Min-ji's eyes fluttered open, the harsh morning light piercing through the cracks in the worn-out curtains. She lay on the thin, lumpy mattress, her body aching from the previous day's chores. The memories of her parents, their smiling faces, and warm hugs, flooded her mind like a tidal wave, leaving her with a familiar ache in her chest. It's been five years since the car crash that took them away from her. She was only ten years old.
She remembered the crash vividly – the sound of shattering glass, the screeching tires, and the pain of being thrown from the car. She was the only survivor. The hospital, the sterile smell, and the endless stream of questions from authorities were her reality for weeks. Eventually, a kind-hearted social worker took her in, and she was placed in an orphanage. That was until Lee Soo-yeon, a woman with a pinched face and cold eyes, adopted her.
Min-ji's gaze wandered to the small, faded photograph on the nightstand. Her parents, Lee Jae-wook and Kim Hyun-ji, beamed with pride, their arms wrapped around her tiny frame. She ran her fingers over the picture, tracing their faces, and whispered, "Annyeong, mama... annyeong, papa..." Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them away, steeling herself for the day ahead.
She threw off the thin blanket and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, her feet dangling above the cold floor. The wooden floorboards creaked beneath her feet as she stood up, stretching her slender frame. Her stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn't eaten dinner the night before. Soo-yeon's rule was clear: finish all the chores before eating.
Min-ji quickly changed into the worn-out uniform Soo-yeon had given her – a faded pink dress with yellow stains on the hem. She tied her long, dark hair into a messy ponytail and headed downstairs to the kitchen. The smell of stale kimchi and burnt rice filled the air, making her wrinkle her nose.
"You're late, useless girl!" Soo-yeon's shrill voice cut through the air, making Min-ji flinch. "Get the breakfast ready, and don't bother making anything for me. I have a headache."
Min-ji nodded, even though Soo-yeon wasn't looking, and hastily began preparing breakfast. The kitchen was a mess, with dirty dishes piled high in the sink, and the floor sticky with last night's spills. She worked quickly, her hands moving with practiced efficiency.
As she cooked, Soo-yeon's son, Jin-tae, sauntered into the kitchen, his eyes roving over Min-ji's slender figure. He sneered, "Smells like slave labor in here."
Min-ji kept her eyes down, focusing on scrambling the eggs, her hands shaking slightly. Jin-tae's words were a constant reminder of her place in this house – a servant, a burden.
"Hey, deaf girl, I'm talking to you!" Jin-tae snapped, his voice rising. He strode over, his hand raised, and Min-ji instinctively flailed, covering her face.
Soo-yeon intervened, her voice cold, "Jin-tae, don't waste your energy on this stupid girl. She's not worth it."
Min-ji let out a shaky breath, her heart racing, as Jin-tae snorted and flopped onto a chair, grabbing a piece of kimchi from the jar.
After breakfast, Min-ji cleared the table, her eyes scanning the clock on the wall. She had a few hours before her part-time job at the local library. She quickly washed the dishes, her hands raw and chapped from the harsh soap. Soo-yeon refused to buy gloves, saying it was a waste of money.
As she finished up, Min-ji's gaze landed on the small, scantily filled bookshelf in the corner of the kitchen. She had discovered her love for reading from the orphanage's library, and it became her escape from the harsh realities of life. She longed to read more, to lose herself in the stories, but books were a luxury she couldn't afford.
The sound of the front door slamming shut signaled Soo-yeon's departure for work. Min-ji let out a quiet sigh of relief, feeling a tiny sense of freedom. She quickly changed into her worn-out shoes, grabbed her backpack, and headed out to face the world.
At the library, Min-ji helped with shelving books, her fingers tracing the spines, and her heart swelling with longing. She loved the musty smell of old books, the feel of paper between her fingers, and the stories that transported her to different worlds.
As she worked, a small, battered phone in her pocket caught her eye. She had found it in the trash a few weeks ago, and it was her most prized possession. She had spent hours researching, teaching herself basic programming, and exploring the world of writing.
Min-ji's phone buzzed, and she smiled, recognizing the notification tone for her secret email account. She had started writing stories, pouring her heart and soul into the words, and submitting them to online platforms under the pseudonym 'K-Midnight.' The thrill of seeing her words live, of connecting with readers, was a high she couldn't get enough of.
She opened the email, her heart racing, and read the message from a web novel platform – they wanted more chapters of her story, 'Moonlight Serenade.' Min-ji's eyes shone with tears, and she bit her lip, trying to contain her excitement. She was making progress, slowly but surely, building a life, a purpose, and a future.
As she finished her shift, Min-ji's stomach growled, reminding her that she still hadn't eaten. She headed to the market, buying a small packet of instant noodles, her treat for meeting the deadline. She devoured the noodles, savoring the spicy broth, and feeling a sense of pride. She was working hard, building a life, and creating a future, one word at a time.
The sun was setting as Min-ji headed back to the house, her heart lighter, her spirit renewed. She knew the road ahead wouldn't be easy, but with her pen, her words, and her determination, she was ready to face whatever came next.