FIVE

“This is a bad joke Dara.” I choked out.

She tried to unclasp our hands but I only held her tighter. How could I let her go now? I felt as though she was water slipping through my fingers. “You think that I would joke about death? That I could ever talk about dying lightly? That I would use my life as a badly written punch line?”

She looked sad and tired. I felt another piece of my heart drop on the floor. “No.” I said while trying to gather my wits together. “But I’m hoping that you would. That this is really just a nightmare. That this is really just a badly written ing punch line.” I bit out, cringing a little for cursing.

“Jae,” she faced me, her eyes shining with fresh tears, “I’m so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I don’t want to hurt anyone. But,” she took a deep breath to collect herself, “I’ve been living in this nightmare for years. So if you do wake up, will you please wake me up too?”

I ran.

I’m not proud of what I did but it was the only thing that I could do at that point. I left her without saying anything. Without even trying to console her or comfort her. Or tell her that I would be okay. Because I was not, my heart was breaking faster than I could get as much distance between us.

I was scared.

To be perfectly honest, I was terrified. I’ve never been more terrified in my life.

And then I was mad. At my father and at Dara’s father. What the hell were they thinking? Hours later I stood outside my father’s house. Shaking with a confused mixture of fear and anger. He was my father for Pete’s sake. How could he let me be vulnerable again? How could he introduce anything or anyone that could ever hurt me? He knew what I went through. What I was still going through with my mother’s death.

“How could you?” I yelled at my father as soon as the doors open.

“Jae?” He blinked as I shoved past him.

I was too angry be respectful. This was crossing the line. “How could you do this to me? How could you put me through this again?” I asked, my voice cracking as it rose several ugly octaves.

I was expecting him to play dumb. To say that he wasn’t aware about Dara’s condition. Deep inside me was the hope that my father would never intentionally hurt me.

But he just sighed, that long familiar sigh that I knew ever since I was boy. He knew.

I was too stunned to put out an angry façade. “Why?”

“I’m sorry that you had to go through this son.” He said, his eyes mirroring my own anguish. “But I was scared and I hope that this would help you live even if it would hurt you in the process.”

“Dad, what the hell are you saying?”

He said nothing as he closed the door with a