The flash from her phone was blinding. She held it to her mouth, one finger pressed to her lips in a cruel, mocking gesture.
"SHHHHHH."
The text message glowed on the screen: I'M OUT FRONT WAITING IN THE CAR. BRING HER OUTSIDE NOW.
I could hear the purr of the engine, a low, predatory growl, just beyond the glass.
"Your daddy is waiting for you outside, Ajin," she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness.
I backed away on the bed, my heart hammering against my ribs. "I don't care! I'm not going with you!"
She laughed, a thin, sharp sound that scraped at my nerves. "Then shall I tell your father to come in here and drag you out himself?"
My defiance flared. "Sure! Try me!" I shouted, scrambling to my feet. "Then I'll tell Junseo everything—!"
"That won't work on me…" she smiled, a victorious, chilling twist of her lips. "Because you won't be coming back to this house after tonight."
A cold dread washed over me, turning my blood to ice.
"DON'T COME ANY CLOSER! Why are you doing this to me?! What have I done so wrong?!" Tears were already burning my eyes, but I blinked them back, refusing to cry in front of her. "All I want is to live here with Junseo…!"
She strode forward, crossing her arms. "Awww, were you really hoping that I'd be your new mommy?"
The words felt like a slap. My throat tightened with unshed tears and rage. Stupid Bitch, I thought, the insult searing through my mind.
"Well, sorry to disappoint you, but I'd NEVER take in a freak like you. I never liked your dad all that much either."
I stumbled backward, the cruelty of her statement knocking the air from my lungs. Everything was unraveling. The fear was a physical weight, pressing me down.
"I didn't say anything to Junseo, and I don't plan on telling him anything…" I pleaded, trying to appeal to whatever tiny sliver of mercy she might possess. "Please let me stay here until I graduate high school, or even middle school!"
But my words were useless. They bounced off her like raindrops off stone.
I looked down at my clenched fists, shaking with impotent fury.
I HATE THEM ALL.
Why…? I asked the empty air, the injustice of it all crushing me.
My breath hitched and broke. The tears finally came, hot and unstoppable, streaming down my face. I screamed the question that had been building inside me since she first entered the room: "WHAT GIVES YOU THE RIGHT TO DO THIS TO ME…?! IS IT BECAUSE I'M JUST A KID?!!!"
I was sobbing now, a pitiful, gasping sound. She simply watched me, her head tilted, a patronizing smirk on her face.
"PFFFT. Aww, you're so scared! But sweetie…"
Her smile was the last thing I saw before I crumpled onto the floor, my hands digging into the mattress where Junseo had just been hours before. Her voice, low and final, seemed to echo from a great distance.
"…IT'S TOO LATE."
The Fall
I heard the door behind me click, and the sound was like the snapping of a trap. My mind screamed move, and I lunged for the bedroom door, throwing my weight against the wooden frame.
The woman was on me in an instant, her arms wrapping around my torso as she tried to pull me back, away from the freedom of the hallway. I twisted, kicking, trying to wriggle free from her grip.
"SWING!"
She slammed the door shut, trapping my head, my mouth muffled against her shoulder. "MMFHH!!" I cried out, the sound swallowed by the fabric of her dress.
"Be quiet! UGH, SHUT UP!! YOU'RE GOING TO WAKE JUNSEO!" she hissed in my ear, her grip tightening with panic.
I thrashed against her, biting down on her hand where it clamped over my mouth. "BITE!" The taste of salt and something metallic filled my mouth.
"AAAARGH!! WHAT THE F**K?! DID YOU JUST BITE ME?!!"
She recoiled instantly, clutching her bleeding hand. That moment of shock was all I needed. I spun out of her grasp and bolted for the stairs, the thick carpet muffling my desperate footfalls.
I heard the frantic shout behind me: "GET BACK HERE RIGHT NOW!!!"
"NO!!!" I yelled back, scrambling down the steps, my body low to the ground. I won't let you touch me again. I won't let you sell me to him.
"I won't… let you sell me anywhere…" I muttered under my breath as I reached the next landing. "You trash…"
She was halfway down the stairs now, her eyes wide with rage. "GET BACK HERE RIGHT—"
I paused, halfway down the last flight, and looked back at her. Her face was contorted, unrecognizable. This was it. The final, desperate move.
"Did you know that it takes a lot to kill a person?" I spoke slowly, my voice surprisingly steady as I stared up into her horrified eyes.
The question hung in the stale, nighttime air of the stairwell.
"Sometimes, even a really nasty fall down a few flights of stairs isn't enough to kill someone." The words weren't a question, but a statement of cold, hard fact.
I looked at the steps beneath me, and in my memory, they dissolved into another image: a pool of dark red spreading across a polished wooden floor.
"I learned that when I went to go check on my mommy after daddy pushed her down the stairs."
The memory flashed, vivid and sickening. "She flailed in her own blood for a while, begging me to call her an ambulance…"
The blood drained from the woman's face, her mouth opening in a silent gasp. She looked around nervously, afraid of who might have heard.
I returned her terrified gaze with a blank, flat stare. The monster they created had awakened.
"So I probably won't die too easily either," I concluded, taking another step down.
My heart was still racing, my body trembling, but for the first time tonight, I felt a terrifying sense of power. The threat was a ghost, a secret, but it was mine, and it was the only weapon I had left.
The story takes a dark turn here, revealing a traumatic past.
The hallway felt like a long, dark tunnel. My heart was a frantic drum against my ribs, but the fear was tempered by the cold, calculating logic that had surfaced when I mentioned my mother's fall.
I heard the sound of a door opening above me, and then a quiet, confused voice: "Mommy…?"
I froze on the stairs. Junseo. He was awake.
I looked up just as she was clutching her wounded hand, her face still frozen in a mask of shock and fury. I knew her name now: Jiseon.
The pause, the brief moment of silence that fell between us, was broken by the quiet, demanding ring of her phone. She hesitated, glancing from the phone to me, and then, clearly prioritizing the call, she turned and moved away, back toward the bedroom.
This is my chance.
I ran down the last few steps. I heard her voice, low and urgent, but even from the bottom of the stairs, the acoustics of the house made the words horrifyingly clear.
"REALLY…? TONIGHT?" Her voice was excited, sickeningly eager.
A deeper voice, the one on the phone, responded. I couldn't hear the exact words, but her reaction told me everything I needed to know.
"Yeah. Make sure she's not bruised up. The clients won't like that. Okay?"
Not bruised up.
The pieces clicked together in my mind, forming a picture so vile and brutal it made me physically sick. She wasn't just kicking me out. My own father had orchestrated this. They were selling me.
"So… I can do anything to her as long as I don't get her bruised up, right?" Jiseon's voice was a chilling whisper, laced with sadistic anticipation.
I sank onto the bottom step, hugging my knees. The tears were gone, replaced by a terrible, clear-eyed realization.
I looked at the stain I had made on her hand with my bite, the dark smear of blood on the light carpet of the stairs. It was a mark of my resistance.
Suddenly, her voice snapped into a furious shout. "LISTEN, JISEON. I'M WARNING YOU."
It was a man's voice, full of authority, coming from the other end of the line, clearly lecturing her. I pictured my father on the other end, laying down the ground rules for my own sale.
"I wouldn't screw around with Ajin if I were you. She's got a bad temper and she's eerily clever."
He paused, and the darkness of the house seemed to press down on me.
"W-WHAT THE F**K?" Jiseon stammered.
The last part of my father's warning was the final, devastating blow: "…you'll be in a lot of trouble."
I looked at my bare feet, dirty and cold on the floor. I was a problem to be disposed of, a product to be sold. A freak that neither of them wanted.
I closed my eyes and whispered the words to myself, the tragic summation of my young life: "I'm like a luckier version… of my mother…"
She flailed in her own blood for a while, begging me to call her an ambulance.
The thought gave me a bitter kind of strength. I could fall down the stairs and not die. I could be bitten, bruised, and sold, but I was still breathing, still fighting. I stood up, ready to face the long night ahead. I would not let them win.
You know… if I die here…
My survival was a defiance. My life, however broken, was all I had left to spite them with
I could hear my father's warning ringing down the stairwell, his voice hard and chilling even in my dazed state: "IF YOU SCREW WITH HER, SHE'LL DO ANYTHING TO F**K YOU UP."
He was right.
I stood there, listening to my own fate being sealed, and realized I had only one way to make myself untouchable, one final, desperate play to sabotage their evil business deal. They said no bruises. They needed me intact.
I looked down at the dark carpet that swallowed the last few steps. I took a deep breath, clenched my teeth, and launched myself forward, not stepping, but falling.
My world became a spinning blur of darkness and sound—the sickening THUD as my head hit the landing, the sharp, agonizing pain, and then the muffled sounds of their panic.
The next thing I knew, I was in a hospital.
The Wake-Up
The overhead lights were offensively bright, and a tight bandage circled my forehead. The sterile scent of the room was a stark contrast to the dark, dirty air of the stairwell. I was alone, then I heard the familiar, panicked voices just outside my door.
My father was shouting. "HOW COULD YOU LET THIS HAPPEN?!"
Jiseon shrieked in defense. "WHO KNEW SHE'D JUMP OFF THE STAIRS LIKE THAT?! It's not my fault! I didn't even have the chance to stop her!"
My father's voice was the coldest I had ever heard. "WHO'S GONNA PAY TO SEE HER NOW WITH HER HEAD ALL BUSTED UP?!!"
His concern was purely financial. The only thing they cared about was their lost profit. I felt a grim satisfaction curl in my chest. I won that round.
Then came the hurried instruction: "UGH!!! Just don't tell the doctor… that she jumped off the stairs on her own, okay?! DO YOU THINK I'M AN IDIOT?! Of course I'd never go around telling people that!!"
They were sealing my secret, protecting their image even as they fought over the ruined merchandise.
Suddenly, a figure blocked the light. I blinked my eyes open. Junseo stood by my bedside, clutching my hand, his shoulders shaking.
He must have been so scared and miserable…
He was crying, his face twisted in genuine anguish.
"I'm so stupid… I had no idea…" he choked out, leaning over me.
His tears were a shock. They were warm and real, unlike the false concern I'd spent my life navigating. A small, confused voice left my lips. "Why are you crying, Junseo…?"
He gasped, wiping his nose with the back of his sleeve. "AJIN! YOU'RE AWAKE!!"
I managed a weak smile. "I thought older brothers aren't supposed to cry…"
He didn't laugh. Instead, he gently touched my hair, careful of the bandage, and leaned closer. "Don't listen to them… They're bad people…"
His vulnerability cracked the icy shell I had built. I had always admired his strength, his steady presence.
He wiped his eyes again, but the tears kept coming. "I-I'M NOT CRYING!" he insisted, but his voice broke. He took a shaky breath and leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a raw whisper.
"Ajin… I saw your diary… and I know who X is."
My heart stuttered. X. The anonymous, evil force I wrote about—my way of keeping the secret of my abuse safe. He saw it. He knew.
I squeezed his hand. "So you know X is really mean…"
"Yeah, I do… I'm really sorry…" he confessed, his head bowing low.
In that sterile, brightly-lit room, with the pain throbbing in my head and the world trying to kill me, I finally felt safe. Junseo saw me. Not the merchandise, not the freak, but me, the person who was fighting. And he was on my side.
Present
At hospital
"I saw your diary… and I know who X is," Junseo had confessed, his face wet with tears.
"So you know X is really mean…" I whispered, my voice still weak and dry.
"Yeah, I do. I'm really sorry. I can't believe I was so stupid before." His apology was heartfelt, and it was the only balm for the throbbing in my head. He was reaching for the truth, and that meant more than any physical comfort.
"Do you still love X…?" The question was a low, aching plea. I needed to know if he would go back to them, if I would be alone again.
He shook his head vehemently. "No. I hate her. I only love you. You're the only person I trust at home now."
Home.
The word tasted bitter. "Home…?" I looked down at the hand he was holding, noticing the IV drip taped to my skin. "I might not be able to go back home, Junseo."
My words made his expression darken with renewed grief. "X is planning on getting rid of me," I explained, my voice flat.
"I won't let her!! I'm going to keep you safe, Ajin. I won't let anyone hurt you."
He was grasping my hand tightly, his grip fierce and protective. It felt like the one solid thing in my whole, broken world.
"You'll always be on my side, right?" I asked, watching his face, needing the absolute assurance.
"That's right. I'LL ALWAYS BE ON YOUR SIDE… so don't ever let go of my hand, okay?"
I didn't answer. I just held on, my grip tightening around his. The scent of disinfectant and clean sheets was heavy in the air. Smells like… hospital…
I opened my eyes, blinking away the lingering fog of unconsciousness. There was a small bandage plastered to my cheek and the larger dressing on my head. "Am I in the hospital…?"
"JOLT!"
Junseo startled. "! AJIN! YOU'RE AWAKE…! Can you recognize who I am?"
I managed a genuine smile. "How could I not know, when you've got my hand in a vice grip like that? You're the same as ever, Junseo."
"HOW COULD YOU JOKE AROUND LIKE THAT?! YOU'VE BEEN OUT FOR FOUR DAYS! I've been so worried about you…!" he cried, dropping his head in relief and frustration.
"Four days?! Aack!" I jolted up in the bed. I had to move. I had to know what had happened while I was out.
"Ajin, you shouldn't get up right now…!" Junseo protested, trying to gently push me back down.
I didn't listen. "I'm fine. Can I borrow your phone for a second, Junseo?"
He hesitated, but seeing the steel in my eyes, he handed it over. My fingers were surprisingly steady as I dialed the number for the academy—the only way out I had planned for.
A cheerful, professional voice answered. I explained that I was calling about my acceptance, about the tuition deposit.
"Oh… yes, the tuition deadline was yesterday. As we did not receive your deposit… your acceptance was rescinded and your spot has been given to a student on the waiting list."
My entire body went numb. I listened to the polite, clinical voice deliver the final blow: "We understand there were special circumstances, but we cannot make any exceptions to our policy."
The phone dropped from my hand, clattering against the mattress. The fall, the fight, the confession, Junseo's loyalty—it had all bought me four days of safety, but it had cost me my future. My one clean, legitimate path to freedom was gone.
Junseo, realizing what happened, looked down at me, his face a picture of heartbreak. I closed my eyes, feeling the IV needle tug at my skin. I was still trapped. But this time, I wasn't alone. And for now, that would have to be enough.
The dial tone, the automated response, the polite refusal—it was all a blur. All I heard was the finality of the word "rescinded." My last legitimate escape route, the one I had worked for in secret, was gone.
Junseo's presence, his hand still clutched in mine, was the only thing keeping me anchored. I had sacrificed my face and my future to avoid becoming their property, yet here I was, still trapped, still staring into the abyss of their control.
I managed to push myself out of the bed, the IV pole rattling beside me. I ignored Junseo's worried pleas and walked to the window, gazing out at the dreary hospital corridor.
I tried every other way. This is the only option I have left…
My options were simple now: remain a victim or become the predator.
No matter which way I think about it… I have no choice but to get rid of him…
The chilling logic settled over me, cold and clear. I wasn't just talking about my father's new partner, Jiseon, anymore. I was talking about the source of all the evil, the one who saw me as nothing more than an asset: my father. He had pushed my mother down the stairs and was willing to sell me off. He was the root of the sickness, and if he was removed, the poison would stop spreading.
I was Ajin—the child with the bad temper and the eerie cleverness, the one who didn't die when she fell. My scars were a testament to my survival, and now they would be my shield.
The Graduation
Time blurred. Days turned into weeks. I was discharged from the hospital, the bandages replaced with simple medical tape, a constant reminder of the war I was fighting. Junseo and I maintained our silent pact. We were a team now, bound by a shared, dangerous secret and a common enemy.
Then came the day.
The gymnasium was crowded, filled with the chatter of students and the proud applause of parents. The air smelled of cheap hairspray and wilting flowers. The sign above the stage was gold-plated and grand: GRADUATION CEREMONY.
I stood in my formal suit, the white collar of my shirt a stark contrast to the black fabric. It was my graduation from middle school, a milestone I honestly hadn't believed I would reach.
A classmate rushed up, holding a camera phone. "CONGRATULATIONS, AJIN! LET ME GET A PHOTO OF YOU!"
I forced my mouth into a small, practiced smile as she counted. "SMILE! ONE, TWO… THREE!"
The camera CLICKED.
In the flash of the photograph, I saw myself reflected: the dark hair neatly framing my face, the bouquet of roses clutched in my hand, and the small, tell-tale piece of medical tape—the scar—still visible beneath my eye. It was a picture of a successful graduate, but I felt like a soldier posing after a battle.
The world saw a promising young girl. I saw a survivor.
I turned away from the crowd, the finality of the ceremony washing over me. This chapter was closed. My old life, my old hopes for a peaceful escape, were truly over. Now, a new, darker resolve took hold.
Part 1: Do Not
I had been told "Do Not" bruise the merchandise. I had been told "Do Not" talk to Junseo. I had failed to follow the rules of my oppression, and my escape failed.
The rules had changed. The next part of the story would not be about trying to escape or survive a threat. It would be about removing it.
The End.
But it was only the end of one story, and the beginning of mine. The real one.
I had to lose my future to gain my true perspective. What form do you think Ajin's final confrontation with her father will take?