Insomnia, how I hate that term, especially when I'm experiencing it. Mother is in the hospital, her room is alien to me, I can't seem to remember the place of the bed, cabinet and chairs. My mind keeps drifting between consciousness and unconsciousness, the latter is but an escape to a world of thoughts and spirits and the deprivation of sleep keeps aching my stomach and my eyes.

The doctors said that Pneumonia isn't a serious disease, however, deciphering the hidden notes in their voices, I knew that it was grave. Yet, I keep pulling myself together, nurturing the idea of mother's strength in my head and filling my mind with thoughts of optimism. After all, that is what she has always taught me, to be sanguine no matter how tough the antagonists are.

She has been in the hospital for four days now, which means Taec would be home in less than ten days, I shake my head, I don't want him to return and worry over mother instead of enjoying himself home. Mrs. Carcax has been of great help, I can never thank her enough. She's been coming over to my house early in the morning, knowing that I am useless on my own, she washes my hair, gets me breakfast and drives us to the hospital to check on my mother, then she would leave for two hours and come back at times but mostly and often does she stay with me the whole day, telling me about mother's state and how her condition looks. She talks with the doctors all the time, informing me later about the latest feeds.

"The antibiotics will be given to her as soon as she settles in a room," she has said the first day we drove my mother to the hospital.

Currently, she sits beside me in a chair, soft snoring escapes her, her head is bent over and my shoulder is cushioning it. I breathe evenly, not wanting to wake her up. It's four am in the morning, the hospital is quiet here, there are no running around like the things presumably watched on TV. My hand is resting on a page cupping the story of a certain Mrs. Churchill.

I sigh. I'm getting restless, the feeling of helplessness is so close I can almost feel it crawling and creeping its way to my heart. I want to cry, wail, blubber and sob but I know I can't, I have to toughen up my weak strings that link what manifests strength, so I just sniff.

"Yumi,"

My heart is suddenly squeezed harshly by her whispery voice, crackling and breaking. The tone is monotone but somehow filled with concern and worry. I swallow the rock that blocked my throat and I answer her gently, "Yes, momma?"

She's quiescent and I hold my breath in the bogus attempt of powering up my hearing sense which expectedly failed. The state of being tranquil kept on stretching and my feet start to tap the floor to satiate the impatience that began to evince within me.

"Call taec," she says in a tone that resembled finality.

My mind is boggled, my eyes bulging out into the void of existence and my heart drums so loudly I feared she heard it. I can't think of an explanation why she wants me to call him. What am I supposed to tell him? "Hey brother, mom's probably dying so she wants to see you for the last time. Nice talking to you,"

I slam the book close, angry at the scenario my mind created before I even allow it and obscurely wroth with my mother too. "Why?" I ask her flatly, all gentleness disappearing.

I don't know what to do because the following sentence that sound from her is absolutely ostentatious, "I'm afraid that I won't-"

"Stop," I almost yell, nudging Mrs. Carcax's head. "Don't even finish," my eyebrows furrow as a frown nestles on my face. "You're going to be fine," and I believe that I'm not only trying to convince her but also myself. "God! You're just a little tired from all these antibiotics and fluids, they probably make you hallucinate or something,"

Again with the silence, my eyes move upwards, downwards, right and left, I don't know where she is exactly but I really want to hug her right now, tell her that she's not going to go away and that we'll meet Taecyeon in the end of this month.

"Please call him," she begs and with that she ignites my tears and they start pouring down, four after four, like a waterfall, except this one is full with despair and impotence.

"You're …," my forehead creases, my nose itch and I'm sweating, the rims around my eyes burn with heat and reddening and I feel like they're shrinking, detaching themselves away from the shelter of their sockets, "You're .. going to be fine,"

At last does our little conversation wake Mrs. Carcax and she rubs her eyes ferociously. Then, just when she comes around, she places her hands on my shoulders and orders me to stop crying which unlock a more greater dam I've built over my tears and I start wailing and blubbering, Japanese curse words trudge out of my mouth in respect to Mrs. Carcax's presence.

"I can't," I exclaim. "I can't stop," and almost brawl. Salvia forms in my mouth and mucus blocks the air from entering and I open my mouth to gain a mouthful of Oxygen and then sigh deeply.

"Mery," mother calls Mrs. Carcax. "I'm sorry for troubling you,"

"Don't worry about that, honey. You just deal with what you've got, I'll take care of Yumi,"

I sob inconsolably and sniff loudly, my throat feels like it's filled with jagged, sharp objects that keep scraping it and I find it hard to swallow. The pained expression I wore that was ripping my face away seems to be plastered on it but unexpectedly, a soft material is over my face and a motherly tone enfolds Mrs. Carcax's voice as she prompts, "Blow,"

My hand flies up to hold the tissue over my nose and replace her fingers that awkwardly pressed over my nose and I blow in it. Muttering my thanks during my striving work to not leave anything displayed, she laughs and I can't help but smile at her jocund, hopeful voice.

"Good God! You need to sleep," she says, the bags under my eyes carefully.

"I'm not sleepy," my voice is gruff and deep, hoarse at the end of each word.

"You have to sleep, so that your voice returns to normal and you can talk to you brother without causing him uneasiness. Deal?" her voice is chiefly commanding and I nod. Then I feel her hand over my back, pushing me downwards and I cower, she taps my back gently and I bend it in sync with her direction. My left ear is resting on her lap, her thighs are flaccid due to old age and they're warm, so I close my eyes and breathe raggedly.       

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