It was August 23rd. Seo Yoon woke to the soft glow of sunlight spilling through her window and felt a small, quiet happiness stir inside her.
It was her birthday. A day she had always marked quietly, maybe with a small treat to herself or a hidden wish whispered into the air. This year, she had imagined it differently—just a tiny bit of joy, a reason to smile for herself.
She wore her favorite outfit to school, her hair neatly tied, and for the first time in a long while, she felt a flicker of excitement.
"Happy birthday!" she whispered to herself as she walked down the street.
School was ordinary, but a few classmates remembered. A small card, a shy "congratulations," and suddenly the day didn't feel completely empty. Seo Yoon smiled genuinely, letting herself enjoy the little sparks of warmth that others offered.
Then she went home.
The house was silent, oppressive as always. No decorations. No words. No acknowledgment. Not even a glance from the people who had brought her into this world.
Her mother glanced at her briefly. "Dinner's ready," she said. That was it. No congratulations, no cake, no warmth—just the same cold routine. Her father didn't even notice.
A wave of disappointment rose inside her, heavy and bitter. But Seo Yoon didn't cry. Not this time. Instead, she sat in her room, holding the small card a classmate had given her and savoring it like treasure.
It wasn't much. Just a piece of paper, a few kind words. But it was hers. It belonged to no one else.
Seo Yoon let herself smile quietly, for herself, in her own private world. Today, even if her parents had ruined the day, she refused to let it be completely stolen.
For the first time that year, she whispered to herself with certainty: I am allowed to be happy. Even if only for a moment.
And in that small, hidden joy, Seo Yoon found a flicker of strength stronger than any anger, any cruelty, any neglect: the strength to survive—and the determination to take her life back.