I could feel her eyes staring at my very form, with that judgmental look that I had never fond of. Somehow, I did know the depth of water that I was treading, so I could say that this kind of reaction from her was rather expected. Coming to her house was a terrible measure, I know, but it was the closest to where I was and I couldn’t drive no more.

            I honestly have no idea of how my body works nowadays. Despite my  issues, I took my meals. The portion might be more than usual at times and at some other times, it might be less, according to my appetite – in which, was perfectly normal. But then there I was, driving with surfacing signs of hypoglycemia. My vision turned blurry and my hands shook involuntarily, weakening my grip on the wheel. I believed, to a point that I may even have faith that if I were to drive home, I might end up hospitalized if not buried six-feet under.

            And with my limited judgment at that moment, I seek my closest place of refuge.

            ‘Let’s be honest here, Hayoung-ah. These kind of things don’t happen for no reasons, you know that. As much as I want to claim that I know all about you, I couldn’t. But I do know that there is something wrong, somewhere. Something that you never talk about and we both know that whatever this ‘something’ is, it is the elephant in this room at this very moment. And it’s eating you alive. So, please. Talk to me, and tell me things so I can save you from whatever this elephant is,’

            The desperation was evident in her every word, and reflected in her eyes as we sat by the island in her kitchen. It was tempting, really, the hand that was held out for me to reach. It reminds me of the girl who opened up ever so easily to people – the girl who trusted so easily. But as of now that I reflect upon my younger and naïve days, I realized how futile was the attempt to temporarily fool my mind; of how the burden will be lifted off my sore, sore shoulders by just spilling out some few strings of words. Because at the end of the day, it will still be there, and I would still be alone in the black of night with the burden crushing me to the core.

            And the idea of trusting people seemed so scary that I could feel my stomach churned even at the mere thought of it. Because once on a fine day down the alley of downtown Dongdaemun, I realized that even this person whose hands were wrapped around a glass of water, sitting adjacent to my very seat is capable to betray my seemingly unbreakable trust.

            There were no such scale to measure pain, and the agony of broken trusts might differ from time to time – but they all left my poor, poor heart in vain every time. I would plead guilty for being difficult, for being stubborn, for what may be perceived as unfair treatment to such a wonderful person just because I had been living on a past judgment. But, if only one could see things from my predicament, they would see that the pain was valid and real, and that I felt it. I felt every inch of the pain and I'm scared to 

            ‘I’m fine, Misa. Don’t worry too much,’ So I said, refusing the hand she offered me.

            I heard her deep, deep sigh. Even with my eyes casted away from her, I could imagine her with her arms crossed on the table and her shoulders slouched forward as she chose her words before carrying on.  

            ‘Stop whatever you’re doing, mei. Stop, before you completely destroy yourself – if you haven’t already, that is,’

---

            It was cynical, and almost sinister, the last thought in my mind before I lost my consciousness. It was as if I had been waiting for it, as if I had been expecting it to happen – sooner or later. It was as if my every second was a test to my own limit, of how far I could bend before I break – so my brain would register the extent I need to stretch if I want to shut myself down completely ever again.

            And I wonder – had I been that self-destructive in my conscious state that its subconscious counter part seemed to adopt similar behavior? Somehow, I was frightened by this revelation. For what might be the first time, I found myself asking; what have became of me?

            I could hear the whispers around me getting louder and louder through my peripheral senses. Soon enough, their words weren’t as hazy anymore and some sentences started to make sense. I must have been drugged for me to feel this bleary. However, I could feel my system being reactivated as the drug seemed to be wearing off. Somehow, I was fascinated over the way I could literally feel my brain fought to regain control over my body. And when I could feel my finger tips and their reflex movement, I knew my brain had won half of the battle.

            ‘She’s awake. Call Irene,’

            I heard my mother’s hushed voice and I could feel her soft hands touching mine. I can recognize voices now, that was at least a good sign. But, please. I wasn’t ready. I still want to sleep for some more. I didn’t want to open my eyes. I didn’t want to wake up. No, not yet.

            But it was unfortunate enough, for my eyes fluttered open before I could even stop myself. I could see my mother sitting right next to my bed with my sister-law beside her.

            ‘Thank God, you’re awake,’ My mother said, and I never saw that kind of smile from anyone before this. The kind of the relieved smile stretched so wide but with a quiver at the end of the lips, and the eyes that shined so bright as if they met someone they really missed but they were red and swollen as if they had been shedding tears for all their life. But, knowing my paranoid mother – I guess that was faultlessly normal. I took a quick glance to the rest of the figures in the room and I found the atmosphere was frighteningly somber.       

            ‘Who died?’ I asked, half-jokingly. My voice croaked and I realized of how parched I was. Fei was fortunately quick enough to pour me a glass of water and assist me to drink through a straw.

            Perhaps, it was a bad joke since they all looked so alarmed by it. My brother clicked his tongue disapprovingly and my father seemed to be ready to reprimand my terrible sense of humor.

            ‘You don’t talk about dying so easily, young lady,’ He said, with that same old tone that still scare me. Well, they couldn’t blame me really, for they did l