3:51 pm

We are currently residing in the small corner of a room. We look around and on the side we see a window which allows natural light to illuminate some parts of the room. We follow one of the rays of light which has met with one of the four walls in the room. Painted white we can not help but feel a subtle onset of desolation and emptiness slowly encroaching upon our body. 
Though, of course we should not be complaining because ,after all, this room isn't designed to entertain us but instead to provide the minimal necessities to sustain a person's life. 
This concept was also reflected by the objects that idly occupy the room. Designed for practicability, the tables and chairs and even the clock lack individual colour. White and clean, it is purposeful in removing any expressions of individualism. 

We now cast our attention to the bed. With tubes and wires hanging from the bed head, the bleakness of the room is magnified. We zoom our observing lens onto the occupant of the bed and find ourselves gazing on a girl with petite facial features. Her eyes are closed. Her chest rise effortlessly up and down and for a moment we get lost in thoughts. 
How long has she been like this? - Oh that's right two weeks, we remind ourselves. We cast our thoughts aside and resume our observation on the girl. 

Under the white bandages around her head are locks the colour of autumn leaves. Not the bright orange hue but one of the deep brown that is soft to the eye. 

Gentle pitter patter can be heard, we look out to the window and witness the slow descent of water drops from the grey clouds and onto the glass window.
The rhythmic sounds of the rain was gently coaxing the girl to wake up from her deep sleep. 

To our amazement, at the corner of our eyes small movements were coming from the girl's body. We squinted our eyes in an attempt to funnel all of our attention onto her body and there again we see movement. 

We scrutinise our perception, is our impatience and boredom beginning to distort our reality or did the girl who has been asleep for two weeks finally showing signs of her awakening. 

Voices and footsteps, situated outside the room, grow louder by the second, we retreat back to our corner and carefully observe the room.

Two figures dressed in a mundane grey colour enter the room, one with short hair while the other with rather long hair tied into a tight ponytail. The dynamic of their relationship was evident in the ebb and flow of the conversation between the two. One was doing all the talking while the other responded with the simple movement of her neck allowing her to either nod or shake her head. 

"It is such a pity that a girl this young is slowly being wasted, don't you think Claire?," said the lady with short hair. 

Claire simply responded with a quick nod and resumed her duties as a nurse. Approaching closer to the girl's bed, she began her daily routine of checking the vitals of the patient and recording everything she sees onto the paper inside a clipboard, the other nurse on the other hand continues to waffle on. The irritable way in which the  lady with short hair speaks in has temporarily grasped our attention. Her voice wasn't loud yet the sound that came out of her lips resonated significantly within the room, tired were our ears we began to wonder whether Claire's sanity was slowly wearing away brought upon the bombardment of nuisances coming out of her partner's mouth. 

Small movement is made once more from the girl's body and this time it has caught Claire's keen eyes, the other nurse seems to have also caught up with the situation as she has stopped rambling. Edging closer to the girl's bed, both figures examine the situation in silence. 

The rolling of the eyeballs side to side beneath the thin layer of her eyelids.
The battering of the lashes.
Small twitches made by the fingers. 

Along with the nurses, we held our breath as we witnessed the awakening. 
Sounds of the clock was more prominent, the smell of disinfectant became more heavy between our nasal cavities. The air was saturated with apprehension. 

As the long hand of the clock twelve, the girl's eyes opened signifying her departure from her sleep spell and on cue the nurses alerted her doctor of the girl's awakening. 
As we witness Claire offering reassuring words to the girl, telling her that everything is alright, we, in the corner of the room, started to ponder on the weird sensation that was filling up our body. 

A sense of foreboding can not be ignored that was brewing within us. Something was impuissant, like a vulnerable puzzle whose strutural integrity can instantaneously be compromised with one flick of a finger. 

Our eyes dawn once more on the awakened girl and to our surprise she is looking straight into our eyes. 
However we reassure ourselves that it is impossible to have our presence noticed, the girl and everyone else in this world simply cannot see us. Omniscient and undetectable, we are just passive by-passers observing our surrounding and when the curiosity within us is quenched, we will simply move on. However, right now we have not budged and not planning to either, not until we find more about the girl. 

4:10pm

The doctor finally arrived and came to the bedside. 

"Hi I am Steve,your doctor, you are in the hospital do you remember what happened?"

The girl pursed her lips and shook her head. The doctor as though he wasn't expecting anything less, simply nodded his head and asked whether the girl remembers her name. 

This time the girl did not give a quick response. We can see from the creases forming between her eyebrows, she was having difficulty in recalling her name. For a moment we feel sorry for her but then we remind ourselves to not get emotionally attached. 

The doctor once again gave a reassuring nod and smiled, "Your name is Choi Dayoung, you were in an accident two weeks ago and have been in a coma since then. You are currently having difficulty in remembering things but I assure you with time and rehab you will soon recover,"

Dayoung returned the smile and though she was meant to feel assured we can see from her eyes there was doubt and confusion. 
It was time to leave the room,we have overstayed and moreover our curiosity has been quenched. 

----
4:21 pm

Choi Dayoung. 
It was my name, yet I felt so detached from it. 
The doctor and nurses have left the room and told me my family is coming soon. 
I did not know what and who to expect. I don't recall any faces. Tendrils within my brain extend and curl around the confusing twists and turns of my neural compartment but despite of the time and effort to recall any details on my life, my family, it was to no avail. 

A headache soon intruded into my personal space, begging for my attention. 
To take my mind off the nagging pain, I shifted my attention to the room I was in. 

The walls were white and had a decent clock on the wall. On my side were an array of flowers and deflated balloons, I looked to the left and saw fruits that seem to have popped out of a magazine sitting on the bedside table.

The door opened and three faces I do not recognise came in. 
From the way they looked at me and the intimate tone that was embedded in their calling for my name, I deduced they were my family. 

A mum. A dad. A brother. 

We conversed a little and realised the orange haired boy was not my brother but a close friend of mine. His name, I couldn't remember but I can see why I would have been friends with him.

Shortly the doctor came in again, 

Retrograde amnesia was the medical term the doctor said I had. 
I tried hard to concentrate on his words but most of the time I faded in and out from my curious realm of reality. I was there yet I wasn't there. 

I did recall hearing words such as treatment... A year long... Cognitive... TBI... But nothing stuck.
No pieces formed a coherent picture in my mind. I felt drained of my energy, I just wanted to sleep. 
My lack of attention was probably written on my face as the doctor and soon the three familiar strangers looked at me with worried eyes. 

"Sorry I just feel very tired," 

Pitiful eyes returned my way and a hand was on my arm. 
The doctor said he will talk to me about the next steps to recovery later, and soon he excused himself out of the room leaving me with the three most important people to my old self. 

My father has made his way to the window contemplating on the rainy weather, if I was quiet enough I might even hear some occasional sighs. My mother stayed by my bedside and started taking out thermal containers. 
With her efficient and quick fingers, a bowl of soup that fills the room with herbal aromas was soon placed in front of me. 

"Drink this while it's warm," 

After that, we made some small talk and I couldn't help but feel guilty and at fault for being unable to remember. Multiple times they mentioned things hoping that their daughter in front of them can remember something, but the person in front of them just return their memories with blank eyes and apologies. 

After an hour of futile conversation, they left and promised to visit me tomorrow, I smiled and said that would be lovely and perhaps out of guilty I followed my response with a hollow mum and dad in hopes it can somewhat console them of their loss. 

The boy did not leave however, he explained he wanted to take me for a walk as he miss his old friend, I was too tired to say no so I just nodded my head. 

"Don't worry you don't need to talk just let me spend time with you," he said as he put his jacket around my shoulders. 

5:38 pm

He suggested for me to get some fresh air and since my mobility was affected after my accident, I was placed in a wheelchair.

We walked around the garden behind the grey towers of concrete. 
The air was nicer, less stuffy, less sterile. 

Like he said, the boy, pushing me along, did not initiate any conversation, we just walked in silence and I got to admit, the silence was starting to bother me. 

"Were we dating before the accident?" I posed.

The question seem to have flustered him as his eyes widened and a shade of fuscia covered his milky cheeks. 

"people often mistook us as a couple, that I will give you," he gave a small giggle then looked into my eyes once more, "but no we were not romantically linked," 

"Fair enough," We resumed our walk in the yard. I wanted to question why we weren't but I felt the air was starting to choke on the rising tension so I let the question slip away. 

We finished our walk and went back to my room. I guess he had plans later tonight as he kept glancing at his watch, 
"If you have plans you can leave, I won't mind," 

He hesitated for a while and said he will visit me from time to time and will try to help me remember things.  Then he flashed me a wide smile and my body responded in a way that is hard to express. It was like every tension knot found in my body unravelled and became a mushy puddle. 
I smiled back and asked for his name saying I forgot. 

"Jimin, " he said in his low hoarse voice and then he left the room. 

Jimin. I whispered his name and the sound that came out sounded strangely familiar, like an echo that reverberates softly into your ear but when you look around, darkness envelopes you into a tight embrace. I have no recollection of this boy yet my body remembers him. 

This difference has made me feeling displaced and out of touch from reality. My body and my memories are separated into two different entities and they are faintly linked, the feeling is curious. It's like I am not Choi Dayoung but another person and I have invaded her body and stole her identity, yet I know I did not commit these acts. I looked out my window and surveyed the environment outside my enclosed four white walled room. 

The sky was a brilliant blue colour with tinges of orange and pink swirled around the hundreds pockets of white fluff, a pair of birds coursing their way across the dusk setting following a flock of birds dancing and performing their ritual routine in the sky. 

A throbbing pain was starting to escalate in my head, it started off as a slow and steady nagging pain but now it has turned into a monstrous turbulence.

The nurse was called and she handed me a few painkillers. Perhaps from the exhaustion or from the pain, sleep soon enveloped me.

----

The sun was hidden behind a blanket of clouds, I diverted my eyes form the sky and to my immediate surrounding. Green grass, oak trees scattered around the area. 

Then at the corner of my eye, I spot a couple. 
The boy whose hair is a platinum blonde covers the top half of his face, his skin is white and glistening in the sunlight. By his side is a girl with dark blonde hair plaited into a braid. With her head down, her face was hidden but something was not right. I can't help but feel threads within the cavern of my rib cage twisting and tightening into knots. An air of melancholy surrounded me: the leaves descend from their greatest peak and float aimlessly in the air before it plunges down to its lowest trough, even the birds that took refuge in the trees gave distinct poignant cries, something here was suffering. 

I continued to watch the couple for reasons i don't know, but an invisible string is reeling me in, my feet taking me near a tree allowing the boy and girl within my vintage point. 

The boy whose face is blurred and unclear is talking to the girl. Though I can't hear what they are saying, the expression the boy wore and the body language exhibited by the girl told me it's nothing great. 

The scene that played before my eyes seemed so familiar yet so distant.  I became more aware of my hands that soon broke into perspiration. 
I wiped them on my thighs and when I returned my gaze back onto the couple, the girl has left the bench and was walking away from the boy. The blonde haired boy, not giving any glimpses of the girl, also started his way in the opposite direction of her.

A summer fling has ended, I mused.
Before I knew it,  the boy has made his way in front of me. I held my breath, my mind buzzing with energy. 
Do I apologise for intruding into their private matters? Do I say hi first? 
 before I could even begin, he walked past me. I felt compelled to apologise, I ran and stopped in front him and held out my arms hoping to get his attention. 

Nothing, instead the most outwardly thing happened, my body became transparent and he walked straight through me. 

The perfect hue of the sky started to disintegrate into a swirling storm of dark matter, the trees disappeared and soon the ground below me gave way. 
I was falling, or more that I had the sensation of falling. 

I jerked my body up and my breathing has quickened. I reexamined my surrounding. It was the same white walled room, I looked around, same table and chairs. 

A dream. Just a dream. I thought

12:35am 

After I recollected my thoughts, I've realised the painkillers must have been a  strong dose as it knocked me out in minutes, or perhaps my longing for sleep was beyond its threshold. Whatever it is, it's in the early hours of the morning and I should try to sleep again. 

However with each twist and turn, I can not fall asleep, my eyes seem to be prying itself open. 
I laid there on my bed staring at the ceiling, thinking, just thinking about trivial matters. I allowed my mind to flow through the valleys of my brain, let it explore and flow with the pace my brain wants it to have. 

I was thinking back to yesterday afternoon: when I woke up feeling confused and lost, then the boy whose smile is still engrained in my memory and my train of thoughts stopped at its final destination: the dream. 

I recalled the couple talking, most probably trying to sort out their issues however things did not end happily. A droplet of your tear coursed its way down your cheek. 

A tear, I did not expect. 
Perhaps I sympathised the couple, I thought but the feeling inside of me, it was something that I had in my dream.

It was tugging me, pleading for my warmth. It was not out of malice nor good will, it just wanted me to address it. 
But I don't know how to approach it, I don't even know where it is. 

The dream. The dream, where the blonde-haired boy whose identity I don't know, has significantly affected me. 
Was this boy someone important to me before the accident, is that why I had a dream of him? Is that why I feel such great nostalgic attachments towards him? 
I don't know. I couldn't even see his face nor the girl so how would I know? Even if we walked past each other I would not know. 

Then out of the corner of my eye, a shadow appeared near my window. 

"Whose there?!" I questioned into the air. 
The shadow casted against the window lingered there for a moment and then as sudden as it has appeared within my vicinity, it was gone.

I would love to walk to the door and check who it was but my awkward coordination will impede my walk and I am far too exhausted to push through just to check the identity of the shadow
so I laid there, with one arm under my head and the other resting on my belly, I laid there.