Between Earth and Elsewhere

On a starless night in Seoul, Daeun lay on the cold cement floor and laughed softly to herself. The pitch-black sky seemed fitting for this city, she thought.

Everything was clearer now. Yeomyung had no reason to live, yet at the last moment, he’d twisted and fallen onto the rooftop. He could have died if he’d stayed still. Instead, he’d fled, leaving without explanation. But Daeun understood why.

“Because he’s an alien,” she muttered.

It made sense. His journey could fail without consequence because it was just that—a journey. He had somewhere to return to, a real life waiting.

Yeomyung would go back to space. There was no need for death.

Yet no matter how alien he was, he couldn’t deceive Daeun—or rather, Arin.

Rustle rustle

Pat pat pat pat

Quick footsteps broke the silence. A cockroach or a rat—Arin could tell the difference. She’d learned their sounds during countless sleepless nights in her room, where these creatures invaded her dreams, trying to manipulate her mind when she was most vulnerable.

But Arin fought back, refusing to give in.

She must have been careless when entering the house. That’s how the reptilians had found her. Their minions watched from behind trees, under cars, around corners. Arin noticed but pretended not to see.

Sometimes they confronted her directly. Like the old woman who claimed to be a neighbor, demanding to know about the piercing screams that echoed through the night—screams that sounded like a woman being torn apart. She wanted to know if Arin was the source of those terrible sounds.

Arin barely suppressed a sneer. The minion’s attempt at intimidation was amateur—its left eye tracked her properly, but the untrained right eye wandered aimlessly. Such basic mistakes. She’d even caught it eating rats at night, its reptilian nature showing through its flimsy human disguise. How foolish, she thought, before abruptly stopping her laughter.

Looking at her hands, she noticed her broken, bleeding nails. She’d been scratching again when her focus slipped. The sandwich shop owner had seen them once, threatening to sell her to the reptilians if she came to work like that again.

Arin clapped her hands against her cheeks. I can’t get caught by that woman. I can’t.

That woman whispered about Arin to every customer who entered the shop. Though Arin pretended not to notice, she heard everything—even conversations outside the shop. The woman smiled shamelessly at Arin, thinking her whispers went unheard.

Staggering to her feet, Arin made her way down through the building. Outside, a wave of dizziness forced her to crouch on the ground. Time was running out. She needed to prove herself worthy of space quickly.

“Think about it. If space was a good place, would they take just anyone? They’d only take good people, right? Leave the trash behind on Earth. That’s how space stays a good place.”

“What makes you a good person? What have you done in your life? You live under your parents’ roof, spending their money, doing nothing but going on about space, and worrying your sister.”

“I hate people like you the most. People who can’t take care of themselves and leech off others.”

The alien’s words rang true. Arin had fallen into despair. She’d never make it to space. She’d remain trapped on Earth, surrounded by multiplying reptilians until they either killed or enslaved her. If it came to that, death would be preferable.

But upon waking up and thinking about it, she realized the alien had told her the conditions for going to space. If Arin just followed those, she could follow him.

Arriving home, Arin fumbled for her keys, hands trembling. Behind her, a reptilian minion waited to strike, ready to slip inside the moment she opened the door. Cold sweat trickled down her back. She heard the lock click, darted inside, and slammed the door shut—catching a glimpse of the creature lunging forward too late.

“That fucking bitch is at it again,” a man’s voice growled from next door. Another minion, angry at their failed attempt.

They were everywhere now. Arin had nowhere left to go. She needed the aliens to accept her quickly.

Crawling to the corner, her hand found the flashlight. The beam swept across the wall, illuminating her collected information:

Yeomyung Jeon

Father: Jinmyung Jeon

Mother: Yeongrim Lee (deceased)

Born: March 19, 2001

Dropped out of college, working temp jobs since high school

Lives with father, grandmother, and younger brother

The light revealed more—his birth hospital, schools, acquaintances, workplace history—before darkness swallowed them again.

“Haah…” Arin sighed, burying her face in her knees.

She’d been so close. The alien had seemed to recognize her worth—or rather, Daeun’s worth. Then, one day, he had pushed her away. Was this another test?

What’s the answer? Listen to him or defy him? What does he want? How do I reach space? When? Please, quickly… I can’t take this anymore. Please…

Her nails scraped against the floor.

“Don’t do it! Don’t do it!”

She pressed her forehead to the ground, shaking her head violently.

If only she could dissolve into nothing. Explode. Shred herself to pieces.

Arin’s nails raked across her torso—arms and legs would show—until exhaustion finally stilled her hands. She curled into a fetal position, hugging her knees.

“I’m almost there… I’m almost there…”

***

What do you feel when you watch maggots writhing in filth, disgusted by their desperate struggle to survive? How does it feel to realize you’re one of them?

That’s what Yeomyung felt now.

He’d thought he wanted to die on that rooftop. But that was a lie. He’d never truly wanted death—he just couldn’t find a reason to live. He’d listed all his justifications for jumping, built his case around this emptiness. Yet when the moment came, he’d twisted away.

He was no different from those he cursed daily, those he looked down on and wished dead. Despite having no reason to live, he too fought for survival—desperately, uglily.

Just another being trapped by the programmed instinct to live. Who was he to think he could defy that? As if he were somehow chosen, special.

In truth, Yeomyung was worse than those he called maggots. They at least accepted their nature, followed their instincts honestly. He couldn’t even do that. Instead, he looked down on them while maintaining the illusion that death was always an option: I can die whenever I want. I just haven’t chosen to yet.

This lie had let him pretend he was different. But now he knew better. He didn’t want to die. He was just another maggot.

Even this current helplessness felt false. Why pretend to resign while still clinging to life, still refusing to give up? He’d realized it on the rooftop—deep down, Yeomyung had never let go of hope.

“Think of it like a trip. One where you have no money, your friend’s insufferable, you can’t communicate, you’re lost, and there’s a typhoon every day. Wouldn’t the wise choice be to quit? Why continue?”

Daeun’s words had exposed the truth: Yeomyung still clung to hope that someday these hardships would end, that life might improve. That hope kept him from death.

He was just like his mom. Her life had never improved, yet she’d always say, “Won’t things get better soon?” He’d hated those words—they seemed foolish, pathetic. How could anyone expect things to get better in a cesspool? Even a mouse hole might see sunlight, but not this place.

Yet he’d stayed silent, recognizing the affirmation as her lifeline. Without it, she might have lost her will to live. He’d needed her then. Now he carried the guilt that his need had only prolonged her suffering.

Yeomyung wiped the steamer and counter frantically, hoping for customers to keep these thoughts at bay. When he was idle, strange, terrible thoughts crept in—thoughts he couldn’t understand.

Should he thank Daeun for showing him his true nature? Or hate her for stripping away the illusion that kept him going? He imagined her secretly mocking him: “Your despair was just pretense. You desperately want happiness, want to live…”

She felt like a punishment sent from God. The truth was, he was scared of her.

Would she have really jumped if he hadn’t twisted away? Why go so far? What kind of life had she lived?

He didn’t want to know. Everyone had their reasons for unhappiness. He understood only that Daeun’s pain was bottomless, making her fearless even facing death. He didn’t want to know that either.

Then he spotted her in the distance.

His shift was ending. Yeomyung removed his apron and left the dumpling shop.

Daeun followed silently.