Trigger warning: Discussion of suicidal ideation

 

Sometimes, when Hwasa wasn’t sharing María’s dreams, she just wandered the halls at night. It was usually quiet, unless a new patient was coming in, or another patient was having a difficult time. 

 

She’d seen nurses falling asleep at their stations, one nurse comforting a crying girl every night for her first week there, and two nurses making out in the supplies closet. She’d seen so much she couldn’t even remember all of it.

 

But she’d never forget what she saw that night. Or heard, really.

 

“Sir,” the nurse at the reception desk said into the phone. “We need you to get here as soon as possible.”

 

It was odd for them to be making a phone call so late. They usually didn’t do that unless they needed authorization for an emergency procedure, which Hwasa had only seen happen once when a patient was having severe chest pain, or if a patient really wasn’t doing well.

 

“I understand,” the nurse said, but her face showed how annoyed she really was. “Yes, we’ll see you tomorrow, sir.” 

 

The nurse hung up and turned to the other nurse at her station. “We need to check on her. Her husband won’t be arriving until late tomorrow morning.” 

 

They walked down the hall to a private room. The door was open like every bedroom door, but the room was far fancier than the one María and Moonbyul shared. It was like a private suite at a hotel. 

 

Hwasa was so distracted by the room with its private bathroom––an actual bath tub in it––and the writing desk, and armchair, that she almost didn’t notice who occupied the room. When she looked up, she was staring her mother in the eyes. 

 

Her mother was terrified. She scrambled off her bed and toward the window, trying as hard as she could to get away from Hwasa. The nurses tried holding her up as she tumbled toward the floor. They were saying things, trying to comfort her, but Hwasa wasn’t paying attention to them.

 

“Oh,” Hwasa said. “That’s right––you can see me.” 

 

“Hwasa-ya…” Her mother trembled in fear. 

 

“Oma, I can’t hurt you.” She laughed. “I can’t touch anyone. I haven’t been able to comfort María once this entire time. I’ve just had to watch. I can only talk to her. Do you know how much it hurts to constantly be with someone you love, but never be able to touch them?” 

 

Her mother’s eyes were b with tears. 

 

“I failed you,” her mother said. She began to move toward Hwaaa, out of the nurses’ grasp. “I failed you and your sister. Oh, Hwasa-ya, how I’ve wanted to see your face one last time, how I’ve wanted to hug you one last time––” 

 

“Didn’t you just hear me, Oma? You can’t hug me. You can’t touch me.” 

 

Despite that, her mother tried and fell right through her to the floor. Hwasa briefly heard her mother’s thoughts, and she couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty when she did. All her mother was thinking about was her. It was just her name, Hwasa-ya, Hwasa-ya, Hwasa-ya, repeating over and over in her head. 

 

I’m so sorry.

 

I wish I could trade places with you.

 

Hwasa sighed and sat on the floor next to her mom. The nurses were at her side again, trying to get her up, but she kept crawling toward Hwasa. 

 

“Hwasa-ya, I’m so sorry. Please, please, you don’t have to forgive me. Just know I love you. Please, Hwasa-ya!” 

 

Hwasa turned away as tears began to fall down her face. She dropped her head into her hands and cried. She cried as loudly as she’d wanted to since the day she died. She’d held it together for María, but now she realized she needed to take the advice she gave her sister––she had to let it all out. 

 

And even with all their issues, with all their mother hadn’t done to protect them, she just wanted her mother to comfort her.

 

“Oh, my daughter,” her mother said. “My beautiful daughter…” 

 

The nurses finally had her up and were bringing her toward her bed. Hwasa knew soon they’d sedate her, so she stood, following her mother. 

 

She looked down at her mother, who stared up directly into her eyes, crying as Hwasa cried.

 

“I love you,” she whispered. 

 

“If you love me, help María. You can’t get me back, but you can help her. You don’t have to lose both of us. She doesn’t have to have her life taken away too.” Hwasa paused, unsure of how much she should tell her mother.

 

She’s your mother, she thought. She’s María’s mother. She needs to know.

 

“Oma, María wants to join me. You need to help her. You need to do everything you didn’t for the past three years. Even when she pushes you away, show her love. Don’t leave her, please.” 

 

Her mother was just nodding, nodding, reaching her hand up toward her daughter’s face. A face she could never touch again.

 

The nurses gave her a pill to swallow, which she did without a second thought. 

 

Hwasa watched her mother’s eyes close. For a moment, she thought about peering into her mother’s dreams, but she’d had enough heartache for one night.

 

She couldn’t stop herself from reaching down and trying to hug her mother, only to cry again when she couldn’t. 

 

You knew what would happen, she told herself. 

 

So even if she expected it, why did it still hurt so much?

 

***

 

María wasn’t sure why Hwasa was acting so weird that morning. She was reluctant to leave their room, and kept trying to distract María from going. 

 

“I know Mom is here,” María said. “I’m going to deal with it, so stop worrying.” 

 

She slid her feet into her slippers and began to shuffle toward the door. Moonbyul was already having breakfast, and María was trying to join her. 

 

“Okay, wait,” Hwasa said. “Dad is coming today. I overheard the nurses last night.” 

 

Hwasa had decided late last night to never tell María about the entirety of what she heard and said. 

 

María’s face went pale and she immediately felt sick. She crumpled back onto the bed, and everything in her was screaming at her to crawl back under the covers. If she hid out in here, he wouldn’t find her. He wouldn’t come to her. He hadn’t for the past three years, not even when she spiked a high fever and spent over a week in the infirmary. So he wouldn’t come now. 

 

But then she looked at Hwasa. She saw the concern in Hwasa’s eyes, that constant question that seemed to be etched into her forever youthful face: Will my sister be okay?

 

She wanted the answer to be yes. 

 

So María stood up and swallowed the bile rising in . 

 

“Well, then I have a job to do.”

 

Hwasa looked like she was about to stop María for a moment, but she just nodded her head. That conspiratorial smile they used to share so often appeared on her face, and María’s mirrored it. 

 

Hwasa quietly led her sister to their mother’s room, and they saw she was still alone. So they went down to the reception area, and María pretended to be engrossed in an outdated magazine as they waited for their father to arrive. 

 

“What’s the game plan?” 

 

How many times had María heard her sister over the years? From the times they secretly teamed up against Wheein, to helping each other get noticed by their crushes, or distracting their father so he wouldn’t go on a rampage against them… 

 

“We tail Dad to Mom’s room and once they’re alone, go in.” 

 

“You go in,” Hwasa said. “Mom can see me. I’d be distracting.” 

 

María felt her stomach drop at the idea of doing this without her sister. She swallowed hard and tried to hide the fear that overtook her face, but Hwasa knew her too well. 

 

“I’ll be waiting right outside the door. If anything starts to go wrong, say our code word and I’ll rush in.” 

 

Their code word. 

 

빨간색. Palgansek. Red.

 

They’d only ever used that word in relation to their parents. Code Red––please help me. 

 

And they’d helped each other every time.

 

“Okay,” María said. She took a deep breath. She was as ready as she’d ever be. 

 

***

 

It took forever for the nurses to leave their parents alone. María hid her face behind her hair from her father, but it didn’t even matter that much––he never paid attention to those around him. She should have remembered that. 

 

Once they were finally alone, María and Hwasa listened in on their conversation for a few minutes. 

 

“Pull it together,” their father said. “I can’t keep moving you.”

 

“She’s here,” their mother said. “I swear! I see our Hwasa-ya!” 

 

María and Hwasa looked at each other, grimacing. 

 

“You are getting more delusional,” their father said, more to himself than their mother. “Maybe I should approve the new treatment––”

 

“Why don’t you believe me?” Their mother shouted.

 

María and Hwasa locked eyes again, and Hwasa nodded. It was time. 

 

María stood in the doorway, taking in her father for the first time in three years. His hair was the same jet black it’d always been, but she knew he had to be dying it at this point. His face looked a bit more weathered and bloated. He hadn’t stopped drinking, apparently. 

 

Their mom looked up and stared at María, no words escaping her lips, and then her father turned and saw her. 

 

He looked like he’d seen a ghost. 

 

“Hello, father,” María said. 

 

“María,” he said after a beat too long. 

 

“Did you forget you put me here?” 

 

He furrowed his brow. “You did this to yourself! You asked to come here!” 

 

María stormed into the room, her face turning red in anger. 

 

“I was a teenager! I didn’t know what I wanted! You’ve left me here without ever looking back!” 

 

“It’s what you deserve, you brat.” He raised his hand, but suddenly her mother grabbed it at the last second. 

 

“No more!” She shouted. “You will never hurt our daughter again. You already hurt one, and I can never get her back. I can never forgive myself for sitting by and letting so much happen. I can never forgive myself for letting my dear María be locked in here for three years when…” 

 

Their mother started to cry, but she didn’t stop talking. 

 

“She’s innocent, and you know it!” She poked her finger into her husband’s chest. “You threw her in here for your own selfish reasons, and I sat by and let it happen. I don’t know which one of us is worse.” 

 

“You’re crazy,” he said to his wife, pushing her away. “You know what she did. Or you used to. You were in agreement with me that she should come here.”

 

“No!” Their mother said through her tears. “I was not! But I sat by and let you do it, and look where it got us!” 

 

She pulled María toward her and cupped her face. “My beautiful daughter is a wisp of her former self. She’s been alone, lonely, for three years.” She glared at her husband. “No more. I will not allow this to happen any longer.” She instinctively pulled María even closer. 

 

María watched her father laugh––cackle, almost. 

 

“What can you really do? Everyone knows you’re crazy. They’ll never listen to you, or to her.” He pointed at María. “A crazy woman and her daughter who she put in the hospital for three years.” He laughed again. “So believable!” 

 

María pulled herself out of her mother’s grasp and stepped toward her father until they were toe-to-toe. She looked directly up at him, a cool anger overtaking her. 

 

“Leave,” she said. “Leave us alone. If you’re not going to help, then go!” She pointed toward the door. “Leave and never return!” 

 

Her father was silent for a moment, then he began to laugh. His breath smelled like alcohol masked by mint. 

 

“You have no right to boss me around.” 

 

He tried to push María away, but she was faster than him. Instead of her tumbling to the ground, she tripped him, taking pleasure in watching him fall to the ground, groaning as his knees took the brunt of the fall. 

 

“You little––” He tried to stand, but yelped in pain. 

 

Now María towered over him. 

 

“How does it feel to be powerless, father?” She smirked. 

 

Before she could do much else a nurse poked her head in. 

 

“Is everything okay in here?” She looked over the three of them. 

 

María’s father forced himself to stand up and act like he was fine. He looked at his wife and daughter again before storming toward the nurse. Startled, she jumped away just in time to let him pass by. 

 

He stormed off without saying another word. 

 

“Are you both okay?” She asked. 

 

María looked over at her mother for a moment before they both nodded. 

 

“Yes, thank you,” her mother said. 

 

The nurse left, and María faced her mother. 

 

“Oma,” she said. 

 

“Oh, María-ya…” She couldn’t meet her daughter’s eyes. “I’ll be there for you from now on. If I ever get out of here, I’ll protect you. I’ll do everything I failed to do.” 

 

María shook her head. “No, Oma. If I leave here, I want to start fresh.” 

 

She sat next to her on the bed. 

 

“But I want you to know that I forgive you. I forgive you for abandoning me.” 

 

At the word abandoning, it looked like someone had punched the older woman in the gut. But she just nodded her head. 

 

“We’ll never be like we once were. I can never forget how you let everything happen, but I can and do forgive you.” 

 

To her own surprise, she hugged her mother. Her mother wrapped her arms around María, and María melted into her. She didn’t know why, but she was crying. Her mother ran one hand over her head, just like she had when María was a little girl and had scraped her knee, had a fever, had a bad day at school… 

 

She couldn’t help but bask in the comfort of her mother’s embrace.

 

From the doorway, Hwasa peered in at her mother and sister. She smiled, tears gathering in her eyes. She let them fall, disappearing before they could plop to the floor. 

 

It hadn’t been a code red after all. María held her own.

 

Hwasa watched a moment longer, then the pain was too much. 

 

She turned away, letting María be comforted in the way she could never comfort her, and in the way she would never be comforted again.  

 

María let her mother hold her, and she truly let it go. She let go of the anger she’d harborded in her heart for so long. She felt it disappear more and more with each tear she cried, with each of her hair. 

 

She let her mother hold her for what felt both like forever and like no time at all.