Rummaging through his pocket, his eyes grew wide as his fingers closed around something metallic. “I almost forgot about this...”  Jiyong smiled weakly, rubbing the reflective surface of the metal with his finger, and then clasping the antique locket in his hands. His smile quivered though, when he recalled what happened that led him to this miserable state.

Jiyong was abandoned at the mere age of 5. He had never expected himself to be seeing his parents for the last time as they waved goodbye to their son at the school gate, brilliant smiles etched on their faces. The duo had walked out of the school after that – and out of Jiyong’s life. His parents did not come for him when it was dismissal time, and thereafter Jiyong was made to stay at a place filled with children like him - no parents coming to fetch them - for a reason he did not know. He constantly asked questions, like Why am I here? and Where are my parents?, but there were never answers.

It was only until 9 when the truth was revealed to him. He remembered crying days and nights, holding the silver locket in his hands as he cried – the only memorabilia his mother left him. Inscribed on the locket was the word, ‘Hope’, and that was what he was going to do for the rest of his life. Hoping, yearning to see his parents again, to ask for the reason of his abandonment, and then reuniting as a family.

Sure, Jiyong was crushed when he learnt about the truth. But as the days go by, he wondered why his loving parents would abandon him without a single word spoken, and he convinced himself that they had a viable reason to do so then.

When Jiyong was adopted by his distant relatives at the age of 10, they moved to Seoul, a bustling and lively city. Having convinced that he was going to lead a better life, he worked hard to achieve his lifelong dream – going around the world to search for his parents.

But life was indeed cruel and inconceivable. A few months ago – just after turning 17 – his relatives ran away to escape a lawsuit, without leaving a single cent for the poor boy.

And that was what led to the current Kwon Jiyong – homeless and penniless. Jiyong exhaled shakily, his hand running through his blonde locks. His lids were getting heavy, and his vision was becoming limited. The festive lights that hung around the buildings became a blur, just like the thoughts in his mind.

This is it, he thought, dropping his arms feebly to his sides. I’m going to die here, alone, hungry and cold. This is how my life would end.

He let out a maniacal laugh as he derived at that thought. Perhaps the loneliness and despair he felt have lead to frenzy. He had no home, no friends. And no family, the thought striking him like a pebble hitting the surface of calm water. It was misery and torture, and every day was like a battle for Jiyong. A battle that was impossible to win.

He just could not fight any longer. Giving in to his body, he started to close his eyes as a solitary tear slid down his frozen cheek, the silver stripe glistening in the glow of the moonlight.

Just as Jiyong was about to drift into unconsciousness, he heard slow, steady footsteps, and then a smooth voice whispering in his ear.

“I finally found you.”