Y O O N A

This illness.

Fullerton’s.

It changed my life.

I stopped going to work. I didn’t have to do the household chores any longer. I lost a couple of pounds in a few days. I slept more frequently. I cried more often, too.

This illness.

It also changed the way people around me behaved. Yoseob no longer ordered me to cook. My father visited our apartment everyday and hired a nurse to take care of me. My cousin Sulli also came over regularly. She’d play games with me, tell me stories, and tried to make me laugh more often than usual.

But, still, to see the worried look on their faces killed me. As a child, I wanted to grow up and be strong and healthy.  I wanted to help and support my family. I didn’t want to be the source of their sorrow. Sometimes, I wish that no one knew me. I wish that I grew up an orphan without a family to call her own.

I was hurting everyone around me. I was hurting the people who loved me. And I hated it.

On the bright side, the pills seem to be working. For one thing, I feel less tired and a hint of color has returned to my cheeks. Still though, my recent lab results showed that I still have the malignant cells in my body.

“Just pray that it will work,” the doctor said just as I was about to leave during my third visit that week. But his eyes told me otherwise. He looked as hopeless as my father.

Finally, after a couple of days, I was allowed to take a walk at the park. My nurse, Hyoyeon, insisted on going along with me but I persuaded her that I was strong enough to go by myself.

“Besides,” I said as I put on my jacket. “The park is only three minutes away from here. Come on, Ms. Hyoyeon. The fresh air would do me good.”

“If you say so, Your Highness,” the nurse finally conceded. “But bring your cell phone and make sure my number’s on auto dial. I want you to call if you feel anything strange.”

“I will! I will!” I called out as I hopped down the stairs (I couldn’t run down like I usually would). The pills also gave me back some of my energy. I just hope that they’d work.

I was walking down the sidewalk a couple of meters from my apartment when I realized that someone was following me.

I turned around and saw someone wearing a giant trench coat and hat hiding behind a lamp post. I chuckled to myself. Nurse Hyoyeon, I told you I’d be fine! There’s no need to tail me.

I kept on walking and inhaled deeply.

The park was across the street now. It looked glorious beneath the morning sky. The trees reached out their viridian branches to the heavens while the clouds hung just above the horizon, almost touching the hilltops. There were children playing here and there – their colorful clothes spicing up the green carpet of grass.

Please, God, I prayed. Make me live a little longer. I want to enjoy this world just a little bit longer.

I was standing at the end of the crosswalk, waiting for the sign on the opposite side to turn green when I felt someone tap my back.

I turned around and stood face to face with Trench-coat.

But the thing is, this wasn’t Hyoyeon.

It was someone else.

It was a man wearing a mask and a pair of shades.

I tried to scream, but Trench-coat already put his hand on my mouth. Before anyone else could react, the man dragged me to a nearby car and pushed me into the backseat. He slammed the door, got in, and soon, we were driving out of there.