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HYEJIN

Light slipped through the cracks in the blinds, morning sun rousing me from my sleep. With an eyelid half cracked open, I glanced towards my clock before - grudgingly - forcing myself out of the warm clutches of my duvet. As tempting as the pile of pillows and blankets was to crawl back into, I kept my last sliver of willpower, stubbornly laying the duvet smooth on the bed and reorganising the mounds of pillows that surrounded my little utopia.

Beyond my bedroom, there were two other rooms - the bathroom and communal merged living room and kitchen. Whilst the apartment was cosy to say the least, it was more than enough space for myself. I loved it here, how taking two steps from the coffee machine took you straight to the fridge and two more steps from there was the sofa and my joke of a television. Not that I used it much however, on the occasion that someone did visit, a movie and popcorn was always welcomed with wide arms.

I'd lived here almost 3 years now. As soon as I turned eighteen I escaped the clutches of my rural suburban home and voyaged for the city. The lights, the prospects, the people, the fact no one talked about you after a drunken night out. And - of course - the smell of smog once you left the front door. Whilst disgusting, it was oddly invigorating. Living on my own had always been the dream. Eventually I'd live with others but my early twenties were to be spent in the privacy of my little haven. It was too good to be true when I found this place. Love at first sight. Despite it's tiny size, it boasted large windows, like eyes which peered over the bustling city below, as well as a large bedroom with a quaint and tiny balcony through a little alcove shaped window.

It was too perfect. Like something out of a magazine. And I kept it perfect. Nothing ever changed. Everything was always in it's place, as it should be. Tidy house, tidy mind.

However, immediately after stepping outside my room, I noticed something different. Something that shouldn't be where it was.

A red flyer lay face down in the middle of the floor, appearing like a blood stain on the rich mahogany linoleum. It lay there ominously and I stared at it as if it were a body bleeding out on my floor. I inched closer, crouched and snatched it from its place.

This is addressed to the current tenant - Miss Lee,

I am writing to inform you that you are required to vacate the premises within the next fortnight. I am sincerely sorry for the short notice and inconvenience this may cause however, due to personal reasons, I require you to find accommodation elsewhere.

Thank you for your co-operation - Mr. Kim

The note dropped to the floor - back to where it had been before - and I stood still with shock. Disbelief racked my body, rendering me useless. I just stared. Questions flew through my mind.

Why? What? How?

This was my home. Now, the plan was all askew. I was supposed to stay here, build a career and then, once life was stable, get a relationship and move out. I wasn't supposed to move out before I had even gotten on my feet. Today was a stressful day enough. Today is supposed to be a great day. First day at a new job. A great job. A new prospect. A future.

A ruined future.

Whilst it's possible that this would all be fine, it was unlikely. The stress would pile on and the extra work would be immense. The temporary position would be intense; test my sanity. A mix between receptionist and secretary. Yes, it would only be a couple of months until the accounting position opens up however, until then I'd be stuck on coffee errands and rushing dry cleaning from street to avenue and back again. Now, more than ever, I was tempted to buy one of those hoax voodoo dolls to use on the pregnant women who currently had the position that is meant to be mine. Nothing bad, just squeeze it so the babies pop right out. I'd be doing her a favour. She looked in discomfort anyway with that reasonably sized stomach holding her precious little angels. But to my dismay, her maternity leave did not start for another two months. Therefore, I would have to become well acquainted with overly meticulous coffee orders and the smell of steamed suits worth more than the figure on my pay slip.

virtuous deception || pjm (editing)Where stories live. Discover now