Eleven were victims of a three-way-car-accident; ten died that day but the one most deserving of death lived.

It was fifteen years ago when Jiae was forced to bid her parents, older sister, younger brother, aunt, baby cousin, maternal and paternal grandparents farewell forever. Not only was her lone survival miraculous, but her presence left bad tastes in people’s mouths. In a matter of time, her acquaintances and neighbor dubbed her the star-crossed child - and she thought she had the coolest nickname in the world.

Against her knowledge, a ten-year-old Jiae was constantly transported from orphanages to another. It was only through bullying that she learned the harsh reason behind it—the grown-ups were avoiding adopting her and consistently boycotted any place she could call home. So for eight dreadful years, that was little Jiae’s life before she was old enough to look after herself.

At least, that was what the world expected from her and anyone her age. To go out and make something greater of themselves. Except, no one truly wanted Jiae in the spotlight as they were afraid of her. Terrified of what other possible evil she would unleash if they let their guards down and try to like her.

While they were isolating themselves from her, they were unaware that Jiae was slowly warming up to a solitary life. She spoke less, smiled less, and cried more.

She couldn’t fathom why she was blamed for her family’s death. She didn’t kill them. She was minding her own business in the middle-backseat of the eleven-passengers-van her parents rented and in between her paternal grandparents when her father rear-ended the truck in front. Behind them an identical truck struck them from behind, instantly killing her aunt, younger brother, and baby cousin. Not only did it killed three but its impact also scooted the car farther into the first truck’s trailer which in return suffocated her parents. As for her grandparents, not wearing their seatbelts and being ejected led them to their deaths.

Fortunate enough, Jiae was picked up by a blind elderly woman who happened to have a spared shack, which said to have belonged to her disabled middle-aged son before he died of a .

The tiny space was nothing fancy but it had what Jiae needed, a closet, a toilet, bathtub, at-best-room-temperate fridge, and a bedroom with a creaky bed. The yellowish wallpaper that was once white had started to peel from the top, just below the moldy ceiling. The carpet has dark, black spots that she wouldn’t be able to tell you what it was or used to be. Best of all, Jiae shared the place with roaches. She was so used to the horrendous pests that she wouldn’t jump and retaliate at the thought of them crawling across her skin. And as if her life wasn’t already unpleasant and unimproved, she also developed the ability to see ghosts.

It was the week she turned twenty, that she a girl spirit started showing up in front of her. At first, it happened in small hallucinations. She would mistake a chair for a seated person when it was dark in the room. She would see someone popping their head into her room when her door was left open. If a bird flew by her window when the sun was up, it would look like someone ran by.

As the week progress, the ghost’s appearance became more apparent. Soon Jiae could make out the pinkish oversized knit pullover and later the turtleneck that appeared to be hiding the neck that has been slit. It wasn’t until Jiae squat down to pick up the onion she had dropped when she got a good look at the girl.

In front of her, she noticed the worn out gray tennis shoes and bruised legs that looked ill and green. When she looked up, she didn’t expect the girl to bend over her. It was only for a second but the image was instilled into her mind. The girl’s long greasy hair hung over Jiae, her eyes had been gouged out with blood flowing down her cheeks, and her right ear had been cut and was hanging. The nameless also kept her hands close to her chest and in the form of claws; there was dried blood on her fingertips and nails. And she lacked facial expressions and was rather stiff and calm. 

On the first encounter, Jiae hid between her legs until the day was over. She thought it would be the last she had seen of the taciturn spirit, but when she got home she saw it again. The girl was standing in the doorway of her room, revealing only half of herself. When Jiae spotted her, she squeezed her eyes shut and cover her face. She waited for the spirit to leave.

When she peeked through her fingers to scan the room, she realized she was alone again. Afraid and tempted, Jiae every light in her home—the one ceiling lamp in the living room and one lamp in her bedroom. Since the bathroom had no light and the little hallway to it was pitched black, Jiae didn’t dare use the restroom until it was morning again.

For three weeks, Jiae left the lights on throughout the night so she could actually sleep. She also stopped visiting the blind grandmother for any leftovers as she had no appetite and the grandmother never came over to check up on her. In fact, her water and electricity were cut off after the month was over.

As the nights grew darker, Jiae spent her waking hours weeping if she wasn’t sleeping. Nothing came out of it, she was conscious of that, but it was something to do. At least only then, she wouldn’t have to keep her eyes open to see what she didn’t want to see.

For a month, she couldn’t help but envy the elder lady. When the grandmother finally paid her a visit, Jiae mustered up the courage to ask, “Do you miss seeing?”

The white-haired lady simply smiled as she readjusted her hand on the grip of her cane and said, “I don’t remember what it was like to see. I have no memories. I have no stories to share. I don’t miss what I never saw, child,”

After the woman left, Jiae wondered what was so different about them. She ma