Something Out of Nothing | k.yh ✓

02

"You're fascinatin', 
baby I want more,
So feed my curiosity,
Show me what you got for me,"

Ah, the first snow. The pleasure of watching the delicate flakes merge together to make a deliciously soft layer of white on the ground was all mine. Nothing in the world mattered now, nothing except the frozen precipitation outside. Thin needles of ice stuck out from the very edge of the roof, sparkling in the muted sunlight.

"Today," I announced to my sleeping kitty, "Is a perfect day to explore the woods. Mom and dad are gone and most of the staff are busy preparing for the celebratory party,"

Astrid opened one blue eye at me, then yawned, which I took to mean, "Okay,"

I pulled out the snow boots my aunt had gotten for me the previous Christmas, along with my favorite 'adventure jacket', which was my mom's old beige peacoat. After I was dressed to explore, I whispered to Astrid to tell my parents that I was just playing in the snow if they got home before I did.

My adventure pack was what I took with me every time I went into the woods. It was just a leather sack my dad had brought home from Germany once, but I could never part from it. Its contents ranged anywhere from a Swiss Army knife to handkerchiefs to an emergency blanket to a magnifying glass, which never really served a purpose.

The woods behind my house were a place I ventured often. I knew them better than anyone in the world, and in turn, they knew me better than anyplace else in the world. The trees knew my tears better than my mother and more of my secrets than my dad. It may seem sad, but I found more comfort in solitude than in others.

The snow began to clear up, and I was left with a crisp layer that I crunched through with ease. The trees were as bare of leaves as the house was right now, and the sky showed dull blue-gray vastness, with dirty white splotches. I kept at a constant brisk pace, keeping an eye out for any wildlife, because what was the point of keeping the expensive camera in my pack if I couldn't photograph animals?

I came across the dilapidated brick house that I had found years prior, still with its peeling white paint and shattered windows. I used it as a shelter from the rain every now and again and despite its ugly appearance, it was rather cozy inside. Musty and dingy, yes, but with the help of a lantern and a blanket, it was better than under a tree. Right now, it had a dusting of white powder decorating it, and an occupant in the doorframe. A tiny field mouse stood on his hind legs, staring at me confusedly, as if to say, "Are you crazy?"

"Perhaps," I responded aloud, and it ran back inside its broken home.

I smiled, continuing on my way. Freezing wind nipped at my cheeks and nose, which made me pull my scarf up over my face so that only my eyes were visible. I walked until my feet were numb and I could barely see, finally arriving at my destination; a tall yellow house, much smaller than the mansion I lived in, but larger than a regular house. It was my dream house, but it was in horrible condition and all the doors were locked and windows boarded up. I walked up to its massive front gate and pushed it in and it scraped forward with a heavy creak. I tread carefully over the icy stone pathway, and I had to duck under low-hanging dead branches from the trees nearby. I assumed the property would have been breath-taking in its prime, but now it almost seemed a waste of space. But I would never tell anyone of my favorite hiding spot.

I walked to the front porch and immediately relaxed on the tiny white bench that stood in front of the door. I pressed a hand against the wooden barrier that blocked me from exploring the depths of this buttery yellow mystery. I had to be sitting for some ten, twenty minutes before I noticed loud crunching. I went to throw myself behind the huge holly bush by the porch, but decided to take it slow so whatever was coming didn't notice me. I stretched my leg out as far as it would go before taking a tiny step on my tiptoes and hiding in the coverage of the shrub. My breathing stayed steady and firm, and I made sure to press myself as far as I could into the bush. There was silence for about a minute. Another sudden noise from my left startled me so bad I let out a sharp gasp.

"Who's there?" A muffled voice barked. Something about it seemed vaguely familiar, but I assumed it was a trespasser.

My eyes shut and stayed as still as I could. I weighed through my makeshift weapons in my bag, deciding that my throwing knife from Australia would be my best choice.

"Whoever you are, you're best revealing yourself because you're trespassing," the voice called out.

I swallowed, fishing my knife out as quietly and carefully as I could.

"Come on, I swear I won't hurt you,"

Yeah, right, I thought with an internal scoff.

I stepped slightly to the right, inching silently toward the porch. However, instead of stepping on the porch, I sidestepped so that I was parallel to the porch. I saw the owner of the voice, his eyes facing the direction I had come from and his nose and mouth covered as mine were. I took aim and...

"Hey!"

Startled, I threw awkwardly and missed--barely. His coat was ripped by the hurtled knife before it slammed its point into a tree. He looked more than a little shocked as we stared at each other, and recognition sparked in both of us.

"Younghyun?"

"Kiwon?"

I laughed breathlessly. "What in the world are you doing out here?"

"Looking for you," he replied, his smile audible.

I walked toward him and he toward me. I glanced at his arm.

"It's fine, it didn't touch my skin," he assured me.

I chuckled. "You're lucky you scared me, because I have great aim,"

He copied my laugh. "I don't want to be the target you use to prove yourself,"

I grinned. "Don't worry, I like you more than some,"

"Fortunate," he replied.

I dislodged my knife from its resting place. "My mom brought me this from Australia," I said, brandishing it for him.

"It's beautiful," he decided, nodding.

I stuffed it back in my bag, which I shifted onto my shoulders.

"So, what is this place? Summer home?"

I sighed. "I wish. Our summer home is on the other side of our property. This is my little secret, can you keep it?"

"Sure, but why?"

I bit my bottom lip. "I'm afraid that if I tell my parents, they'll want to tear it down,"

He took a minute to examine the glorious structure in the light of the afternoon. Its exterior radiated money and power, but also love and passion, and that was what I loved most about it.

He nodded. "Wanna get inside?"

I shrugged glumly. "I've tried so many times. The doors are all sealed and the windows are boarded."

He looked at me. "You can't give up like that! Break in,"

I looked back at him in shock. "That's breaking and entering!"

"Not necessarily," he replied, raising an eyebrow, "It's on your property, isn't it? It belongs to you,"

I drew a blank. The thought had never really occurred to me. "I suppose you're right,"

We walked toward the front door and grabbed the stool, then looked at each other.

"On the count of three, ready?" he asked. I nodded.

"One, two... THREE!"