Beijing, China. 

 

Name: Do Kyungsoo

 

Age: 18

 

Gender: Female

 

 

---

 

Sometimes she tries to remember. 

 

But beyond the wetness of the dew that she awoke to that day, not another memory comes to mind. And yet, Kyungsoo finds herself dreaming of grasping the images, like sand through the spaces between her fingers. 

 

"DO!" She jerked from her thoughts. She had forgotten, she was sitting on the petite wooden stool and peeling the rough potatoes with a jagged knife. Her hands wrinkled from the water the vegetable soaked in. "I'm done, hurry up! Three more orders came in for fries. You have to get a sweet potatoes from the -"

 

"I got it." The worker, Yangni, she remembered. She had offered her a place in her crammed apartment closet filled with plastics that the girl had collected. It had been the first feeling of warmth Kyungsoo had felt, waking up that day on the hustling streets of Beijing. She hissed at the sharpness of the knife as she accidentally cut herself. 

 

"I'm done." Kyungsoo managed to croak out, her mandarin had been sufficient for the four months she's been here. 

 

"Good," she met Yangni's weary eyes, they both hang their aprons and squeeze by the cluttered kitchen. "Let's go home." 

 

"Where are you two going?" Kyungsoo need not turn to know the voice, "We're not done. You still owe us the meal you stole that night shift! Don't think Mingjun didn't tell me." 

 

"Sir, -" Yangni bowed. 

 

"Get to work." 

 

It was times like these that Kyungsoo let her mind wander. Past the stinging of the cold vegetables and the sharp ends of the knife. Beyond the strong scent of mould and grime huddled behind the hut of the store. All she had was her name, Do Kyungsoo, and a long ancient penchant that not even the old merchant that sat from dawn to dusk pawning keys bought. The very one that felt like lead to her neck that night as she hunched over the wooden stool, scrapping potatoes in the cold. 

 

"My life is so sad." Yangni slurred. "I'm young and beautiful-" she hiccuped. Kyungsoo held onto the girl'a shoulder tighter, she lifted her easily. "-but no rich man wants to marry me! Can you believe it!" 

 

"No," Kyungsoo crooned with her limited Chinese. "I don't believe it."

 

"You -" a finger prodded her cheek sharply, "You are pretty. But dumb. No ones gonna want a dumb wife! Oh I know!" Yangni giggled hysterically into the night, "You should pretend to be mute." She spat. "You would get men if you were mute." 

 

"Yangni." Kyungsoo murmured, "Shhh." 

 

Sometimes, she wonders about moments like these. Moments when she seems to glide in the ground. When the weight of a skinny Asian girl felt like a bag on her shoulder. Or when the ground just seems to never want her to fall. Kyungsoo had wondered about moments like these, when walls seem to just thrum to her. When the woods that peeked over their humble abode whisper songs of comfort into her ear. Now, it was a drunk Yangni hissing love songs she never got to experience into her shoulder. 

 

"Excuse me." A trio of men stepped in front of her. She stopped. They had spoke Korean to her, Kyungsoo spoke Korean. "Are you Do Kyungsoo?"

 

She gazed at them hard, "Yes, can you help me officers?" The language almost foreign on her tongue after so many months forgoing the words. 

 

He chuckled, "Oh we're not police officers. Please, come with us. Leave Yangni, the police will be here shortly." 

 

"I - what?" 

 

"Get in the car." A gun. It was pointed to her. Kyungsoo froze. Yangni murmured into her ear, heated whispers as she giggled hysterically. 

 

"Yangni." She murmured, shaking the half conscious girl. "Yangni." She repeated the first word she had learn upon awakening. 

 

"When I say go," a sudden sober whisper escaped from the seemingly drunk girl, "run to the second shop behind the pawn lady. You will find -" she giggled hysterically again, the men stepped forward. "You will find a black backpack and duffel bag. Take it and go to- just leave. Okay?" 

 

Kyungsoo's eyes were wide. Her lips pulled into a small hole, blowing air quickly between her lips to calm down. She squeezed Yangni's hand. 

 

"Go." A ghost of a whisper. Kyungsoo had not known to leave without seeing the look in Yangni's eyes. Urgent and resilient. 

 

She had sprinted out just as a thought flashed in her mind. She spoke Korean. 

 

Three gun shots. 

 

Do Kyungsoo stopped running. Sobs racked her body, fear and everything else shook her as she hunched over and heaved. Run! Go. Run like the coward you are. Live for the life Yangni g - is that even her name?

 

Sometimes, Kyungsoo likes to pretend. She would like to pretend the men didn't exist. Her only friend didn't die brutally. Or the crater she had punched into the building didn't happen. Or even the cracks that ebbed from her feet didn't swallow the men as they came to sight. Yes, she would like to pretend that, but she knew better. 

 

She had powers.

 

The heavy chain weighed down her neck, the thin black jacket did little to keep the chill from clutching her of the night. Although, she suspected it was cold all the way down to her soul. 

 

The bag was heavy, stuffed full and warm to carry. It felt like the faint scent of cheap lemon soap they had shared lingered on the items, Kyungsoo strained to see under the flickering lights. Folks had opened their lights from the shifting ground and booming noise earlier. She had to leave. 

 

Gripping the duffle bag and backpack tightly, she sped off. The earth covered her tracks, silenced her trek and lead her away. In her hand gripped a collage, stuck on a ripped piece of parchment paper. Rich and oily to touch, pieces of magazines, newspapers, tissues stuck to it with roughly tacked in duct tape. All had various symbols, twelve, she had counted. Scribbled in with pens, pencils and other various utensils to make a mark. 

 

The desperate and frantic markings had scared her. Kyungsoo eyed the darkness, it seemed to close in on her.

 

All of a sudden, Kyungsoo didn't feel so lonely. And the penchant around her neck seem to burn with excitement, or danger. But sometimes, she wasn't sure which she preferred.