I gaze lovingly into the face of perfection. Auburn locks curling down his forehead, tan skin perfectly baked after almost a whole day in the field. I wanted to talk to him to hear words spill out of his mouth when he’s talking to me. I straighten my skirt but the wrinkles had been there ever since I received them from mother. They’re forever etched across the fabric. Like how I want that little dimple on his cheek to permanently flaunted for me and because of me.

“Beatrice?” his smooth voice wakens me from the foolish daydream.

Yes? My eyes lift to his face, putting the practiced cold demeanor up.  I don’t even try putting my thoughts into words because that would be a risk. My voice might shake due to nervousness and that might reveal my hidden feelings.

“Where should I put the corn?” his eyebrows curl yet lips were still smiling. His arms tense under the sack of corn cradled on his shoulders.

Uhh… My shoulders lift an inch to shrug but before he could detect the action, mother directs him to put the sack a few feet away from the wheat miller.

I blush, standing around awkwardly. Mother exits the kitchen probably to fetch money to pay him. We are alone, even for a very short moment. This is my chance to tell him. It felt like it was the only chance I got.My eyes were trained on the door, waiting at the same time not waiting for mother to get back.

He sits on the lone wooden stool in the room but not before fetching himself a glass of water. I inch closer to the fire, disguising the heat warming my face. My fingers find a grain of wheat. I peel the skin off with my nails creating a distraction for myself.

“Uh, Beatrice.” My eyes snap towards him just in time to see him scratching the back of his head.

“Yes?” I swallow. Mother returns, placing a bag of coins on the side of the table where he sat. He stands and downs the remaining of his water, grabbing the bag with his grubby hands.  In a few paces, he’s out the door. I deflate but grab his used glass and poise to wash it along with the loneliness in my heart.

“Aren’t you coming with me?” He pokes his head through the window, the one just in front of the makeshift sink. I squeal in surprise and he chuckles hearing it with the clatter of the glass on the muddy floor of the kitchen.

He led me to my brother’s favorite place, the small hill at the back of the house. Its greens and violets and roses in contrast with the wheat and barley fields he and father farm together.

“Your brother asked me to do this.” He starts and leans close to me. If I wasn’t distracted with thinking of what I told my brother I could have inched away.After a while he doesn’t continue, eyes just looking far away. “What…” I asked. My voice was caught in the wind, fingers finding something again to tinker with, this time I found a wild flower.

“What did he tell you?” I tried again, pulling apart the stem of the flower.

“He wanted me to teach him how to ride a bike but he said that you needed to approve who trains him.” I smile. I guess I’m not the only gullible one here. My brother is so funny. Did he even think this ridiculous request would work?

I didn’t know how to answer at all. “I’m the best bike rider there is.” He hints, winking. I think my heart just imploded.

I forgot if I answered him. Even if I did, I still don’t recall the words I used.I feel like I’m still sleeping yet I can feel myself waking up. I roll to my stomach, arms wound around a pillow. The dream continues.

I’ve been living for so long I forgot I was a normal girl. I was.

I saw myself lying on the bed, sketching his with my fingers across the ceiling. I saw how I would sneak quick looks at him as I deliver father’s midday meal. I saw how I would excitedly go with my brother to the hill just to relive the moment when he first talked to me.I also saw the nightmare, the one that continues to haunt me even after decades of my transformation.

“I, Beatrice, pledge myself to the goddess Artemis. I turn my back on the company of men, accept eternal maidenhood, and join the hunt.”

The moment was bittersweet. All the physical flaws were exhumed and removed. In place of that were beauty, glow and radiance. But the hurt was not physical, it was emotional and spiritual. I could feel my emotions die along with my soul, each death more agonizing than the last.

As the years stacked up, so did the flatness.

Now that I am integrated again to human life, the feelings are being unearthed like a treasure chest. Loosening the earth is tiring, digging up the loose earth is time consuming and once the chest of feelings is in your presence again the dent on the earth remains no matter how much earth you pack on top of it.It will take time for the earth to settle and harden again. In the meantime it remains vulnerable, loose, exposed.

I thought the nightmare would not follow me but it did and this time the emotions are much stronger.

I force my eyes shut. There are too many people here. I want to run away but I made a promise. I avoid the large hordes of people and wander the less populated areas of the mall.

A book store catches my attention, because not a single soul was there except for the workers. I walk towards it, thoughts drifting to mother and her growing belly. She reads so many books, even before her pregnancy, now she reads twice as much.

I really like the warm ambience of the store, reminds me of a coffee shop. And the scattered pile of books on the floor waiting to be put away reminds me of the tutus in the dance studio where Hakyeon took me once.

My head starts to spin slightly, so I brush my palms along the book shelves just making sure I have something to hold on to if I fall. I pretty much circled the whole store when a voice brings me from being absent minded to alert.

“Miss, are you looking for something specific?” Oh, that voice. I don’t dare to turn around because I know it’s not him.

But they sound so similar.

“Peter Pan.” I mumble. I have to keep him talking, anything to hear someone that sounds like him.

“Ah, we have it.” He answers. I hear his footsteps distancing away from me. I follow him and see that he’s nothing like Hyuk. He picks up the book for me and for me to hear him one last time, I whisper a thank you. He bows enthusiastically as I walk away. I note his voice one