I remember clearly, that time I went skating with Irene. She wanted to learn how to ice-skat.

She was like an innocent child. She indeed was. No matter how many times she slipped on the cold hard ice, a joyful smile plastered on her delicate face.

I wanted to hold her hand sliding across the huge rink so much. She refused at first and insisted trying on her own. Eventually, her puppy eyes sold her out. I chuckled and gladly took her hand.

Maybe it was her illness, her limbs became flaccid easily. Not wanting her to fall, I gently pulled her into my arms. It’s the first time we were that close, physically. I swear there was a pink shade on her cheek. Maybe it’s just because of the freezing temperature in the rink.

I can still remember how she wrapped her arms around my waist. Not too tight, not too distant. And her cheek was just next to mine.

Then it’s when I knew I loved her. I did not want to let go. I wanted to stay in that moment forever. Yet I was not sure how she felt. So I let go eventually.

“Come.” I heard her as she broke away.

So we held hands and had fun on the ice. I guess she was also addicted to its feeling. The touch, the warmth. She happily slid through the children and couples, dragging me along literally.

My hearts skipped a beat when she turned around and flashes a genuine smile to me.

It was another time when she offered to cook for me.

Not that she said she would cook for me but she just waltzed in when I was preparing a meal at Doctor T’s house. She seldom took the initiative after all.

Irene just sneaked in and stood beside me at the kitchen. God knows how long I took to notice her.

“Irene ? Why’re you here? Wanna help?” I curved my lips into a smile after I spotted her tiny frame from the corner of my eyes.

“What’re you making?” She scooted closer and peeked.

“Just some spaghetti.” 

“How about this?” She found a pack of Korean rice cake.

“Oh yeah, you said you like cooking.” I threw her a playful wink. She quickly turned away without another word as she teared the package and started gathering her ingredients.

I could not help but stole glances of her while we were cooking our dishes. 

At one time our eyes met. It was me to look away immediately, not her. Not her. She just stared at me. She stared freaking holes on me.

“What if I have less than 1 year? Which means I will die any minute, right?” She quietly bombarded my brain with her words.

“But you are alright now. I mean, your body is fine…... The condition of your body, yeah.” Tables had turned and it’s my turn to stutter.

She giggled, “I got your point.”

“What if you have more than 1 year? Stay positive.” I recomposed myself as quickly as possible.

My internal struggle of should I let her know I love her or not, heaven or hell. Actually, not really though, just hell and hell alone.

“My bucket list is almost done.” She went back to her cooking.

“Hmmm…... That’s nice.”

“Thank you…... For doing this with me.” 

“I am enjoying this as much as you do. Thank you too.”

We then ate in silence. But I felt like there was not much silence between us gradually. Somehow I had an illusion that I had not heard those voices that frequently.

“Your cooking is really good. Rice cake is like one of my favorite Korean food, but I just can’t make it right.” So, I just had to speak up.

“It’s about the sauce.” She muttered without looking up.

“Teach me, will ya?” 

She nodded smiling.

Seeing her ravishing smile, I thought maybe I was getting my bucket list done too. 

On second though, no. It would never be done. No matter how long I would live.

-

8 months passed since they had first met until Irene’s health really began to deteriorate.

Based on past medical experience, she still had some time. Not long though.

I had sincerely prayed that Wendy could be Irene’s cure, as miracles tended to happen around this girl.

“How long do you think she can live?” Wendy sat across my office desk after she came back from the hospital one day.

“I’m a psychiatrist,” I sighed. “And of course I hope she could live as long as she wants.”

I actually had a number in my head. But I chose not to say.

“Just spill it. You’re a doctor and you must know something.” Wendy looked at me expressionlessly.

“Even if I did, you would not be pleased by any answer I gave.” 

“Forget about it then.” She bolted up from her seat, ready to leave.

“Wendy,” I called out to stop her from storming out. “You knew it’s coming.”

“So what? 'Cause apparently I can’t accept that!” She exploded and flail her arms around with frustration, accidentally throwing her fist to my book shelf. 

A few books fell off. Those were some heavy- psychology journals. And she cut herself.

“You shouldn’t let her know.” I stared at her wound and continued to confront her. I knew she was furious. But if I did not get her to face the reality then, she would completely lose her mind when the time came. It could be ugly.

“I’m doing my best. Do you think I want to……” She balled her fists and scoffed.

“I understand. I am just trying to say it’s better for her to go without knowing. Less pain for both of you.” I crossed my fingers.

“I know. I know…… ” She rested her forehead on her palm.

“So let me get you some bandages first. How can you take care of Irene if you don’t take care of yourself?” 

While I was dressing her wound, she cried. I hated to see her cry. She bit her lips, trying not to make a sound. Her tears kept streaming down, dripping on the floor.

“What should I do after she is….. gone?” Wendy muttered with her eyes downcast, not wanting me to see her cry.

“Live your life, and hers.” 

“It’s easier to say than do.” There, she smiled, so bitterly once again.

“That’s what I can only do. Take care of yourself, kiddo.” I patted her shoulder before I ushered her back to her room.

-

Although I knew she was leaving me, I was not prepared.

I could never be prepared.

Irene was bound to the hospital. She was weak, and had to carry a small machine helping her to breathe.

I stepped into her room when she was resting her eyes. I got scared for some good seconds. I felt like the blood from my whole body was drained.

Then I saw her squirm a little.

“You’re here.” She opened her eyes and smiled.

“I said I would be here.” I sat down on a chair next to her bed. She blinked for a few times to get used to the brightness. All I saw was her long eyelashes.

She scanned around and finally laid her eyes on my hands. 

“You’re hurt.” She frowned. 

“Yeah.” I hid my hand behind my back.

“Why?”

“I was careless?” I looked away.

“You’re always careful.”

“People make mistakes.”

“Let me see it.” She sounded stern.

She frowned harder when she saw the bandage that her eyebrows almost touched.

“Don’t hurt yourself again.” 

“Okay.” I nodded like a child being scolded by her mom for breaking her favorite vase.

Irene soon resumed her daily reading routine. She told me she wanted to read one day. So I lent her my little collection.

She was a fast reader. She read as if she was so eager to put everything into her stomach, her brain, her heart. As for me, I did not really read. I was always watching her reading, behind my book.

“How are you feeling today?” I carefully asked.

“Good. Not better, not worse.” She paused, fingers ready to flip another page.

“Someone told me that it was a good sign.” 

“Who?” She diverted her gaze from the book to me.

“Someone from the other dimension.”

“Oh.” She let that sink in for a while before burying her head back in the book.

“Don’t give up, Irene.” 

“I am not, I am not giving up.” 

We spent our time just like that.

And I still felt so close to her and her world. Weirdly.

In some other times, I would go to other places and share anything interesting with her after that. 

Such as talking with her about Mesopotamia after a museum trip. How bad the latest burger they had at the fast food truck we used to go together. How they got less trees on those streets we used to hang out.

She always listened with a soft smile on her face. I would never forget that smile.

I returned to the asylum merely to sleep. The doc did not say anything. He saw me as a normal kid anyway. And he trusts me.

Yet I did not really get much sleep.

The voices. They did help me. 

I would talk to them all night too. For I wanted to know how the life over there would be like.