“Who should we ask about someone's destiny?”
The old man with grey hair all over his head smiled, looking at a small child sitting cross-legged in front of him.
"God?" The child replied hesitantly.
“How can we communicate with God?” the man asked again. The sky had turned orange and the wind was blowing harder.
"By worshipping Him, Grandpa?" Kim Jongdae still answered hesitantly. The lines on his forehead were a sign of the boy's curiosity.
The old man Jongdae called grandpa laughed, he stroked Jongdae's head gently.
Jongdae blinked. “Can I leave a message for God with you, Grandpa? I want to know what my fate is,” he said.
The old man stopped stroking Jongdae's head, his smile fading. A moment later, the smile and stroking returned, making Jongdae smile too this time.
The childhood memories pierced him like thousands of arrows, as his body seemed to burn from within. The man, in his twenties, floundered on a ship battered by a storm. A young girl, who witnessed the incident, stood frozen, with no help available; she was the only one still alive. Everyone else on board lay dead, covered in bite marks.
The long-haired, pale-skinned girl wiped away the blood from the corner of her lip. The ship rocked violently again, sending ripples of seawater surging up to her heels.
The slant-eyed man was still floundering like a fish on dry land. His bulging brown eyes were slowly turning blood-red.
The storm that had raged all night was slowly tiring. The sun began to rise in the east. Seagulls called out, as if mocking the girl who had kicked the helpless figure into the ocean.
“That's the destiny you have.”
***