|Baek|

 

There are seven billion people in the world, millions of combinations of alleles, and yet the devil had taken the wheel and had given me the worst genes.

 

He also took the wheel of the man who was driving on the road under influence on that spring day. May 6, 2006, my fourteenth birthday, as well as the day my father died. It was supposed to be a happy day for my family, but it all changed in one accident.

 

It was a day I remember so clearly, I don’t want it but the pain and nightmares are resurfacing like dirty sea foam bubbling in the ocean. I remember sitting in the back seat, as the car engine humming steadily. As I was gazing out of the window, I saw a thick pine tree holding two birds. One of the birds lifts back its neck, spreading its beak wide, and the other smaller bird craned in the opened beak. The tiny bird was feasting on a tiny pink worm. It was just a blur, as the car sped past the birds in their natural habitat. A sudden gust of wind and a loud honk rung my ears. The car suddenly skidded to an abrupt stop, my body accelerated forward as the seatbelt pulled back, digging into my chest and crushing my chest bone. I remember yelling “Mom! Dad!”, and my dad made a sharp turn to the right, seconds before the approaching car collided into ours. It was a fatal turn, that killed him, but he saved mom and me.

 

 I remember feeling the car being compressed, as the other car flipped ours. The glass windows shattered.

I remember seeing the sharp crystals floating in the air, while I laid helplessly on my side of the door.

 

I remember reaching out of the broken window, gripping onto the green grass on the side of the road, holding onto my breath of life.

 

 I remember looking up, seeing the three birds standing on the tiny branch, the two outside birds leaning their heads into the center of the little bird in the middle, forming a heart. I coughed out into a tiny smile, thinking it would be the last sight before I out.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

|Chan|

 

“Steady... Deep breaths Mr. Park,” Dr. Kim instructs as he presses the cold silver stethoscope onto my back.

 

 I in the air in, filling my belly and lungs, and slowly inflate my lungs balloons out of my mouth and nose, while counting to three each time the oxygen circulates through my body. In and out. In and out, can do this, I Ithink, until air abruptly chokes my throat. I clasp my hands over my mouth, curl into a fetus position as the coughing rips my throat and lungs. The more I try to hold in the cough, the more the blood forces itself out of my mouth, staining the white sheet.

 

“Don’t hold it in! Just let yourself cough!” Dr. Kim says. I let my hands fall off my mouth, letting the blood drip out. When the coughing finally subsides, the doctor gives me a white cloth. I use the fabric to wipe the remaining blood off my face and hands.

 

“Thank you doctor,” I mumble, handing him back the stained cloth.

 

“You’re welcome, Mr. Park. Make sure to let yourself cough next time you experience another episode like this.”

 

I timidly nod, “I will.”

 

Suddenly, my mom burst through the door, crying out.

 

She is panicking, “Chan! Are you okay?”

 

“Yes, I’m okay Ma.” I hold her hands, calming me her down. I buff up my chest and flex my arms, “See Ma, I’m still your strong boy. Look at these guns!!” I grin.

 

She pulls me into an embrace, “Oh Chan, my silly boy.” She snuggles into my neck. I feel wet drops dripping on the side of neck, wetting my shirt. “Chan, I wish I could take away all your pain away. And sometimes, I wish you could stop hiding your pain that you endured behind that smile. Baby, Ma is here, you don’t have to fake it. It is okay to cry Chan.” My mom chokes a cry, gripping my shirt tighter than before.

 

I try to hold back the tears behind my eyes, but fail as glass beads slowly slide down my cheeks, “Ma, I’m okay really. You don’t need to worry. I’m not going to die Ma.” I say, while her soft black hair.

 

“Chan!” Mom wails, tightening her embrace, holding onto my life.

“Dr. Kim, please tell me much time do I have left?” I ask softly.

 

“Mr. Park without surgery you would have about three months, but if the surgery success, you can enjoy your life for another three years.” He replies. “But let me tell you Mr. Park, your chances of operation survival is about ten percent.”

 

             “I will take that ten percent chance doctor. When can we schedule a procedure?”

 

             “The earliest date open right now is June 3, which is in a month.”

 

            “Yes Dr. Kim, we will take that date”

 

            “Very well” he turns to my mother. “Ms. Park we will do our best. I really believe that this operation will be a success.” the doctor smiles as he quickly typed my name in a time slot.

 

            “Thank you Dr. Kim, I trust you.”

           

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

|Baek|

           

            I never liked the antiseptic smell of hospitals. It reeks of mortality. It reminds me of my loneliness and disease. This place that is filled with false hope. A shrine that modern believers worship. They offer thousands of dollars to their doctors who are their gods and spirits, believing and hoping that they will get to live a little longer. A battle field that’s rotting with death bodies, yet me and mom, like the many others who come here every month to get treated, hear disappointing news with every visit.

           

            The chilly sensation from the cold metal stethoscope scrawls around my chest as the doctor places it on my heart. Ba bump, ba bump, ba bump. My heart beats steadily. I let out a sigh of relief.

           

            “How is he Dr. Lee?” my mom asks looking at me worriedly.

           

            “Mr. Byun’s heart is trying.” He sighs heavily. “He is doing his best, but the condition is just getting worse. I can hear that extra beat fainting in the background.” Dr. Lee shakes his head, letting out a heavy sigh.

 

            “No, my Baek is strong. Are you sure Dr. Lee?” she panics. I quickly hold her hand, trying to calm her down.

            “Mom, it is okay. I’m okay,” I mumble. I try to keep a straight face, hiding my worries and disappointment.

 

About four years ago, I remember waking up in this same hospital, and receiving news about my father’s death from the car accident. My mom was devastated from the news, she was a walking, lifeless corpse, and meanwhile I was trying to bury the bloody memories into the depths of my brain. I tried to continue my life as normal as possible, however the peace I would acquire would always be the calm  before a storm that would always whirl me back to hell whence I came.

 

A few months after the accident, I came back to the hospital. At the brink of death due to a heart attack, but miraculously I was able to breathe again, however I was diagnosed with cardiac arrhythmia. My routine from that day on was completely scrambled with taking medicine and doctor appointments. A heart monitor device was planted on top of my chest. I call it my life saver, because it will alarm me when my heart breaks out into abnormalities.

 

As a student at an all-boys high school, it hurts my pride to be sitting out on the bench while watching the other boys play. I was once on the varsity basketball before my heart started to fail me. I have snuck into the vacant gym after school many times, just so I could bounce a red ball again. The empty space echoes with loud thumps as I dribble on the court, and with a knife-like swish, I cut the air as I swing the basketball into the white hoop. But like always, nothing good lasts for me, because right after my victory for making a basket, my heart squeezed in a painful rhythm that almost cost my life. From that day on, physical activities were off limits. What I thought was happiness, was actually a sharp spear that could end my life at any time. I later began to isolate myself from my friends, and even my mom. Eventually, everyone drifted away so far that I could not reach for them again. I trapped myself in my closed bedroom, and the school rooftop at lunch. I wished to float freely like the endless drifting clouds in the light blue sky. I wished the wind would sweep me away with them, but I could not do it.

 

            “Ms. Byun, the only way to save Baek is a new heart.” Dr. Lee said.

 

            And every day I wait for the good news, a promise of a new heart, but everything is just empty hope.