8 years ago.
I was just playing with some kids, laughing and chasing shadows, until suddenly—I realised I was lost. I didn't know where I was, or how far I'd gone. Everything around me looked unfamiliar. That's when I saw it.
A wall.
Old and tall, its stones hidden beneath a thick coat of green vines that danced slightly in the breeze. At the base of the wall, there was a small hole, just big enough for someone like me to crawl through. I didn't know why—maybe curiosity, maybe something else—but I got on my knees and wriggled inside.
And the moment I did, it was like diving into a dream.
The air on the other side felt softer, cooler, almost sweet. I blinked, my breath caught in my chest. The place was covered in flowers—petals of every color, floating gently in the wind like confetti from the clouds. Blossoming trees arched above like guardians, their leaves shimmering as if dusted with gold. The grass was so soft it felt like stepping on clouds, and tiny lights—maybe fireflies, maybe something else—danced around in the air.
I wandered through it with wide eyes, heart racing. It was beautiful—no, beyond beautiful. It was like stepping into a painting drawn by a child with the wildest imagination.
Then I saw it. Not just a house—a villa. White walls kissed by sunlight, vines curling around its balconies, glass windows that glinted like diamonds. It looked like the ones I'd only seen in storybooks or fairy tales.
And then I noticed her.
A girl in a soft pink gown, sitting beside a marble fountain that sang with water. She was looking around, almost as if searching for something. And when her eyes landed on me, they widened with pure curiosity.
She stood up, then came running—her boots clinking lightly against the stone path. Her dark hair was pinned back with little shiny clips that sparkled like stars, and her round, dark eyes sparkled with wonder.
"Are you my new friend?" she asked, stopping just in front of me.
The answer came out fast—"No!"—and I stepped back, ready to run.
But she grabbed my hand gently.
"If you're not," she said, her voice soft and innocent, "then why are you here?"
"I… I don't know," I muttered, pulling my hand away and turning to run.
But I hadn't gone far when I heard her voice again—light, sad, and echoing just enough to make me stop.
"If you leave, then who will play with me?"
I froze.
I didn't want to be mean, but I couldn't help what I said next: "Why do I care? I have my own friends to play with!"
"You have friends?" she asked, not hurt—just curious—as she ran up beside me again.
"Y-yeah," I said, scratching the back of my head and avoiding her eyes.
"Then… can I play with them too?" she asked, eyes wide with hope.
I hesitated. Something in her voice felt lonely, something I couldn't ignore.
"…Okay," I finally said. "Come along."
And just like that, we walked back together—through the blooming path, past the fountain, under the arching blossoms—until we reached the wall.
The little girl stopped in front of the small hole I had crawled through earlier. She looked down at it with a puzzled expression.
"From there you came?" she asked quietly.
I nodded, already crouching, ready to slip back through. But when I turned, she was still standing.
"What happened? Come on!" I called.
She pressed her lips into a nervous line and looked at me. "Can't your friends come here instead?" she asked, almost like she already knew the answer.
"No," I said firmly, though not unkindly. "If you want to play… you have to come with me."
For a moment, she hesitated. Then, with a small breath, she raised her head and gave me a determined nod. Without another word, she dropped to her knees and crawled through after me.
Her soft pink dress caught dirt and little twigs, the hem snagged slightly—but she didn't seem to care. She simply stood up on the other side and brushed her hands.
I glanced at her, then reached out and gently took her hand.
"What if you get lost?" I mumbled, not quite meeting her eyes.
She didn't answer right away—she just squeezed my hand tighter.
That was enough.
I ran alongside her, my heart pounding—not from the sprint, but from the worry twisting in my chest. What if my friends had been looking for me? What if they'd already left?
But when we reached the clearing, I slowed. They were still there… laughing, chasing each other, tossing the ball in the air as if nothing had happened.
Relieved, I turned to her. "Wait here," I whispered. "Let me explain. I'll tell them someone new is joining us."
She nodded, standing quietly behind the tree, her hands clasped in front of her skirt.
I ran forward. "Guys! I'm back!" I called out, breathless.
But before I could even step into the circle, one of them shoved me. "We're not playing with you anymore!" he snapped.
I stumbled back, blinking. "What…? What are you saying?"
"You're the one who begged to play with us," another chimed in. "And the moment we let you in, you disappeared! It was your turn, and you just vanished!"
"I didn't mean to! I got lost—" I started to explain, but they didn't care.
"Stop lying!" someone shouted. "We're done with you!"
Then another boy scoffed and muttered under his breath, loud enough for all to hear: "Go away. Filthy."
The word hit me like a slap.
I tried again, softer this time, "Guys…"
But they weren't listening. "Can't even listen for once, can you? Always acting weird… just like your divorced parents!" one of them yelled.
That one cut the deepest. I looked down, shame burning in my chest, my voice caught in my throat. I turned and walked away slowly, my shoes kicking up little puffs of dust.
She was still there, right where I left her. Her eyes met mine, then shifted down to the ground. "Seems like… even you don't have any friends either," she said, her voice quiet but steady.
I couldn't hold it anymore. The tears came, hot and fast.
She flinched, startled. "Hey, hey—fine! Even I don't have any friends!" she blurted out quickly, as if to comfort me. "It's okay!"
I wiped my cheeks and looked at her.
"Then…" she paused, a small hopeful smile forming, "will you play with me?"
I nodded fiercely, grabbing her hand with both of mine. "I'll only play with you!" I said, voice shaking but full of promise.
"Let's go!" I added, tugging her gently.
She giggled, her fingers wrapping tighter around mine. "Where are we going?"
"Just come," I said with a grin, "I'll show you."
....
We stood before a small jamun tree, its branches low and inviting. I grabbed one and began to climb.
"What are you doing?" she asked, voice tight with worry.
"I'm going to climb and then jump!" I said, already halfway up.
"What if you get hurt?" she asked again, eyes wide.
I smirked and glanced down. "That's the trick. Look below you."
She stepped forward and peered beneath the tree. The ground was covered in a thick layer of dry leaves, forming a soft, crunchy cushion.
"Even if I fall, I won't get hurt because of these," I said confidently. "Now, come up!"
"I... I don't know how to climb," she mumbled.
"What? But where you live, there are tons of trees. How can you not know how to climb?"
"No one ever let me," she said quietly.
I jumped down. "Fine. I'll help you."
I knelt and made a step with my hands, lacing my fingers together. She hesitated, then placed her foot in my grip. With a little boost and guidance, she grabbed a branch, and I steadied her as she climbed up carefully.
"Good! Now get ready—we jump on my count!" I said.
We counted down together, then leapt into the leaves. They crackled beneath us, catching our fall just right.
We did it again. And again. She was laughing now, eyes shining, her hair messy and dress dirty, but she didn't seem to care. We rolled in the leaves, laughing like the world outside didn't exist.
And then someone came running toward us—breathless, panicked.
She turned and her laughter faded. "Aunt?"
A woman hurried forward and scooped her up into her arms.
"Oh my An Ran, you're here!" the woman said, relief flooding her face.
That was the moment I found out her name.
Her name was An Ran.