It must be a dream.    The doorbell continues to ring, annoyingly, and I am in the hallway, on the floor, crawling to reach the door. But the door seems to be moving farther away from me every time I move forward. Yet I continue my strive to greet the visitor.    “Jae.” Shockingly, it’s Brian’s voice and it comes from just behind the door. My heart pounds and I start to sweat. I stop moving.    “I’m waiting,” he says before another familiar scream takes place.
   It’s already 1 in the afternoon and Brian is still not here. He had texted me two hours ago, saying, OUT SHOPPING BROKE POT. He must have had broken something and has to buy a replacement for it – it must have been a rice cooker or a cooking pot.    I sigh. “That clumsy airhead.”    I take a rough bite on the apple in my hand; its spine showing off and there’s only a few patches of red skin left on. I feel restless and bored. I wish I can just use the crutches now but Doctor Jung had insisted that I be patient and start using them tomorrow.    “What can I do?” I ask myself out of boredom, almost in a singsong way. I look at the wheelchair facing the bed I'm on, leaning on the cabinet, just under the sink. Maybe I can go around by myself.    I carry myself slowly, using the wall to my right as support. My left leg, bandaged, is numb so I move using my only available leg and the muscles of my cheeks, pushing my body to lean against the wall as I put my strength to shift myself to the side to reach the end of the bed, creating an uncomfortable friction between my bottom and the sheets under. When I'm only a hand-stretch away from the folded wheelchair, I begin to think twice of my decision to see Anonymous by myself. I imagine how painful and tiring it will feel to constantly push the wheels with my hands from the second floor to the canteen area.    It’s quiet, I think to myself. The scream is rather soft today – sometimes absent. Is it because Anonymous isn't here? Is it because I'm becoming used to it?    There’s that tiny voice inside me – and it’s not the scream – telling me that it is due to me slowly realizing my need for help.    “How can you help me when you are yet to help yourself?”    I have that feeling that I know what’s really going on and yet I can't put it into mind. It's irritating and yet I feel like it’s for the best that I remain clueless. I feel safe this way.    “Jae!” Doctor Jung whistles and shakes me off my deep thoughts. “What are you doing?”    I stare at him, dumbfounded. He has his hands on his knees as his bangs cover his forehead and brows, his lips pouting. I stammer, “Nothing, nothing.”    I realize I'm still sitting at the end of the bed, not by the pillow. I try to make up a more convincing answer while there’s still chance, “I consider this a small exercise before I start walking on feet again.”    Doctor Jung, though, is not entirely convinced. “Oh, good,” he says in a doubting tone. “Don’t push yourself too hard. Where’s your friend?”    He steps back, crossing his arms under his chest after fixing a pen inside the left pocket of his white coat.    “He’s on his way,” I reply. “Are you having your break right now?”    “That’s right! I was heading out to the canteen area but I saw you looking rather upset about something… so I thought I should stop by and keep you company for a while.” He sits with me on the bed and I can smell the spicy fragrance of his perfume. My heart pounding as he tilts his head slightly, his eyes meeting mine.    “T-that’s very extra of you, doctor.”    He smirks and looks at his front, watching the nurses rushing by, to-and-fro, outside my room’s door. “Not as extra as what the guy who came in 2 weeks ago did. You've heard of it, right? The man who fell off a scaffold from the fourth floor of one of the Heart Venue Apartments?”    “No.”    “Oh, it’s tragic,” he stops for a while and comes closer to me as he mock-whispers, “I shouldn’t be talking about this as a doctor but some of my co-workers have spoken about this already, anyways, and it’s already all around social media, so…”    I laugh out loud. How can he talk so much with that poker face of his? He looks more like a reserved person upfront but listening to him chatting up this