BGM: Ready or Not by Bridgit Mendler

---

I woke up with a headache.

Again.

Seriously, these headaches are killing me.

I sluggishly stood up, washed my face in the sink and went out to the door to pick up my daily paper when I saw some men carrying some stuff in the apartment across mine.

It’s been years since someone occupied that unit. I asked the caretaker about the previous tenant as the flat’s been vacant for a very long time and my curiosity’s killing me. He said the last boarder died from a car accident and the air surrounding inside seems to be so eerie that when prospect lessees try to look at it, they tense and get afraid resulting to the unoccupied space. I sort of feel bad when I heard it. The caretaker is a nice ahjussi; too bad his business needs some séance or something. He told me he tried doing crazy deals- from hiring exorcist to cleaning the place with holy water. But it’s like the place has its own life, like it doesn’t want to be with anyone. It was as if the room itself is attached to its former owner and no one can inhabit that space other than the previous owner. Talk about loyalty.

So here I was, snooping at the small slit I made with my door to try to see what this commotion is all about.

Pink sofa, pink lampshade, pink bed sheets, pink bed, pink curtains, pink cabinet, pink frames, pink coffee maker, pink toaster, pink plates, pink kitchen utensils, pink flowers,