Jessica

I never missed the feeling of being airborne. I never missed the annoyance when the static of the seat had made my hair cling onto it. I never missed the plastic smiles the flight attendants gave. I’d rather be alone than to have their feigned concern. But being airborne gave me at least one thing; it made me miss land, it made me thankful of the existence of land. But one thing rather, I didn’t feel airborne now, just breezy and weightless, as if I had been drifting instead of walking. For a moment, it scared me to be reminded of my time of helplessness when I was unconscious. It felt wrong, as if I was not meant to delve into this unknown place. It was empty and bare, clean and sanitary. I couldn’t move; invisible manacles held my wrists in place and stopped my feet from going any further. It was as if I had been forced to watch some sick movie.

Metal trays were arranged neatly in rows by the white wall. There seemed to be some bodied mass underneath the white sheets. I knew what they were, but couldn’t bring myself to acknowledge it. I saw myself, pale and distantly detached, walking up to one of the metal trays. This scene seemed all too familiar. No…

I thrashed against the invisible bonds, but my efforts were futile against the unwavering strength. I could only watch on in dread, pain flooding back into me. It had broken. Something inside of her had broken as she walked up towards the metal tray, her fingers touching the white sheet with fond yet melancholic remembrance. Her fingers smoothened out the sheet, touching the faint crease and caressing it until it had smoothened out. I didn’t want to watch anymore, but I could look away.

“Yuri-ah,” a single name escaped her lips as the foreign me looked on.

I watched on as she touched the ring hanging from her neck. She was doing something…something I couldn’t quite make-out. She seemed to be bending over the bodied mass, lips touching it. No emotions graced her chillingly beautiful face. She pulled back the white sheet, glimpsing at the cold and dead body of her lover. Her lover would have been beautiful, if she hadn’t had blue lips and a pale face. She didn’t stop there. She approached the one next to it and stripped the metal tray off its sheet, revealing another body. This one was even more beautiful than her lover, with delicate features and a soft, fair complexion that would have been lovely when she was alive.

“That can’t be…” I muttered, still staring at the face of the dead girl on the metal tray. “Tiffany!”

I writhed again, but it wasn’t helping. What kind of sick joke was this? The twisted version of me went up to caress Tiffany’s cold face. She let her fingers trail a little longer on her face before lowering her lips down onto Tiffany’s.

“What was the use?” a smooth voice resonated in the distance.

It sounded like the thunder, disapproving and disappointed at the same time. It was funny, though; it felt so close yet so far away.

“What was the use of everything? What was the use of loving her in the first place?” it continued.

“Who—who is there?” I called out.

The voice softened. I could tell who it was immediately. “What was the use, Sica?”

I felt my heart melt all over again at the tender voice, the entire scene banished into an empty white, where one lone person stood.

“Yuri-ah,” I said again.

“Answer me, what was the use?” her voice hardened.

“I don’t understand.”

“Why bother loving her when you’re going to give up in the end? You’re going to give her up to someone else?”

“She’s in better hands. Taeyeon’s much better than me in so many ways.”

“She failed at one thing though,” Yuri began walking towards me. “She wasn’t you.”

“When I was there, all she ever saw was Taeyeon. I grew tired listening to how great Kim Taeyeon was and how perfect she seemed to be. I couldn’t take it. She didn’t love me anymore than she would have for Taeyeon,” somehow, even to my ears, it sounded like an excuse.

“Lies,” Yuri was now standing before me and I had to take another breath at the sight of her standing so fluidly near to me. “I know you better than that. I stayed behind. I watched you and made sure that you would be happy on Earth even without me. Prove to me that I’m wrong.”

“I was happy, for the small period of time, believe me, I was happy. I was so happy, I forgot about you,” I struggled to say. “I loved it when I held her at night, but she would wake up not even knowing that it was me who comforted her and wiped away her tears. I loved it when she would brush her fingers past mine when she was nervous, but she would barely realise it. Yuri, I was happy, but that happiness was short-lived. That happiness couldn’t hold out on its own. It faded away when I realise that I can never have true happiness with her, because she’s never happy with me.”

Yuri stared down at her hands, then back at me. Her dark eyes dug deep into my eyes, searching for an answer from my vulnerable soul.

“Do you really believe that?” she asked.

I hesitated. “Yes.”

“Do you really believe that she is never happy with you? Do you really believe that Taeyeon can give her the happiness you gave her?”

It was the first time I had heard Yuri say Taeyeon’s name. She didn’t say it with contempt, but with an unsatisfied tone.

“Do you want to see her now?”

I turned away, my voice turning hard, my eyes freezing. “No.”

“I’ll ask again; do you want to see her now?”

I didn’t answer immediately, but took my time to decide. I didn’t want to see her face and make it even more difficult for me. But on the other hand, I wanted to see her so badly.

“Yes, I want to see her,” I finally said.

Yuri disappeared, and I was somewhere else, somewhere homey and familiar. The flat-screened television was propped against the wall, the faded curtains hung over the window, creating a gloomy and shadowed interior. I saw a lone figure sit with her back against the countertop, clutching something to her chest. Upon closer inspection, she was clutching the white phone against her chest, my voicemail replaying over and over again. She seemed to be lifeless, simply staring into empty space. The light I once admired in her eyes was gone. Instead, they were glassy and dull. I hated this. I hated what I’ve done to her. I have broken her already broken heart. The orange light from the streets casted shadows on her face and she blinked once. Just then, the door opened and Krystal kneeled next to Tiffany, hand resting on her shoulder.

“Unnie, what are you doing here in the dark? Come on, get up,” my sister pleaded in a soft voice I rarely heard her use. She felt guilty, I realised.

Krystal was guilty for my actions. I felt embarrassed and ashamed that my younger sister had to take up for me instead of me taking up for her mistakes. Tiffany didn’t reply. In fact, she didn’t even seem to hear her.

“You’ve been like this for hours, unnie. You should get some rest, you’re still not well.”

“Leave me alone,” the dry whisper was loud enough for me to hear the pain in her voice.

“Unnie—”

“Leave me alone.”

Krystal seemed just as broken as Tiffany was. She sat next to her Tiffany, hugging her knees to her chest with tired and wary eyes. I actually pitied her.

“I’m sorry,” Krystal breathed.

Tiffany heard it and turned to glance at the drained Krystal. “Don’t be. It’s not you.”

“Exactly. I’m sorry. I could have stopped her,” Krystal let out a dry laugh. “It knowing that I could have turned this around.”

“Even if you tried, she wouldn’t have stopped. She’s stubborn, that girl,” Tiffany mumbled, leaning her head onto Krystal’s shoulder.

I felt a flash of pain. It could’ve been my shoulder instead. Krystal breathed deeply, almost like a sigh.

“How long are you going to wait?”

“As long as it takes.”