I'm feeling helpless.   I wanted to move, but every part of my body says I can't.   Even just the tip of my finger, just to assure my desperate mind that I'm still unluckily alive.   But it won't. And if I insist more, I'll only end up with this automatic wetness from my deep closed eyes flowing through the side of my face.   I'm shedding tears. I've been shedding tears for like, a couple of straight weeks.   I'm shedding tears and I can't stop myself.     I wanted to say something but seems like my mouth is fighting against it.   It felt like it has been overly dried for weeks. I can't even open it for heaven's sake.   Even just a groan, or a simple hum, just anything sound that can come out through my useless mouth.   Please.     I wanted to open my heavy eyes. But it won't listen to me, instead, it's becoming heavier and worse.   I hate the darkness. I hated seeing nothing.   I wanted to see her. Just her.   And you can let me sleep for how many centuries you want.   I just.. I desperately need to see her.     I'm hearing voices. Sobs. Whispers. I hear my name.   I hear my sister begging for me to wake up. I am awake, what the hell is she saying?   Then I hear another voice. A warm soothing one that I believe it belongs from my cousin Yuri.   Asking me to be strong and come back alive.   What the heck is everyone's saying?   I am alive.   I can feel myself breathing, I am actually hopelessly needing for oxygen.   But this stupid machine beside me and its annoying sound makes me want to believe I'm nearly death that one hell move, I'll be straight falling into this place of souls. No Jessica, No Yuri, No Tiffany, No everyone.   Why does it feels like real?   Am I already dead?   If yes, then what's this unbearable pain I'm feeling just around my chest?   This pain that I can't control anymore. It's getting worse each day. Like it wanted to swallow my whole body.   I need doctors. Or maybe I need God.   Is it possible for a person to feel like this?   This is almost unbelievable. Too merciless.   Too unfair.                   -----------------------                   It's been a hell month for Jessica.   A tiring, hopeless, devastated month.   Taeyeon is still unconscious for a month now. And all she does is keep herself stucked on this chair beside the hospital bed with nothing to do but stare at her sister while trying to count the countless tears flowing from her swollen eyes.   It has always been like this for the whole 30 days. Same routine, same position, same thoughts, same pleads.   This explains those dark circles under her eyes that are slowly reaching her cheeks. Until now, she hasn't had a formal sleep. As much as she can remember, the longest rest she spent is almost 2 hours. Almost.   This also explains how skinny she is now. Is skinny still appropriate to describe her? Her cheekbones are very much visible on her face. You can actually grip her arms and it perfectly fits in your hand. She looks like she lose a lot of blood that made her look pale, white, sick. She still hasn't had a proper meal. She always lose her appetite, always. A piece of bread is enough for her food in a day.   She looks so pathetic. Like someone had died and she can't get over with.   Well, it's kind of almost like that.   For heaven's sake, Taeyeon has been sleeping for a month now. For someone weak like Jessica, she can't help but feel hopeless. The doctors have been saying the same thing.     She's in a coma. Let's just wait until she wake up.     Wait until she wake up? What kind of definition do they have on that phrase?   Weeks? Months? Years? Decades?   If she's dying then they can just say it straight.         "I brought you Dinner." An old manly voice echoed around the room with a ruffling sound of plastic bags.   Jessica only stayed silent. Eyes still glued on this patient.   Then she heard footsteps approaching her.   "You need to eat." A warm hand placed on her shoulder.   Jessica just nodded. Letting the tears fall as she moved her head.   "Jessica." This time, she felt arms around her. A very warm, comforting one.   "Taeyeon will be mad if she knew you're being like this." He whispered before wiping the stained tears on Jessica's cheeks.       "She has to wake up and tell me." Jessica's struggling voice echoed the room. It's hoarse from all the crying she did every night.   "You know her very well. She doesn't have to tell you."   Jessica let out a sad sigh before speaking again.   "I need her to tell me."   "Can't I tell you instead?"     A long silence filled them.   Jessica paused for a second. Letting the tears flow uncontrollably to avoid choking on her words.     "I need her to wake up, Daddy." To her dismay, she choked on her words. Earning a tight hug from her father.   "She will wake up, sweety. Let's just wa--"   Mr. Jung's words were cut off with Jessica sudden action. She roughly removed the arm around her and stood up.   "She has been unconscious for a month now! I've been fighting myself to stay awake so if she move, I can see it! But no. Nothing! Tell me, how long should I wait more!?" Jessica cried.   "Jessi." Mr. Jung tried to take his daughter open arms but Jessica stepped back.   "I'm getting hopeless, Dad. I need her. I need Taeyeon. I need my sister." Jessica stare. Behind those swollen eyes and pleading voice, Mr. Jung can see pain.   "She will come back, okay!? Taeyeon will wake up soon. We just have to be strong for her. You have to be strong for her."   "I'm trying, Dad." Jessica fell on her knees. Immediately, she felt strong arms around her. "Believe me, I'm trying. But I know myself. I am weak. I'm weak but I'm trying. But..... But it's getting too much." Jessica sobbed. Burrying her face into her Dad's chest while her hands tightly gripped on his shoulders.   "I'm here for you. Let me help you. You don't have to feel this all alone."     Jessica didn't said anything after that.   She just let herself melt in her father's warm comforted hug.   She's not a very intimate, dramatic daughter that needs a hug when she's crying or needs to be kiss on the cheek when she had done something great. She's not like that. Never been.   But right now, she just need one hug.   One hug from anyone who can give her comfort, not sympathy. Encouragement, not expectations.           "I'll just get you some clothes back home. Will you be okay alone?" Mr. Jung asked, taking her daughter's hands.   With all the remaining strength