bit, alone, as W was too scared to venture further than the front window. Well, their loss, my gain. Room by room I traversed, finding nothing peculiar or even a single human soul, for that matter. Empty bedroom, empty kitchen, empty living room. Until I think I heard something move from the closed room at the end of the corridor. Sounds of woods clanking with thin metal, fabric dragged against fabric, splatters. Someone was drawing. Sooyoung?

Not wanting to put myself in prolonged mystery, I quickly dashed from my position to the window inside the closed room. And there she was, bathed in the waning light of day, painting with the window standing tall in front of her. What did she saw, what did she got from looking through the veil?

Her eyes darted up from the canvas, only to suddenly halt when she caught mine. For a moment there was nothing, not even a crinkle of plastic from underneath her feet, as she seemed to try to process the sight she’d fallen upon. That silence was contrasted when the metal palette on her hands fell to the floor, clamoring and sending splatters of paints in all shades of pink to the corners of the room.

“Yonah?” it began as a whisper, before it grew into manic shouts, “Joohyeon?! Oh my god Yonah you came back!”

She rapidly tapped her hands onto the glass, more like banged on them, and excitedly rambled, “I thought you were gone! I thought you were… I… I never thought of seeing you again!”

When she’d started to calm down considerably, I knew it was my turn to talk. But all I could muster up was a measly, “how are you doing Yonggi?” Don’t. Cry. Don’t. No. You were there to comfort her. Let her cry. Not you. The comforter never cries. Don’t start.

Like how we’d spent so many of our nights together, she kneeled down and placed her palm on the window, “I’m good. I’m so good. I’m great.”

I don’t know what else to say, as by looking around, I knew she was doing well. Her drawings had evolved, from messy scratches of oil crayon to intermingling flow of colours and fluid shapes. What I love so much was that they haven’t lost that weird as hell essence she’d been carrying. She also looked healthy. Glowing face, wide eyes, well nourished. Unlike how she looked when I first saw her.

And so we kneeled, face to face. She sniffled with tears streaming down her face, and I smiled with my best effort to not break down into something akin to her.

“Yonggi, did you remember? When you were little you asked me for this one favor,” Sooyoung’s face scrunched up when she was trying to remember what she might’ve said. But before she recalled anything, a thought went into her head and she leaned back while waving her hands as if she was refusing.

“No. No more favor! You’ve done too much Yonah.”

I raised my index finger to tell her that I still had a bit more to follow, “I couldn’t do it at the time, which was very frustrating, but that was because I was afraid I’d hurt you. But now… Now I know I can.”

I flicked my hands, motioning her to take a few steps back. She seemed reluctant, but her curiosity finally caused her defeat. She did it with unease, but she did it nevertheless. And so I started my plan. Simple. I was going to step out from the window.

No, there wasn’t going to be a massive explosion caused by matter imbalance. No, nobody’s going to die from gaseous poison. Nobody’s going to be harmed… But me. It turned out that mere wind from planet earth was enough to corrode the atoms that formed my body.

And I did it all just to give her one last hug.

She seemed to know what my action cost me. Whether it was pure instinct, or because her sharp mind had told her nobody could exist much longer when they looked like they were dissolving into the air.

Her arms around me closed even tighter, like she was trying to hold some last bit from dispersing off to nothing. “Why?” She whispered to me.

I know right? Why? We could’ve had it all. Become a partner in crime, best friend in life, anything but me disappearing in a very dramatic act right in front of her. But she’d changed me. And I can’t live my life just being a helper any longer. And I can’t also escape from the clutches of the corporation for so long. It’s a selfish act, a very selfish act. But I want to do it while I could still remember her… Like I could ever forget her anyway. The whole knowledge of the cosmos I knew but I could never forget her.

“Look at me,” I tried to sound as cheery as possible. Pointing her to my billowing aura, puffing off to the sky with the afternoon sun seeping through. Purple. Orange. Green, “I’ll be your masterpiece.”

The last thing I could hear from her before my ears disappeared was a silent Thankyou. A happy Thankyou, as she said it with a laughter and a ball of snot shooting from her nostril.

All I could say before my mouth dissipated was a small goodbye. “Goodbye, my child.” To be exact. My child… I think it’s more fitting how I, as her ‘parent’, her ‘guardian’, pass on before her. I wanted to see her grow old, I really do. But people die everyday… What if? I couldn’t bear to see it happen. Besides, by now the corporate polices must’ve noticed my absence from the parole radar. If they ever caught me again… Lest to say, it won’t end well for us. Not me, not Sooyoung, not even for my dear agent W. It’s better that she remembered me at the state I wanted her to. Beautiful.

And off I went, only a consciousness drifting with the stars. How did I even manage to get this written down, I don’t even know.

Maybe I’d get recycled into something new. Maybe I could see her again.

Till then…