Tiffany gasped and sputtered for air, salty water spewing from water-logged lungs, stinging and harsh. The big brawny hands on her chest stopped pumping and she rolled over to cough out her lungs like a patient with deadly consumption.

“Guacamoles in hell! I thought I really lost you there for a second girly.”

*cough!* *cough!* *cough!* *splutter!* *cough!* *splutter!*

“Yeho…you need to be coughin’ it all up girly. Just hack it all outta your system.”

*splutter!* *splutter!* *cough!* *splutter!* *cough!* *cough!*

“Sweet sassy molassy…never a-seen someone jump and fly like that girly…you looked like you were gonna sprout wings and fly to the heavens…Red Bull be damned…”

“I wouldn’t *cough!* *splutter!* go to heaven *cough!* *cough!* if I died today *cough!* *cough!*”

“Nonsense! Girl like you girly? Now how bad could you have been to deserve to be thrown into that hellhole Satan calls a playground?”

“…”

“Let me tell you something girly. You’re looking into the eyes of a killer. Killed me a man when wasn’t even one and twenty. Stabbed him and bled him like a pig with me bare hands. Watched him die. Not one ounce of remorse in those young fiery foolish bones of mine. I repented. I begged for forgiveness. I was shunned by every human and animal. And then…I lived again. Now I’m over fifty. A loving wife, three rascal children who almost ate me out of my house, and one little lovely tyke I call my sunshine. Now…is what you have done worse than my sins?”

“I killed my family.”

“*whistle* Well…then perhaps you do deserve Satan’s hellhole…tell me, how’d you do it? Gun? Knife? Or did you choke them and watch them stare into your eyes as they died?”

“…”

“Why can’t you answer me girly? If you did the deed, you can tell of it. How’d you kill them?”

“…”

“You didn’t kill them did you?”

“…”

“I’ve seen that look many a-time before girly. That’s guilt that is eating you alive. Tell me girly…if you didn’t kill them, what exactly are you guilty of?”

“Of being able to do nothing. I watched them all die. Every single one.”

“Do you really want to die and join them then girly? Do you wish I hadn’t jumped into the darn freezing waters to save you? Do you wish you had sunk to the bottom of the ocean to be eaten by the fishies?”

“…”

“You don’t. But neither do you know how to live either. I am a coarse and uneducated man. I have no fancy wisdom to give you girly. But let me tell you one thing: choosing to live was the hardest and most difficult thing I have ever done. It was a punishment in and of itself to choose to live. If you want to purge yourself of this guilt you feel, then choose the most grueling, most cruel, most brutal punishment life has to offer. You choose to live. Do not let the world tell you you shouldn’t feel guilty. Feelings are not based on logic. You feel what you feel. If you feel guilty, then you are guilty. But there are things you can do about it.”

“Does it ever get better?”

“It’s a struggle everyday, at least for a wretched sinner like me. But…for you girly…I think with the right people and the right love you deserve, you will be whole again. Do you have people who love you girly?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want them to feel the guilt you are now feeling girly?”

“No.”

“Then another reason for you to live. Would you make them watch you die? Just as you watched your family die. Would you make them live with that guilt?”

“No. I couldn’t.”

“You are quite the poor tortured soul aren’t you girly? I suspect you will have a few more brushes with Death himself before it finally sinks in. It’s not an overnight fix. A few words from an old stranger who walked the same path will not light your way like a beacon. You won’t all of a sudden find the magical will to live like you are in Narnia or some magical place girly. It’s slow going. Painful.”

“Narnia?”

“Sorry. I’ve been reading ‘The Lion, the Witch, & the Wardrobe’ to the little tyke. Anyways, what I am trying to say is, you will probably find the urge to hurt yourself again. That gash on your palm…you a cutter? Well no matter girly, perhaps you will have a few more of those cuts, a few more bruises and broken bones, and a few more tumbles off the wagon. But…I don’t think I will find an obituary for a pretty Asian girl anytime soon… You will find your way.”

“Thanks…for saving me mister.”

“T’was nothing girly. Now, let’s get you to the hospital.”

“No. I’m fine now. My motel is close by. I…I have a plane to catch tomorrow.”

“…You have a plane to catch? Then why the hell are you taking a dip in the ocean?!”

“Long story…”

“I’ll bet…girly, you are one big honkin’ mystery…”

“Mister, you saved my life. What’s your name?”

“I like the sound of mister.”

“Well then, thanks mister. I ho–”

“I hope we never see the likes of each other again girly. Now go home. Safe flight. And try to remember the ramblings of this old fool.”

“I’ll try. Thanks mister. Bye…”

“Bye girly.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The moment she stepped from the plane, Tiffany got into a taxi and headed straight home. But as she got closer, she felt more and more agitated. She felt the familiar stab of guilt grow and fester, like a sore that was oozing pus. But this time, the guilt was for a certain dongsaeng. Someone she had let down, someone she had disappointed.

In reality, she had let down everyone, but…Tiffany felt horribly conflicted for the way she had left. Specifically, the way she had left Seohyun.

Out of everyone, it wasn’t her Jessi she wanted to see the most. It was her beloved Seohyunnie. Her wonderful, quirky, goguma-loving, Seohyunnie. But at the same time, Tiffany didn’t want to see Seohyun. She didn’t know how she would even begin to fix her destroyed bond with the younger girl.

As the taxi drove along, Tiffany spotted a hooded figure ambling dejectedly down the street. The hood covered the identity of the person, but Tiffany felt the unexplainable need to see who it was. She asked the taxi to stop, paid the fair, and got out.

She stayed on the other side of the road, a little behind the figure, just watching for a bit. What she witnessed was…interesting.

The person’s sweatpants were too large for them. They kept slipping and falling down, causing the person to constantly have to pull up their pants. At one point, the sweats slipped down far enough for Tiffany to catch a glimpse of pink…Keroro underwear?

Seohyun…?

That wasn’