A/N: Inspired by the game Don't Take This Risk. For those who never heard of the game, it covers the aspect of suicide, not too deeply, but it makes you think.

19/02/2009
3:27 AM

The silhouette of her surrounding sharpened by the muted yellow light from out her window told her that it was still too early to be awake. She scrunched her tired eyes, pulling her heavy eyelids apart as a yawn began to build up at the back of . The familiar shrill ringing accompanied by a vibration of her pillow pointed her out to the thing that woke her.

What time was it?

Turning on her side her bleary sight focused on the red lights of her led clock. She planted her face to the soft cushion of her pillow and groaned. 3:28. Far too early.

The vibration on her face and the intermittent ringing reminded her of her cellular phone. She mentally debated whether to answer it or ignore the who dare call her at an ungodly hour.

Her hands reached for the phone, turning it around. The light, though dimmed to the minimum, had her reel her head back a little. A quick adjustment of her sights and she was squinting as she read the caller id.

Unknown number, it said.

Her thumb ghosted over the dotted circle on her screen.

To the red. Or to the green?

Left or right?

Her thumb swiped over the screen, quickly putting the phone against her ear as her face plopped back onto her pillow. Curse my good Samaritan upbringing, she thought closely followed by, this better be important.

“Hello?” she muttered, barely above a whisper.

The other line was silent, save for the white noise that indicated to her that the other line hadn’t cut the call, yet.

“Hello?” she repeated, her irritation carrying over to her voice. She was never a morning person. And it was 3 in the morning. Her annoyance was understandable, she justified.

“I’m- I’m sorry for disturbing your- Is… is this the… did.. did I call the right number?” A hesitant voice asked. It was clearly female, cool and even behind the uncertainty. Then, in a smaller voice so quiet that she had to press the phone closer to her ear the voice asked. “Is this the hotline? Can.. can you help me?”

The earlier irritation vanished as the soft plea registered in her mind. The heaviness in her eyelids began to lift as she pushed up to a sitting position on the bed. She opened , realizing how it felt like a bunch of cotton was shoved into . No words come out, except what might have been a small squeak of surprise. Her mind draws a blank.

Is this real?

“H-hello?” The wavering voice on the other line has her snapping close.

What was she to say? Would it be alright to ask if she was alright? Of course, she’s not alright. She’s calling in the middle of the night! To call the hotline… it was The Hotline she was asking for, right? Of course, it was. No, wait! Maybe the caller meant the other emergency hotline.

A scratchy sigh brings her out of her confused train of thought. “I- I’m sorry. I must have the wrong… number.” A chuckle. “I knew I shouldn’t have called.”

“Are you alright?” The question shoots from , startling her, and possibly the caller with her little too loud voice. She clears , reminding herself to modulate her loudness. She her dry lips and took a breath. “You… you’re not thinking of…” she swallows tightly. “killing.. yourself, are you?” the sentence brings a vile taste to . She wanted to run to the bathroom and rinse .

Another chuckle was the response she got. She couldn’t help but notice how forced and empty it sounded. “I’m.. I’ll be.. I’m fine. You’re not…” the caller’s sentence trails. She hears the caller taking a deep breath, and as much as she concentrates, trying to catch any minute sound to try and figure out the caller’s whereabouts, or at least to know she’s not alone, the caller starts speaking again, louder and more fluid this time. “I’m sorry, miss. It looks like I really did dial the wrong number. I’m sorry for my inconsideration. I must’ve woken you up. I shouldn’t hold you any longer. I’ll hang up now.”

“Wait. No, wait. You wanted someone to talk to, right?” she hurriedly asked, hoping to keep the caller on the line. Morbid thoughts come unbidden into her mind and she shuddered at the possibility of one of those occurring to the midnight caller. Despite the sudden change of tone, the words had still felt empty, as if she has already resigned from battling. Her conscience wouldn’t be able to take it if she were to end it here, not when she had the chance to help. “You can talk to me.”

The caller was silent. She dared not move, taking measured breaths to make sure to hear any minute movements from the other line.

“You can talk to me about anything you want.” She prompted again, hoping to get the woman on the other side talking.

“Anything? Like.. like what?” The confidence in her voice was gone, back was the uncertainty. She could already imagine the caller fiddling with her fingers nervously, like what she was doing at the moment.

“What’s your name? My name is Tiffany.”

“Ti.. ppany. You have a very pretty name miss.”

“Thank you… May I know your name?”

“I.. My name… it’s not important.. I-I’m nobody… I’m sorry. I’m taking up your valuable time. It’s late too. I should just go.”

“No! No!” Tiffany panicked, her voice raising a notch. “I’m.. It’s no problem. I’m awake.” What was the right thing to do? She should keep the caller on the line, right? Her voice, it doesn’t sound like she was crying or in any kind of pain. Should she pass her on to the real hotline? It should be easy to look it up, smart phones have come a long way. But when she cuts the line, can she trust the caller to actually call the hotline? Tiffany didn’t have an obligation to this caller, but she knew her conscience would never let her forget if she let this go.

Call the police. But then what? She didn’t know the caller’s name or where she was.

Keep the caller on the line. Make sure she’s alright. Find out where she is.

“Where are you right now?”

“I’m… somewhere.. where it’s dark.” The caller chuckled. “I think.. I might be a little drunk. Just a little.”

“You had a drink? Were you with anyone? Are you near any shops right now? Restaurants?”

“The ground… it’s too cozy for me to get up.” That was no help.

“How much did you drink?”

“I told them I won’t drink so much. They let me. They understand. I’ve been so tired lately.”

“Who’re they? Were you with your friends?”

“My friends, they are too good to me.”

She wasn’t answering any of her questions, not directly anyway. Like she was being careful of what to answer, and yet it sounded like the alcohol was starting to get to her. Tiffany chewed her bottom lip.

Keep her on the line. Help her.

This was numbingly terrifying, knowing the fate of the person on the other end can go either way. It could all depend on how she handled the matter.

Maybe she could take another approach. 

She pressed the phone closer to her face, not so much as to hear the caller better but more so to keep her shaking hands from dropping her phone. “Okay, how about you tell me something about your family.”

“My.. family?” The caller parroted.

“Yeah, like.. where do you and your family live? What are they like?”

The caller hesitated, just briefly. “My… I used to live with my parents in a small town. I guess you could call it a paper town, not really much happening there.. My mother, she was a really nice woman. Everyone knew her, in my.. home town. Caring, she used to fuss over me for the littlest thing, you know, like all mothers.” The caller’s voice had taken on a lilting quality, projecting the fondness she had for her mother. Tiffany was quick to note the careful use of the past participle, having done it herself on multiple occasions for the past years. Her heart clenched, lips setting into a tight, straight line to keep herself from disturbing the caller. “Oh, she used to make me cakes and cookies that were just out of this world, you wouldn’t believe this wasn’t heaven when you get a taste of her goods. She was just.. all-around wonderful! And my father… I may sound childish when I say this, but there was no one as great and kind and loyal as he was. But I guess I’m just being biased as they were my parents.” She drawls wistfully.

A sniffle quickly follows. “Why am I still here?” The voice cracks, getting a little pitchy as the callers uneven, haggard breathing and silent sobs took over the filtering white noise. “Oh, God! Why couldn’t it have been me!” The caller suddenly burst out loud, startling Tiffany that she nearly dropped the phone. “It was my fault! It was me… It should’ve been me, not them! You stupid! Stupid! Stupid, useless girl!” Tiffany could hear a dull thumping on the other end, what she guessed may have been the caller thrashing about or hitting herself in some way. She felt a sharp pinch in her chest, her eyes burned as tears began pooling at the base of her eyelid, threatening to spill. She hadn’t felt this helpless in what had been about a decade. Not since she watched her mother withering away in a hospital bed.

“Why am I here?” The voice sounded so lost, so broken. Tiffany wondered, had she sounded exactly like the caller all those years ago, when she cried herself to sleep, pleading with any deity listening to take her instead and spare her mother. When she had withdrawn to her room, secluding herself in hopes to keep the pain at bay.

“It’s gonna be alright. You’re gonna be fine.” She whispers into the phone, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. It was as far as her thought process would go and the two sentences were the only things she repeated over and over again, in between making soft shushing noise, in hopes to somehow placate the crying caller.

The caller’s whimpering continued, her breathing getting a lot more ragged as hiccups began to blend in. The soft thumping had stopped a while back.

“It’s all my fault… I don’t deserve to live… It hurts so much.”

“Please, don’t say that.”

“What do I do? Miss.. it hurts so much.” Tiffany couldn’t answer. She sniffled, carelessly brushing the underside of her nose with her arm. It had felt slimy and cold from the mixture of her tears and viscous snot. She suddenly realized how cold the room was and pulled her feet up and tucked them closer to her body. She wondered if the caller had done the same.

“Are you cold? Do you have a blanket?”

“… I don’t.. I’m not sure. It’s so dark.”

“Are you home?”

“.. I am.. in my place.”

“You need help. Can you go to the nearest hospital?”

“I don’t want to… it’s cold there. I don’t like it there. People.. people I care about… when they go in, they never come out.” Tiffany winced but held in her emotions.

“Do you know anyone who can help you? Can you call them?”

“They’re gone… Why did they leave me?” Tiffany just barely managed to hold in a sob. Even though she’s never met the caller before she couldn’t help but feel strong emotions of sadness and grief for the unknown woman. In part, it may have had to do with the assault of the all too familiar feeling of being left behind, feelings that had felt so strong a decade ago. It wasn’t as suffocating now, having her father and friends supporting her during the delicate days following her mother’s funeral helped her in coping. Yet, despite the years, it had somehow resurfaced after the caller’s honesty and breakdown.

“I want to die.” The chilling sentence made Tiffany’s blood run cold. The panic had once again resurfaced, pushing back the grief and sadness to the back of her mind.

“No! Don’t do anything! Where are you? Where do you live?”

“No one cares if I die.”

“I do! I care! Please, don’t do anything stupid, miss!”

“Why would you care? You don’t know me.”

“Then let me know who you are. Tell me your name.” Tiffany pleaded desperately.

The other line remained silent. “Hello? Miss? Miss, please, if you’re there, please, say something. Anything.” She harshly in a breath, tasting the saltiness of her tears as they restarted their decent. “Please. Miss, please, don’t kill yourself. Talk to me.” Her voice tapered off at the end.

“What about your friends? They’d care. You said they were good to you! You can’t do this to them. You’ll hurt them too!” She desperately called out. Her phone was pressed onto her face too hard she knew it was going to leave a light indent on her face.

“You… you’re right.” The caller’s cracked voice came through. Tiffany sought out a breath of relief. “I can’t… I can’t do it… I want to die… but I’m afraid… I am so.. afraid.”

Her sobs fill in the silence, full of her sorrow and pain. It hurt to listen to her.

Tiffany rose from her bed, reaching for a pair of used slim jeans to put on. She grabbed her jacket and slipped it on, careful not to disturb her phone. She slipped her keys and wallet into her jacket pocket and carefully made her way through the darkness to the front door.

“Where are you?” The sobs continue, though diminishing in volume.

“Where are you?” Tiffany repeated, louder. “I’m coming for you.”

She hears a gasp, the sobbing stop, replaced by intermittent hiccupping. “Miss Tippany?”

“You know, I didn’t get your name.” Tiffany said softly into the phone. She slips into her car, switching the motor on and switching on the heater. 

“I’m in my car and I’m backing out. I promise you I’m going to find you. And you know what? I want to take you out for coffee, or tea if you like. I want to talk to you, and I want you to talk to me. And right now, it would really help if you give me your address and your name. I swear to you, I’m not some erted old man.” She added the last, hoping to ease the woman a little.

The woman gave a light chuckle and sighed. “Please.. don’t do that. I’ve troubled you enough.”

“I’ll be even more troubled if I drive around the whole night, not knowing where to go. I promise you I won’t tell anyone, and I won’t force you to go anywhere you don’t like. I just want to know you’re safe. I want to see that you’re alright.” Tiffany turned down the road, exiting the parking lot of the apartment complex. The road was, as expected, empty aside from the few random taxi’s making taking their passengers home. She pulled the phone from her ear, switching to speaker and placing her phone on its docket.

“I’m driving out of my apartment complex. I could really use an address right about now.”

She hears a shuffling from the other line accompanied by steady breathing. “You’re crazy. You don’t even know where I am. I might be in Busan for all you know.”

“Are you?” Tiffany challenged.

“No.”

“So, where are you?”

A sigh. “You’re really not going to drop this are you?”

“Come on, you’ve already got me out of bed-”

“I- I didn’t mean to..” her insecure voice was back. Tiffany chuckled to dispel the sombre atmosphere. They were finally getting somewhere. Tiffany felt really good about this one. She really wanted to help this person, meet and talk to her. After that, they would just have to see where it goes from there.

“Hey, I want to meet you, okay? You’re not forcing me. So please?”

The caller sighed. “I’m in Suwon.”

Tiffany grinned. “What luck. I live in Incheon, not too far.”

“That’s an hour away.”

“Plenty of time for you to get ready, then.”

21/06/2015
7:49 PM

Tiffany sighed in relief as she took off her high heels. Walking around with them pained her so much, but when is there never pain in beauty? At least now that she was back home she could rid herself from the pinching all over her feet. She should really get used to high heels.

“I’m home.” She called out, dragging her sore feet through the soft carpeted floor. She flung her purse at the couch, her body following after its trajectory and she let herself mould into the soft cushions. This was the life. Her life. She smiled at the thought. Yes, this was her life now, and it was great.

She rolled onto her back, reaching for the remote, only then noticing the tv set onto the channel of her favourite drama.

“How was work?” She turned over to look at the direction of the kitchen. A petite woman was working away at the stove where the aromatic scent of beef came from.

“Tiring, as always, but it puts food on the table. It’s a good thing that my best friend is basically the owner of the corporation and I get a lot of bonuses. Definitely makes up for all the trouble I have to deal with.” Pushing up from the couch, Tiffany stretched a few extra kinks out from hunching over paper works all day, ending with a long, satisfying yawn.

“And how was your day?” She closed the distance between them, wrapping her arms around the smaller woman’s waist and resting her chin on the woman’s shoulder to look at the steaming pot. The woman tilted her head and Tiffany grinned, leaning in to place a quick kiss on the offered cheek.

“A lot better now that you’re here.”

Tiffany playfully pinched at the woman’s waist. “Cheesy Taengoo.”

“You love me when I’m cheesy.” Taeyeon argued, waving the steaming soup spoon around.

“No. I love you, period.” Tiffany corrected, swiping the spoon from Taeyeon’s hand and dipping it into the soup stock. She took a sample sip, her approval.

“Have I told you how lucky I am to have you?” Tiffany suddenly asked, batting her eyes playfully at Taeyeon’s grinning face. Tiffany leaned in and placed a quick, appreciative peck on Taeyeon’s lips.

“Wow. I should make soups more often if that’s the reception I get.”

“You say that as if I don’t show you my love and affection every day.” Taeyeon laughed, opening her arms to engulf Tiffany in a hug.

“I love you, Tiffany Hwang.”

“And I love you, Kim Taeyeon.”

19/02/2009
5:49 AM

Tiffany looked around the café for the woman she had spoken over the phone with. Her gps had gone a little screwy and sent her on a confusing turn until she had to stop by a convenience store to ask for directions. It had set her back by a good half hour.

Her pulse beat so loudly in her ears that she couldn’t even hear the greeting of the barista stationed at the counter. She let her eyes scan the interior. Despite the early hour, there were a few people littered within the café. She figured most were students pulling an all-nighter while the rest were business people looking over their work. She continued her search, her gut squeezing in anticipation the longer she stood at the entrance.

Finally, her eyes settled onto the back of a woman sitting all alone at the far corner of the café. She was nursing what looked to be her second cup of, what Tiffany assumed was, coffee. Aside from the one empty cup moved to the side there was nothing else on her table, no notes or laptops or even a newspaper or a magazine. She was just sitting there by her lonesome, not paying any attention to her surroundings.

That must be her, Tiffany thought.

She made her way to the far end corner, her anticipation rising. When she was close enough she reached out, tapping the woman’s shoulder lightly. The woman turned and her voice caught in .

The woman looked at her carefully, curiously.

Tiffany blinked. She was a lot more beautiful as she had imagined. Is she really the woman, though? She swallowed the thickness around down and her lips. “Taeyeon?”

The woman’s eyes glinted in delight as a smile began tugging at her lips. “Hello, miss Tippany.”