A Photograph's Consequence

Chapter 11: A Match Made in Heaven or Hell?

Chapter 11: A Match Made in Heaven or Hell?

Eunji's POV

This was it. My last year at school. My last chance to sort things out with my life. To fix up all the flaws and work my way to college. My dream place to go ever since I was a little girl. The thing I have aspired to the most when I was small, was writing. Writing about anything and everything.

I mostly capture the sadness and the lives of unfortunate people. Because I too was once and in some ways, I still am unfortunate than others. As the daughter of a poor merchant who walked miles every day to sell handmade jewelry and spices was the hardest life any person would have to live.

I struggled every day to help my mum get ready for work. My mum was a nurse and the only reason this family had not fallen apart yet. It was hard but I managed for years to endure it and hoped that one day I would work hard and get into a college and study.

It was obvious that the dream was crushed the day my parents died in a car accident. This was the only reason why I had a phobia of cars. I could ride them but only if I took pills that helped with my phobia. But I stopped taking them because they were too expensive to afford nowadays.

"Eat up," Chorong's mum said to me at the breakfast table. "Thank you and by the way, I got two more jobs," I said as if it was no big deal. I was forever grateful to them for taking care of me since my parents died but I know they don't have the money to send both me and Chorong for college.

"None of you are going to stop me, I need this, I need to get into college," they kept quiet as I spoke. "These jobs are really important to me and I need to work myself as I promised my parents," my eyes started to tear up but I sucked them back in. I was strong now.

"We will support you in any of your decisions," Aunt said and Uncle nodded in agreement not turning from his newspaper once more. I always wondered what he read in them. What was so interesting that caught his attention.

After finishing my glass of milk I grabbed my bag and headed out the door to my job. It was a Saturday and today I had work at the national newspaper where I filed stuff. Yes, that's right I got a job at the National news agency. I had a resume and everything and had experienced a lot of writing but it wasn't enough to land me a proper job so I was stuck with filing papers for now.

Later on in the afternoon, I had catering all night. It was a fun job but tiring sometimes to stay such late hours during the weekends for night work.

I slipped my shoes on and walked to the bus stop to catch a bus into town. I tightened my strap on my bag as I walked. It was a one-strap black bag that slung over my shoulder and I carried it everywhere.

It had: my emergency pack, uniform for catering because I had my news agency work clothes on, I also had my black diary which I wrote everything in; my dreams, hopes, goals, secrets, and life story they were all in the form of poems. I write poems about anything and store them in the book.

Twenty minutes later I was walking around the news agency attending to people's filing. I was wearing black heels as it was a dress code (it was Chorong's mum's don't ask), a white blouse with the logo pin on it, and a black pencil skirt (also Aunty's).

I had to attend to the whole second floor. It was neat with private individual work stations with typing, clicking all day, printing, and sending. This job had to be the busiest business in Seoul. There was an air conditioner all throughout with grey carpeting and a few potted plants here and there.

There was a picture of the owner of the company plastered on each floor. The framing of their young son which I bet is all grown up now and is living the high society life. I smiled at the picture frame as I walked past it.