Winter Swan

"Silje, where you do think you are going?"

Aunt Skina yelled from behind, but Silje didn't answer her. She just walked away like a ghost.

The street was noisy with cars. Everything and everyone was still here, but Sien was gone.

All these people and buildings were still standing, yet Sien was no more.

Gone forever.

Was this death? No big fuss. No noises, nothing.

Just a meaningless reality.

Death was just a quiet disappearance.

Of course, it wasn't that Silje liked Sien, but still, this wasn't right. To die like this so suddenly…

Silje couldn't express her feelings. She was in such shock that she just kept walking.

After a long aimless stroll, Silje returned home and when she was alone in her bedroom, she finally gave in to her grief. Sien's death brought back so many painful memories.

Standing in front of the frozen lake in Norway.

Being sent away by Olga to New York.

When she first arrived here, Silje couldn't speak for a long time. She suffered from aphasia and the agonizing time she had in Aunt Skina's home was…

In her mind, Solveig's song began to play again.

"Silje!"

She could still hear Sien's voice.

Silje could guess what kind of life Sien must've had. Coming to New York and being killed like this was not right. Her family back in China probably didn't even know what happened to her.

Sien's death reminded Silje of her own life. Being exiled from the frozen land, she was sent to New York.

But unlike Sien, Silje was still here.

Alive.

Silje told herself, 'I am still living. Get up and fight.'

Her eyes reddened as Silje murmured, "Yes, Sien. I will not let your death go to waste. I will fight for myself in your memory."

She remembered another girl who disappeared from Earth.

The girl from Thailand who committed suicide in Norway after being severely bullied at school.

And now Sien…

Silje had been drowning in the deep dark ocean of sorrow, but she was ready to swim back up to the surface. She could see the sun above the water, and she was going to find her way back to it.

Closing her eyes, Silje whispered, "Yes, Sien. I will remember you."

The next day, it was raining as if the sky knew about Sien's death. Silje went to the Vietnamese restaurant for a coffee before visiting Greg.

She wasn't going to the cocktail bar to chat with him.

It was because Silje remembered that Greg said he was a model.

She wondered if perhaps she could become one too.

Silje flinched, realizing that this was the first time she wanted to do something since she arrived in New York.

In truth, there wasn't much she could do in this place. Silje had no skills or education. Her body and mind were still recovering, and considering all things, her options were limited.

However, just the fact that she was willing to try…

It was something. It had to be.

Silje remembered the photos of models in the fashion magazines she bought every month. Maybe this was meant to be. Maybe this could turn into something.

Her instinct told her to go see him.

She wanted to get herself out of her suffocating life in Aunt Skina's store.

She went to see Greg the bartender.

The day was slowly starting to get dark. The bright lights of various stores shined against the gentle rain.

Squeak.

When she walked into the cocktail bar, it was quiet inside.

Was it because it was still too early in the day? There were only two customers sitting at the bar.

"Welcome."

Greg was cleaning the cocktail glasses when he turned around and instantly recognized Silje.

"Oh! You!"

"Remember me? We met on the street recently. We live in the same neighborhood."

When Silje explained quietly, Greg looked surprised.

"Of course I remember! Nice to see you again."

Greg grinned teasingly, "Did you come for a drink? The last time you came here, you didn't even take a sip of alcohol. Am I right?"

"…Sien died."

"Oh, yeah, that Sien. She… WHAT! She died?!" Greg yelled in shock, making the customers stare.

"Oh, could you wait a second? I have to make some drinks for these customers. I'll be back, okay?"

With a rigid expression, Greg quickly made a few cocktails. He expertly poured the bourbon and squeezed lemons while Silje remained quiet. Under the dim reddish light, her black hair shined gloomily. Her eyes looked wet and Greg kept glancing at her.

"Finally. I have some time now before it gets busy again, so tell me quickly."

Silje slowly explained what happened to Sien. Greg listened carefully and nodded.

"I see. I don't watch the news or read the newspapers, so I had no idea. How could something like this happen?"

Greg then added as if he remembered, "Actually, it happens a lot in this neighborhood. There are a lot of illegals around here. The cops are trying to police this area more strictly. You would be surprised how many illegal massage shops are in this area."

When Silje didn't say anything, Greg grinned.

"But I don't think you came all the way here just to tell me about that. If there is anything else you want to say, go ahead."

A silence fell.

Silje's black eyes shined hopefully. She was ready to begin her new adventure, so she didn't hesitate. Silje opened her mouth and announced confidently, "I came here because I want to become a model."

"Oh, really? Modeling is a good job… Wait, what?! Did you say you want to become a model?"

Greg seemed shocked and the customers stared at him again. Greg's eyes were widened, but Silje remained calm.

"I want to become a model. To be honest, I have never thought about it, but from now on, I am going to do my best to accomplish this goal."

Silje explained with her usual confidence. She remained cool as she added, "I will work like my life depends on it. I am desperate to do this, so I will work harder than anybody else. This is my last chance."

Her desperation was obvious, and after a long silence, Greg shrugged his shoulders and asked, "So why are you trying to become a model? You just said that you never really thought about it before."

"Like I said, I'm desperate. I need to do this."

Silje looked determined as she continued, "I never finished high school. I was exiled to New York before I could graduate. I thought carefully and decided that if I wanted to go back to school and get a decent education, it would take too long and too much money. Then I remembered reading those fashion magazines when I used to live in Norway. At the time, I vaguely wondered if I could ever become like the models in the magazines. At this point in my life, this is the only thing I can attempt to do. This could be my last chance, and I have decided that I will not let it pass."

"You didn't finish high school? How old are you? Nineteen?"

"I will be turning twenty very soon."

Greg sighed and started to order her.

"Then let's have you stand up so I can have a look. How tall are you?"

"177 cm."

When she stood up, Greg studied her. Her hair was long and jet black, and her skin was pale as she has barely left her home and the vegetable store.

"And your weight? To be a runway model, you need to lose weight. Did you know that? A high fashion model needs to be skin and bones."

"I can make that happen."

When Silje answered confidently, Greg asked her to walk.

"Just walk over there?"

"Yes, show me your walking! If you want to become a model, try walking like one."