I used to believe that everything happens for a reason. I used to believe that when bad things happen, good things will come after. I used to think that bad people becomes bad because bad things happen to them and I believed that society should not judge one’s sincerity by the things they have done. I was made to believe that flowers bloom in all seasons and a glass won’t break even if it falls. The sun shines when it is happy and the cloud rains when it is sad. When the cloud is heavy with tears, it will rain so the sun can shine later to brighten up the day. I was made to believe in that. I used to live by a philosophy I made , which is good things happen to good people.

If only that philosophy was wrong from the start, I would not have be angry at the world. However, who am I to evaluate the genuinity of my self-made philosophy when I can’t live day by day with it.

“Excuse me, excuse me,” I pushed the high school students out of the way and they started murmuring and I finally earned a spot in the train, well not actually a spot like a seat but I’m in the train. It was a mistake to go home at peak hour where everybody is going home from school and work. My eyes wandered searching a for seat since my legs are tired from all the walking I did today and there it was! I pushed my way through the crowd and by the time I reached there, a young girl was already sitting there. Great.

I sighed in annoyance and stood there holding the rail, holding my legs virtually so it won’t break into pieces.

After 20 minutes in the train, we reached the end of the line and there were fewer people compared from before. I exited the train and unplugged my earphones, suffocated by the coating of it and suddenly my shoulder was intensively pushed by a mug running with a handbag, running as if he was being chased by a bulldog.

“What the hell...” I bent down to pick up my bag and like a lightning, a red sneaker flew right before my face and landed feets away from me. I quickly look to my right and found a one-shoed girl pointing at the mug and it finally came to me that the girl’s handbag was snatched and suddenly a few high school students ran in front of my face, chasing the thief.

Still numb to the situation, I stayed there doing nothing. I looked to my right again and I saw the girl sitting on the bench, looking straight ahead blankly. I picked up her red sneaker and made my way to her.

“Is this yours?” I showed it to her.

“....” and she nodded.

I placed the sneaker right next to her right foot and waited for her to say something.

After a few seconds, she realised I was still hanging around there and looked at me, with a question mark plastered on her face.

“You have nothing to say?” I asked and suddenly she started becoming restless, as if she was searching for something but then gave up and sighed.

“Okay..” I left.

“Kai! Kai!” I turned around upon hearing my name and only saw the girl staring at the floor.

“Oi miss! Did you call me?” she ignored me to then I noticed that she was crying. I turned around back and saw the high school students from before came back with a bag. They were searching the handbag and brought out only a notebook and a casing.

“He ran off with the purse..” one of them said but the young girl only grabbed the casing, took something out of it and plugged it in her ear and suddenly beamed with a smile.

“Urrr, he ran off with the purse..” and her head went straight up, finally responding to a sentence. She made a gesture as if it is okay and kept on bowing to the high school students, making them awkward and embarrassed.

“It’s okay.. Go home safely,” they said and bowed.

I was the only spectator there but I felt as if I was invisible and both of the parties left the subway station. As I was walking, I noticed that I was paving the same way home with the girl. Time after time passed by and we were still walking the same path and we reached the same the building. I reached the elevator room but the girl was no longer there.

Whatever.

When I was about to press the elevator, a hand snapped my hand.

“Ow!” I yelled. It was the young girl.

Suddenly she started making weird hand gestures and kept on pointing at my face.

“Woah woah woah! Ahjumma!” I shoved her hand away.

She took a notebook out of the recently found handbag and started scribbling away, tore the paper and gave it to me.

“ARE YOU FOLLOWING ME?!” It wrote there.

I rolled my eyes and took a deep breath.

“Ahjumma, I was not following you, I live here!” I half yelled on her.

Her face turned confused and embarrassed in a split second. I hissed and pressed the elevator. She bowed and did another hand gesture which I can guess, which means sorry.

She started writing something again and gave it to me.

“I’m not an ahjumma....” I held back my smile and only nodded.

“Wait, you’re Korean?” I asked and she nodded, looking down.

The lift door opened and we entered it.