# REDMARE

                         `    i keep looking back.  /  SOMEONE  seems to see me.    `

thought i should make some notes about leah’s super-powered cousins, who are convenient plot devices often mentioned lots in my writing.

in his world it doesn’t exist .  all the fuss around christmas has never been more than work .  perhaps his parents had a few more words to share, 2 or 3 give and take .  seongil remembers how he’d meet with romi and decorate some trees in their neighbourhood . just like him, she had the same fate to live out .

an old couple would invite them inside, not caring for their names, they’d make them hot chocolate and marvel at the decorated bushes in their garden .  wondering about the presents at their doorsteps at every christmas eve, not knowing it was a well-meant gift from the juveniles .

seongil flings one popcorn into his mouth, attentively listening to leah’s words   » at least loud relatives will sing some jolly songs with you, can’t count on the quiet ones then . «

he watches the people pass them, gossiping about the movies they’ve seen minutes ago or are about to enjoy and have waited for months to do so !  trying to not make these words out ─ in order to save himself from catching any spoilers .  already past 10 pm anyway, people around them keep their voice low naturally, most of them tired and strained .  seongil looks back to her from his bag of sweets, finally the two got to meet up today .  with both their schedules usually colliding it was a welcomed surprise for both to be able to spend their free time together now .

»  and ?  there are about three months left, that’s less than half a year .  ─ never think about the future ?!  i mean, what’s time worth for when it only makes you numb to what used to be special… «

he sighs .

» you’ll definitely owe me something if this movie isn’t any good. «

“you say that now, but when they’re horribly off-key and they won’t shut up...” she trails off and raises her eyebrows, not bothering to answer the question (he should know the answer to that). she’s too cool to admit that she actually enjoys it when her family goes off-key. it’s funny and she appreciates fun. she’s not heartless, you know. she remembers fondly how the atrocious noise would play in the background as she and her cousin, dogyun, would guess which presents under the tree goes to who.

she grabs a handful of the pop corn and tries shoving it into her mouth.

this is the best definition of ‘don’t bite more than you can chew’ as leah almost choked. she manages to handle her predicament as gracefully as she can. she chews slightly while she has a hand in front of her mouth to make sure nothing would spill.

(note to self: a handful is too much. maybe... half a handful?)

“of course i think about the future.”

she does, more than she wants to. it’s so easy to send her into this crazy imagination where the next 20 years of her life plays in front of her eyes. people don’t have to try too hard to switch these ‘visions’ on. she’s conditioned to do that unwittingly by her parents. with their trigger words, ranging from ‘what are you going to in the future if you keep being reckless?’ to ‘you’re going to die alone if you keep acting like a neanderthal’ and anything of that variety.

it’s funny how all of them always ends with her future self becoming unhappy with her life. (and one wonders why leah represses a lot of things.)

“i’m more of a... live-in-the-present-person,” she says before slurping her large coke. “ugh. i shouldn’t have gotten the big cup. i’m half-way through this, i might pee lots in the theatre.” she sets down her cup on the floor to resist the temptation of biting her straws. it’s already unrecognisable from her earlier assault.

@ghvstlly / (here.)

after quite a while he has been thinking of mindless what if. what if they are not them, and he is not him. maybe it will be a different other stories untold. what if he knew what would happened to the little girl few hours before? perhaps he could still safe her life. just one hour earlier. one, and he would safe her life despite he has to break the rules of the living. for goodness’ sakes, she was only ten. ten year old girl who barely see the world as it is, barely see the good and the bad but now she will remain ten for the rest of — whatever it is. and perhaps somewhere in the corner of his heart, he still is despise the living; for what they’ve done. he wonder what’s so good about them for god to have chosen them to live in this very world. they are nothing but a nuisance barbaric being filled with envy and other ugly things.

he closes his eyes and sees what happened. the poor girl slaughter by a madman. butchered down like how human butchered their prey and sell it on the market; label it as fresh meat. it was quick, stomach turning, and most definitely the most ugliest ruthless thing he saw today. her blood was the color of rose, it dripped down like the rain in autumn. and he remember how small and warm her hand is against his ice cold hand. he told her to not look, he told to her that he would show her an endless flowerbed if she follow him (lies lies lies). what kind of flowers? her favorite. and she told him that she loves strawberry, and he told him that the flowerbed will be filled with strawberry. (poor girl, strawberry is not a flower but he just did not have the heart to tell. not when she let him witnessed those gap tooth smile of her).

he hates the feeling of numbness in his heart from hours of grieving over things he can not change. what left of her is a tiny carton of strawberry milk, stained with little drop of her blood on the outside but still sealed perfectly. as its being hold by his arctic cold hands, his eyes grieving over the fact that the girl is gone now. tonight his feeling is in a complete chaos, a thunderstorm in the atlantic ocean and his being is the very boat that sway right and left; violently. (is he is still good at goodbye?). this lonely being starts to swing back and forth on these lonely swing in equally lonely park —- perhaps not so lonely after all when he catch a glimpse of a girl next to her, swaying back and forth like him; the living, no wait, what is she?

“good evening?” his greeting falls as a question. a peculiar way to start something.

it’s late.

well, later than usual. her schoolwork has taken more time than it’s supposed to. as a result, her daily ‘roam’ got postponed by 3 hours.

it’s funny how different the city is even though it’s only a couple of hours later than when she normally goes out. the streets are awfully much quieter. during her usual time, a lot of people would be out and about, slightly tipsy and smelling like korean barbecue. they’d hold onto the other pereson to keep their balance, as they fix their crinkled office skirts or their tight ties. laughter would echo along the streets while bright neon lights put them in a strange hypnotic haze.

but it’s eerily silent now. there’s no sound apart from the occasional engine of a car passing by or electricity flowing through the street lamps illuminating the roads. leah regretted even going out, she could’ve slept.

she tries to be a bit more positive. who knows? (she’s gambling with luck now) maybe the park would have people around. leah hopes she’d find a couple trying to make up from an awful fight, she’s already imagining what kind of things she could do to ruin their moment.

she tests the wind and its speed. it’s a comfortable breeze (it’s perfect for walking, not too hot, not too cold, why are there not a lot of people? this is the ideal temperature to go on a midnight walk). she surrenders herself to the current, letting it carry her towards the nearest park. she’s in a lax position; her back facing the front as she crosses her arms behind her head for support. it’s as if she’s lounging by the side of the pool. she’s humming a song that her friends blasted during an aerobic session she dragged leah into. as much as leah hates working out, she can’t deny that the song is very catchy.

when she gets to the park, she’s met by unfortunate sight. nobody is there except for a lone figure by the swing. she knows at this point, she shouldn’t be picky on who she bothers, so she takes a chance.

she first began by possessing a street lamp, flickering its light in an nonrhythmic pattern. the man doesn’t respond. she moves again towards a seesaw, which she moves back and forth. nothing. she grows frustrated, usually by now the people would be cautious of their surroundings, they’d stop their activities out of fear, but this man just wouldn’t budge. he doesn’t even have the audacity to pretend he’s scared.

one last time.

she tries possessing the swing set, moving the vacant swing back and forth. no response. the man must be deep in thought.

a frustrated leah ‘de-possesses’ the swing and sits next to the man. she has her head in her palm as she sighs. she’s about to leave when she hears an uncertain greeting. maybe he’s talking to his friend. she scans the area. huh, no one is here. but his tone sounds more confused, not scared. there’s no way he’s talking to her because nobody has ever seen her before. nobody should be able to!

continued from here.

                         bloodied body and bruised ego .  ian’s head rests against the cold surface of the gym locker .  scent of sweat , blood and piss ( ? ) fills her nose but what was she to expect from a danky underground fighting arena ?  the witch was convinced that her aunt was out to kill her ,  what other reason would the madwoman offer the younger for warm up match? granted  ;   ian didn’t go down without a fight but there she was .  lost the battle but at least her face was still recognizable .

no one was allowed in the lower section of the arena .  only fighters so when she felt a soft hand on her shoulder ,  the witch’s attention was pulled back at the view of a young female beside her .  invasion of privacy and this girl was sure she knew that by the way the enchantress stared at the unknown figure as she began to move about the locker room .   she hadn’t asked for any help but here this woman was .  delicate hands meeting rough ones when the girl came back ;   aid kit on hand and a clean towel as well.  

‘i’ve got you ‘

it’s a hiss that comes from her bruised lips ;  the coldness of the damped towel against her features had ian squirming with discomfort .  she could easily clean the blood off but the other wouldn’t allow it .   instead ,  she had slapped ian’s hands away and continued to wash away the crimson of her own doing .   every wipe  removed the evidence of her fight  —-  aside from the  bruises but ian’s brown gaze falls on the beauty in front of her with curiosity . the girl is focused on every risen , squeeze and wipe that she has to do in order to keep the wounds from being infected .  eyes watch how the white towel is squeezed clean of its tainted essence .  

❛ you know , only fighters are allowed the locker rooms . and you don’t look  like a fighter to me .   ❜   thank you ..

there’s one thing her cousins always insist on about her: that she’s not as much of a rebel as she claims to be. even with her newfound devil-may-care attitude, they keep saying deep down inside she’s not a bad person. inherently, she’s good.

well, she can’t comment on that really, but they repeat those words like broken records. especially her older cousin, hanbin. fucking hanbin and his self-righteous tendencies. hanbin who’s out there being a vigilante, dragging her into this mess.

‘why don’t you visit the fight ring and help me get intel? you can use your powers for good,’ he said, ignoring the fact that leah can’t enter the astral plane without her body being vulnerable.

it’s not the best idea, but she did promise hanbin she was going to get his ‘intel’ (ugh, she hates it when he uses that word. what are they? the special ops?) to get him off her back, so she goes just as she is.

she wants to get in and get out as quickly as possible, but what can you do when you find someone bruised and bleeding? if leah isn’t in the mood, she could easily shrug it off. fortunately, something tugged on leah’s heartstrings and she feels the pull to help the stranger—probably because the girl is close to her oldest cousin, solji’s, age or maybe because leah hates the sight of blood and this girl looks like she might struggle wiping it off herself.

“oh, do i look that weak?” she teases as she takes out some band aid from the first aid kit after she’s finished wiping down the woman.

(this first aid kit could not get anymore disgusting. bloody fingerprints taint the box. its maroon hue contrasting the eggshell white. this is unsanitary.)

“i think i can hold my own in a fight.” she peels the band aid and put it upon the woman’s forehead, brushing aside the hair that had fallen. “you’re welcome,” she says as she packs the equipment and finishes her work.

                    maybe,  just  MAYBE  if  he  hurries  fast  enough  he  can  GET  to  the  library  on  TIME  for  once.  it’s  bad  enough  he’s  ALREADY  missed  two  of  the  GROUP  meetings  due  to  various  UNFORESEEN CIRCUMSTANCES  and  he’s  quite  aware  the  OTHERS  must  probably  be  really  ANNOYED  with  him  by  now.

                    at  least  he’s  CLOSER  now  and  can  stop  running,  managing  to  CATCH  a  glimpse  of  his  watch  ━━━  he  can  PROBABLY MAKE IT  as  long  as  there  AREN’T  any  red  lights  he’s  FORCED  to  wait  through.  he’s  so  BUSY  trying  to  remember  the  COMPONENTS  of  his  part  of  the  PROJECT  he  doesn’t  even  NOTICE  the  person  in  front  of  him  and  it  ENDS  up  with  him  accidentally  PUSHING PAST  her  a  bit  too  roughly.

                    he  STOPS  long  enough  to  AWKWARDLY STARE AT  her  before  quickly  COMING  back  to  his  senses  and  GENTLY  dips  his  head  in  a  SMALL  bow.  ❛  sorry  about  that.  ❜  he  CAN’T  stick  around  any  LONGER  though,  promptly  turning  and  LEAVING  once  more.

her mood isn’t the best.

her tutor annoyed the hell out of her just earlier when he deducted her marks over something she finds to be very trivial. she didn’t do anything criminal, it’s not like she plagiarised her friend’s work. she just didn’t use the correct font for her paper.

(to be fair, she did use the correct one as she wrote her paper, however, when she tried printing the paper on campus, the school’s computer changed the font. by the time she finished printing her deadline is due in 5 minutes.)

maybe that’s why she’s so adamant on this stranger to be a little more apologetic. she finds his curt 'sorry’ to be hollow and irritating.

it’s not a good sight. it makes her look petty, but she just wants an outlet for her frustration. it’s wrong, she knows, but she’s never had the best grip on her emotions. not since she got to seoul where her parents aren’t around.

22 years of bottling up her emotions, now she can let it all out without her parents scolding her.

                 he almost felt BAD for just staring at her for a few seconds, he had to shake his head to get back into the real world - as if he had been TRAPPED inside his own mind for a split of a moment. The books were held tightly against his chest and he shook his head yet again, make it obvious that no - she had NOTHING on her face. ❝no❞ he replied equally as quiet, it was the usual tone in these rooms, wasn’t it? to be quiet and not talk - just read, study be on your own for a while. That was why Ki loved this place so much, back when he was younger, when the world was still YOUNG too - there was no such thing as a library, it was only him telling stories to children on the street. 

                 ❝there is nothing on your face - I just had a feeling❞ a nod of his head - but oh, he couldn’t be so blunt and he blinked his eyes a few times. ❝as if I KNOW you! that was why I was confused, yes❞

“really?” she tilted her head. the moment he mentioned that, it was her turn to stare at him.

she began examining his features, trying to connect his face to a name--to no avail. it didn’t surprise her. she didn’t have that feeling you usually have when you recognise somebody even vaguely, that inkling in the back of your mind that tells you, ‘yep, you’ve definitely seen this guy’.

she wondered if it was because she’s just clueless (she did told herself that she wanted to forsake anything related to her hometown so she could focus on starting anew) or if the guy is lying.

she’s leaning towards the latter.

you got: death

you can be a bit intense and find yourself drawn to dark and mysterious things. you’ve been through a lot and have probably seen your fair share of endings, but probably cope with it through humor. on top of that, you are surprisingly easygoing — you’re open to change, try not to let past baggage weigh you down, and seek out new experiences.

tagged by: @antemortis tagging: @monchewie @tuwam @0308tr + anybody who wants to do this!!

bold all that applies.

GOTHIC HORROR gaslights. corsets. ballrooms. candlelight. mist. starless nights. full moons. cobbled streets. horse-drawn carriages. mysterious strangers. bogs. moors. forests. mountains. castles. velvet. silver. brass. gold. jewels. domino masks. the opera. dangerous romances. tragic romances. violins. roses. lilies. empty graves. crosses. cemeteries. snow. ice. the gallows. crows. milk-white skin. ambiguous illness. fangs. pointed nails. something howling in the night. capes. gloves. top hats. straight razors. lightning. pipe organs. underground caverns. bats. mice. rats. ravens. cats. pearls. attics. talismans. axes. wood. isolation in a room full of people. vampires. werewolves. ghosts. coffins. western europe. eastern europe. bones. churches. catacombs. mausoleums. spiders. libraries. rosaries. grandfather clocks.

CLASSIC HORROR black and white. powder puffs. red lipstick. winged eyeliner. white kitten heels. black lace lingerie. icy blue eyes. rain. abandoned cars. skeletons. acid. poison. voyeurism. switchblades. strangling. overcoats. looking over your shoulder. trans-atlantic accents. private detectives. dinner parties. haunted mansions. alcohol in glass decanters. cobwebs. perfect blonde curls. kitchen knives. shock. cellars. dust. dark alleys. empty streets. driving at night. horn-rimmed glasses. radiation. zombies. serial murder. paranoia. the city. witches. the devil. cannibalism. conspiracies. amulets. abject terror. the american south. the american northeast. england. analog cameras. creaking floorboards.

SLASHERS bloodbaths. massacres. wanton nudity. newspapers. leather jackets. letterman jackets. converse sneakers. obscured faces. social unrest. bonfires. lakes. babysitters. suburbia. high school. lockers. dead leaves in the fall. jack-o’-lanterns. outdated television sets. nightmares. psychiatrists. hospitals. unstoppable forces. gunfire. police. landline telephones. household objects turned into improvised weapons. halloween. secrets. revelations. character masks. scrunchies. queerness. wild curls. jeering children. parties. fire. swearing. revulsion. california. the american midwest. ambulances. bodies in the lake.

PARANORMAL HORROR malevolent spirits. seances. spells. missing bodies. hidden graves. white noise. static. flickering lights. rings of salt. demons. poltergeists. dark histories. old buildings. cold air. wells. urban exploration. a dog barking at something you can’t see. black ooze. old photographs. faces you can swear you’ve seen before but can’t for the life of you figure out where. dark bodies of water. crucifixes. priests. possession. exorcisms. dolls.

CRYPTID & URBAN LEGEND HORROR aliens. blinding light. dark woods. claw-marks. bite-marks. men in black. memory loss. dismembered bodies. sewers. flashlights. cell phones. video cameras. cars with tinted windows. abandoned houses. unlabeled cassette tapes. bugs. big cities. urban crimes. clowns. something rustling outside your window. glowing light. unsolved mysteries. mirrors. the american pacific northwest. the american midwest. hiking / backpacking.

and they are like a paper boat. set sail by gentle fingers through the storms and one can only predict that in the end they are only to sink. and it all started in a summer, with them exchanging glances. of ryu admiring her from a distance while leah was praying upon the spirit of health — upon him. he was looking at her; they all said and they said that ryu was blushing — the other spirits in the mountain was. a smile started it all too, a mutual smile as she smiled back at him that time. for a moment he believed that fairytales do exist. because how come someone can be so charming with just a smile, and with those gorgeous caramel brown eyes but there was something else that unexplainable spark.

and god it was summer, for goodness’ sake. but her smile was blazingly brighter than the sun itself. she became an intangible concept in his constant life. as another summer came, she looked different than last year. matured but still as beautiful. while ryu stay the same as he was before. and he wondered until when she will visit him in this wood.

there are some sorrows that one can’t rid themselves of. like how their story was meant to be nothing but a mere memory for the both of them. but deep down, ryu cant deny that his heart beats for her, his heart will be waiting for her come back each summer. it’s going to be like that, til her last breath. despite anything, she will always be his favourite fairytale without a happy ending. what a twisted story they’ve become. from how they were supposed to be an odd pair of friend (or perhaps something more as ryu is too hesitant to feel anything. to dumb to realised his own feeling) to maybe it wasn’t meant to be after all. he thinks that even if the universe tries its best to split them apart, he knows that their bond is stronger than that. that they are still be inseparable.

maybe that’s why he is afraid of losing her. maybe that’s why lately he has been craving to touch her, just a simple touch on her skin. to feel how soft and warm her skin is. but it only means that he will become a tiny million cosmic dust.

but he can’t help it now can he?

                                      ( ‘ for now, i’d stay here ’ )

ah right, it’s time to go back home for her. now that his fellow spirits who also attached to her present remind her of what time is it right now, he feels nothing but a tad bit —- lonely. is it selfish of him wanting her to stay just a little bit longer?

“then stay.” he says, almost like a beg but not much of it. “you can stay in my room for the night. it’s not much but i hope it’s enough.”

perhaps it’s the way her parents treated her. everything she does is always examined under such scrutiny that she always feels as though she’s observed underneath a microscope. even the slightest flaw would be discovered by her parents. then they’d pick on it, tell her ways to improve––wait, no, no, that’s too nice––force her to change.

you have to be perfect, leah.

young leah used to wonder whether her imperfection was her fault. the little girl was worried that she can’t live up to her parents expectations. she didn’t want to disappoint them, but over the course of the years, that concern began to diminish. she’s gradually realising that maybe the problem is not her, maybe it’s her parents.

(or is she just shifting the blame? after all, that’s a human thing to do, like how adam blames eve for forcing him to eat the forbidden fruit.)

how did she come this revelation?

first, she knows her cousins have the same worries too. it’s as if the adults of this family is cursed with this insatiable need to be perfect.

second, because he came along.

it’s a cheesy story, really. a summer love. she likes the way he looks at her, because when she was crying alone (she had tattered the blouse and the skirt her parents got her when she was tousling with her younger cousin), instead of laughing at her, he looked at her as if she wasn’t this monster. with mud blemishing her skin, he didn’t look at her with this disgusted look in his face. his gaze was soft, inviting, like the warmth of a hot chocolate and hearth in the middle of a snowstorm. there was something about him that leah couldn’t get enough of. they would sit together and talk and she would feel elevated. he knew just what to say to her, and words would come so naturally as they spoke, even if both of them stumbled over their words. with him, she laughs more than she does in a year.

she knew it was bad when she’s gradually missing him the more time she spent apart from him. and she knew she was in trouble because one day, when she had enough courage to look at his eyes for once as she had found his gaze too blinding at times, she saw the same lonely soul as hers. maybe the universe had put them together to complete each other.

no, don’t fall, leah.

tonight has been the worst night of her life. during dinner, her parents had nonchalantly mentioned that after graduating, the 18-year-old leah would go on to law school. it’s fleeting comment, but when it comes to decisions, one related to her future, leah has to put her foot down. leah snapped, saying that she never agreed to it. her parents then said, as if nothing was wrong, “oh, we assumed that was your plan.”

that was never her plan. leah wants to go art school and draw. she wants to write and illustrate her own comics. she’s told her parents about this! but it seems that, like every other comments she’s made, they’re nothing more than meaningless words. a childish dream, a temporary obsession. they’re not. it’s been a dream of hers ever since her older cousin brought her to a comic book store and she got herself a copy of a spider-man comic.

despite all the complaints and warnings, leah storms out and runs to the only person she knows she can trust... and sure enough, he’s the only one who thinks that having dreams isn’t such a sin.

she doesn’t want to go back.

@eterneli  /  poetry starters  /  accepting!

“what’s that, a new title for your song?”

the coffee shop is quiet that day, with only a handful of people sitting down and enjoying their drinks while another handful is waiting for their takeaway orders. leah is currently sweeping the floors as her friend joowon mans the cashier and brews the coffee.

(leah had lost the game of rock-paper-scissors. she hates sweeping the floors, but she’s not going to be a sore loser.)

she knows it’s creepy to be glancing over people’s shoulders as they work on their laptops, but she just can’t help it. not when the day is so uneventful and the most interesting thing she’s seen is this girl grumbling under her breath as she works on her math olympiad questions.

well, that and this baekhyun guy coming to the shop.

leah never really considers his work to be a genre she listens to often. her parents were the ones who own and listen to his CDs (all while saying, “why can’t you play the piano like him?” to her. geez, sorry for not being a piano prodigy). the songs are not bad, though. leah enjoys the occasional ones here and there. at least, it’s not one of those mozart songs her parents made her listen to when she’s young because they said it’d ‘stimulate’ her brain.