"This is my chance...my only chance." The spirit watched Minji leave the room as she soon shifted her attention to the crafted portrait.

The eyes, the hair, the clothing, the whole features of this portrait almost seems as if a picture was taken instead. This was the perfect opportunity for the spirit. Countless of times she had tried to find something which she can merge into and now with this realism portrait, she can finally use this to shape herself into human form. It's not exactly her actual original human form, but at least she will come to life and be able to take her revenge.

Yes, her revenge on the woman who took over her life. Literally.

"I'll get rid of you, even to the point where I have to turn myself into a replica just to get you out of my original body." The spirit proclaimed to herself as she traces her hands around the portrait, absorbing all the qualities to the point where she no longer feels translucent.

To the point where she can finally feel a sense of grip. A sense of breathing. A sense of her feet being pulled by gravity to touch the floor. A sense of a heart pounding against her chest as to feel like she rose up from the dead once more.

"Snap out of it." She tried to speak with her voice, but so far it seems like she hasn't fully taken all of what a human functions from. After all, she only took this form from a portrait, and portraits in itself do not speak. Most of the time portraits were made to create a visual for the satisfaction of people's eyes rather than for other senses.

Fortunately for her though, she was able to move her replicated body, though after being a spirit for so long, she had a difficult time controlling her movement as she trips over herself clumsily.

Pain.

"Ow! Ugh, stupid body." Slightly shaking, she lifts herself back up, slowly getting used to controlling this body's movement. Reaching for the door knob, she turns it into the right angle before giving the door a push to open it.

She knew exactly what her plan would be first in order to get her original body back. She needed to make any sort of food that included ingredients of medicine which can make her original body fall into unconciousness. That was the only way that she would be able to confront 'her.'

'She' has stolen her life. 'She' has tricked her to it. The 'she' who is in Joohyun's body is not the real Joohyun. The spirit who had taken form of the replicated form is the real Joohyun. Though due to 'her' influences, the real Joohyun does not remember her name nor any other memories besides her memories with 'her'.

"Okay. Time to cook." Although she says this in her mind, she isn't exactly the best cook out there. If anything, she's one of the worst ones out there, unlike the current 'Joohyun' who is an exceptional cook. Using the counter to support herself, she moves until she is standing in front of the fridge. Opening the fridge, she sees variety of  ingredients organized neatly together. The options she had for cooking were endless, making it difficult for her to decide on what to truly cook.

"Hm..lets try making fried chicken." Thinking this, she grabs the pack that contained chicken legs.

In the middle of letting the chicken fry itself, she looks at the whole kitchen structure itself, a quick 3 second flashback passes her mind. The flashback was too quick that the only thing she could remember about it was seeing a pink pok-a-dot apron. Trying her best to remember as much of her past as she can, she forgot about her cooking as the chicken was beginning to become overcooked, to the point where it's completely burnt.

It was only when her sense of smell kicked in that she noticed the burnt chicken. Not wanting the fire alarm to go off, she panicked and grabbed ahold of the pan, only to then feel her hands burn from the extreme heat.

"Ahh! Sh-" Stopping herself from cursing to oblivion, she bit her lip, griping onto her hand as she tried to calmly turn off the stove, grabbing an oven mitten to hold the pan this time. She brings the pan containing the burnt chicken to the sink.

"Tch. I bet she doesn't like chicken anyway."

Thinking about it, this sort of pain wasn't compared to the pain of losing her memories. The emotional pain of feeling like your mind is empty is much worse. It's almost as if someone beside her is asking 'What is the purpose of your existence?'

"Alright, let's try cooking something sweet this tim