If I am just goofing off after graduation

"What will happen to me if I just stay at home doing nothing after graduating from college?"

Unlike my friends, I didn’t have a boyfriend who might lead to marriage. Maybe my parents would leave me alone for a while. But eventually, they might tell me to help with the family business, like my siblings. If that happens, I might never escape from my father’s shadow. That fear pushed me to look hard for a job.

One of my friends applied to be a radio announcer, so I sent in an application too. But I was surprised—they didn’t just listen to our voices; they even tested how our faces looked on camera. This wasn’t even for a TV station! I also applied to a magazine company, but I was rejected again. In the end, nothing worked out. So I applied to graduate school to stay a student a little longer. Still, I didn’t want to just study without doing anything, especially for the sake of my parents. I looked through the newspaper to find a part-time job. That’s when I found work adding small illustrations to a manuscript written by a hypnotist.

The story was about a young woman walking alone on a mountain trail. It was scary, and she started to walk faster. Then she heard footsteps behind her—soft at first, then louder and closer. She turned around in fear and saw a large man approaching. Now they were walking side by side. When she slowed down, he slowed too. When she walked faster, so did he. He didn’t say anything, just kept walking silently. The woman got more and more nervous.

“What do you want from me?”

she asked in a trembling voice. Still no answer. That silence made her even more afraid. She asked again, this time almost screaming,

“What are you trying to do to me?”

Her sharp voice, full of fear, finally triggered the man. At first, he had no bad intentions. But her overreaction made him tense, and eventually, he lost control. Maybe, if she hadn’t asked anything, she would’ve walked down the trail safely. That question—“What do you want from me?”—might have actually meant, deep down, “Please love me,” and it created a strong emotional conflict. This was the kind of story I had to draw for.

I remember the illustration: A dark room. A tense guest lying down. The hypnotist speaking in a slow, deep voice. Then the guest starts to groan and shake. That dark, trembling scene reminds me of the hard times I went through—wandering through a tunnel with no job, unsure of what would come next. Even now, those memories sometimes come back clearly from the corners of my mind.