After that, I sat down on the computer chair where Junhyung had slept earlier. He must have a bad cramp. Poor guy. I thought, and my nerve started to pounding when I think back the Pikachu incident, and he laughing at me.   Who does he think he is!?       

              SLAM! The door stomped closed, and a guy with black pointy hair appeared with a backpack from the back of the wall, with an innocent look. “Ahh. Glad to be here.” He sighs, looked around the house, and finally realizes my present. “Omoo.” He stepped back, “Who-who are you?”

                “Oh, annyeong haseyo.” I stood up and bowed down. Trying to look like an air stewardess welcoming their guest on plane, with my bad dress on? Ahh. Who care?

                He cleared his throat, adjusted his shirt and touch down his sideburn. “And you are...?” he asked.

                “I’m Dongwoon’s sister.” I smiled. What—why did I say that? I haven’t claimed him to be my brother yet. Ugh. What am I thinking? My heart thumped rapidly when the image of Dongwoon appeared in my mind, his smile, his sweet smell, the way he embrace me. Oh my. What is this feeling? I clutched on my chest, squeezing.

                “Yah, neo gwaenchana?” Doojoon looked down at me, putting down his bag and pulled up my head with his concern look.

                At that moment, “Hyung! What are you doing?” Dongwoon suddenly popped out from nowhere, hardly pulled Doojoon’s arm. With a furious look on him. “What have you done to her?”

                “Ah... Ani.” Doojoon grunted, pulled his arm back. “Haish. Jeongmal... She looks like she’s having a heart attack or something, suddenly grab unto her chest with a blank look and her face turned so red” He explained. What? My face turns red? This is so humiliating. I pressed on my cheek.

                “You okay?” Dongwoon asked, looked down at me.

                “Yes, I’m oka--,” I almost said when the door bell rang. Thereafter, Dongwoon quickly went to the door. I heard a familiar voice, “Can I come in?” the voice asked, a women voice. And yea, guess what. That’s mum voice. I’m 100% sure. Hey, I’m her daughter remember? I’d live with her for 17 years, until she viciously left me. Witch.

                I quickly took my step to the bedroom and locked myself in. It’s been years since I last met her, in front of my apartment door, with her luggage beside her. And I was sobbing, kneeling down, begging for her to stay. As I told you, she just left. How cruel huh? I don’t even know if she is a human.