Cheonsa had to focus and ask herself- what do you do when you find an attractive boy sitting inside your one-room apartment?
Would it be rude to just ask him?
.....................................
"How pitiful," she hummed, "Do you want me to help y...
"This should do," said a man in his early thirties, huffing as he tightened the knot around his nine-year-old daughter's ankles. The frail girl, who watched her father from the bed, appeared almost lifeless. Her father stood up and double-checked that she was securely fastened to the heavy bed before leaving her alone in the darkness.
Darkness was all she had ever known, a constant companion since she could remember. Her existence was confined to four bare walls and a bed that creaked in the stillness of the night.
There was an old saying cautioning against dwelling in darkness for too long, as it would devour a person before they even realized it. Jeon Cheonsa couldn't discern whether she had already been swallowed by the darkness or if she was simply a child born from its depths.
Only time held the answer, and time alone would reveal her fate.
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As Cheonsa's dream came to an end, she blinked her eyes open. She hesitated to label it as a dream; it felt more like a haunting memory from her past. A past she desperately wished to erase from her mind, but its grip remained unyielding. Her life seemed tainted by a curse, burdened with an ill fate that she could do little to change.
Each night, the ritual of binding herself with heavy chains had become routine, performed with a monotonous rhythm, just like her father did for her.
Alone, she confronted her harsh reality. There were no family or friends to rely on. She existed as a thief, a mere street rat. Her life resembled that of Aladdin, minus the magic lamp and playful pet monkey. This existence, this path she walked, filled her with self-loathing. She despised the puppeteer who controlled the threads of fate. What deeds had she committed to earn such a cruel punishment?
Running away from home was the only good thing that had happened to her. Although she did have to look out for herself from then on she would trade her life with the devil for a day without her torturing parents.
Cheonsa shook her head, trying to push away the haunting darkness that lingered in her mind. A long day loomed ahead, and the last thing she desired was to be haunted by the painful memories of her past. But it was difficult to ignore the grim truth. At seventeen, with just six months remaining until her dreaded eighteenth birthday, she sensed the weight of an impending prophecy. Uncertain about the exact details of the prophecy, she was certain that her life would end soon. Deep down, she found herself eagerly anticipating that fateful day.
With a desperate struggle, Cheonsa attempted to break free from the shackles that held her captive to the bed. She lacked any sense of urgency. School and employment were distant realities, as no one would welcome an outcast such as herself. She merely existed, a shadow in the background, unnoticed and forgotten in people's stories or memories.
In the early days, stealing and survival proved to be formidable challenges for her. The majority of her existence had been confined within the wretched prison she once called home. Homeschooling, she reckoned, was the sole aspect she could be grateful for. However, even after escaping, she made efforts to self-educate, though it had little practical benefit in the harsh reality of the world.
