hi my names emilie and i like to create stupid things all day everyday


She always remembered that day. The day that she sat holding her knee on the playground crying, tears streaming down her face at the age of 6. She remembers the way that the older kids pushed her around and laughed as she lost her balance, falling to her knees in the wood chips that surrounded the play apparatus.

“Hahaha look at Emily she can’t even stand properly!”

“Yeah haha!”

“She’s so stupid!”

“What’s wrong with her face?”

“I dunno Hyeon but she sure is ugly!”

“I heard my mom talking about people like her, they’re called foreigners.”


“Yeah, it’s people not from Korea, It’s what they’re called I guess.”

“Haha look at the foreigner!”

“Little foreigner Emily!”

“No wonder her name sounds so funny!”

“It makes sense her face is so ugly to!”

The kids bullied her as they stood around her. It was like clockwork everyday after school lessons they went to the park down the street to play, Emily was one of the many children who walked down to the park after school but she decided that she’d rather deal with the older children’s petty bullying than what awaited her at home. That day was the same as all the others, except the bullies had actually gotten physical with her. The name callings and teasing was normal but this, this was new. Emily fell to her knees as one of them pushed her a bit more harshly than the others, the rough bark from the playground wood chips cut into her bare shins her knee length shorts doing nothing to help. Emily gritted her teeth as the bullies made a ring around her laughing. She felt the anger bubbling up inside of her, it wasn’t her fault that she didn’t look korean, sure her grandfather was half but with her american mother and american mixed father Emily didn’t even look like she had a speck of korean in her. The only way you’d know was because of her surname, Kim. It was a fairly common surname among the students and it seemed she was just another one until your eyes finished reading the rest of her name: Kim Emily or 김 에밀리 in Hangul. But as far as Emily was concerned she only knew Hangul, she didn’t know any english except for the small words she learned from the TV. Emily didn’t see why she was so different from the others, the only difference was how she looked, other than that she was the exact same, she lived in Gwangju in the Jeonnam district with them and ate the same grilled meat as them, home lives were a bit different she supposed but with her father gone and an alcoholic mother at home things were very different from a normal home.

She remembers feeling the confusion, her innocent brain yet unable to comprehend why the older kids acted like this. She remembers feeling the pain, not just the pain of the wood digging into her shins but the emotional pain as well. Phantom pains ran through her small frame like bolts of cold hot lightening ending at her fingertips, wanting to make her cry even more. But most of all what Emily remembers is the anger. Rage bubbled in the small girl’s stomach. How dare they she thought. They had no right to treat her like this. She remembered feeling the buzzing feeling that began in her chest, the tingling that started there and ran through her body. She remembers looking up at them through her narrowed eyes and her upper lip curled in a snarl, she remembers promising herself that they’d pay. And then, while looking at all the boys around her, while her eyes flitted to each one she saw him. It was just a glimpse, caught in the empty space between two standing boys, but he was there. He was standing under one of the trees maybe two or three feet away watching the ordeal. He looked to be about the same age as them, seven or eight maybe, but in her small glimpse her grey eyes met his pure black orbs and his face contorted into a sinister smile, fangs poking out under his top lip and a long serpentine like tongue slithered out the boy’s mouth and when she blinked he was gone. She never felt alone after that moment.

He always remembers that day as well, it was quite boring floating through the world and staring at all the humans. He was only ever really found amusement when he found chaos, created by him or a different medium he didn’t mind. So it was that day where he could have believed he was dying of boredom that he felt it. It licked at his senses teasingly, tempting him to follow its sweet seductive dance. The feeling was familiar to him however he has never found one so delicately innocent as he would put it, and it just made it all the more attractive to him. He let himself wander towards it, his mind racing at the thought of what would await him. Would it be a murder scene? He doubted it, the emotion was more than enough for it however the innocence that it also gave off confused him, whatever it was would not be able to kill, no matter the emotion. Not while that innocence still lingered within them. His lips turned up into a cruel grin as he thought about taking that lovely innocence. He found himself floating around south korea, slightly surprised as he followed the sweet that called to him, sung to him. Eventually he found himself at a children’s park, and from above he could see a ring of human children, laughing and exerting humorous energy and power, they felt powerful and from the center of the circle is where his desire was the most strongest, a human little girl on her hands and knees in the wood chips. He was surprised to feel the energy coming from her, he never expected that much hate and anger coming from a human child, but there she was, radiating that seductive feeling calling out to him to feed. He changed his form as he floated himself down to stand under a tree not to far from the commotion. Just a taste is what he told himself as he took on the appearance of a young boy, his pure black eyes staring at her between the spaces left between the standing boys. Grey met black, he offered her a wicked grin as he let his forked tongue slither out and into the air, a blink, and he forced himself to dissipate rather than pounce on the group of children because he knew from there on that just a taste would never be enough again.