When I was a little girl, I remembered holding my mother's hand while we walked down a wheat field. A path had been carved out by the countless feet that had treaded the ground. Her hand was soft, and I liked the sound of our long skirts rustling next to each other.

We walked all the way to the open meadow where tons of wildflowers grew. It was our favorite spot to go together. A multitude of colors were vividly strewn across the meadow and only the sound of lonely frogs and the hum of bugs could be heard. We would come to this meadow and pick the flowers until our arms were overflowing with them.

It's weird, how I can't remember how my mother looked. I can't remember her face, or her voice. I can only remember her soft hands brushing back the loose strands of my braid, as she stuck a daisy into the locks.

I remember my mothers soft hands shoving me hard into our wardrobe. Her hands had been sweaty and I didn't understand why they were shaking. I didn't know what was going on outside of our wardrobe. Precisely two gunshots rang out and that signaled the last time I would see her.

I was walking down that same path right now, my skirt brushing up against someone next to me. I felt a hand in mine, and I knew it was who I was yearning for. My mother had come to get me - to take me to the meadow.

"Yuri?"

A voice rang out around me, and I flinched as the hand in mine loosened.

"Please come back to me. Not yet, Yuri. You can't leave me yet."

My heartstrings tugged at the deep voice that cried for me. I was almost there - the meadow was two steps ahead. I desperately tried to hold onto my mother's hand, but she gently pried mine off me. I couldn't see her face. Why can't I see it?

"It isn't time yet, love." A gentle voice entered my ears, and instantly I felt safe. "I missed you Yuri. You've grown to become so beautiful."

Mom.

"Go back Yuri. When it's time, I will be here." I could hear her smiling through her words. "There is still love left for you back on the other side." 

---

White. It was the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes slowly, combating the harsh bright light. 

I winced when I felt a sore pain in my chest, my dry and chapped lips. Breathing was uncomfortable and I realized it was because I had a ventilator attached to my nose.

My eyes immediately trailed to a body slumped over my bed, with his hand intertwined tightly into my pale one. He was snoring lightly in his sleep, his eyelids occasionally twitching with stress.

Kim Taehyung, this stupid boy, had refused to let go of my hand despite everything I had done to him. He held on so tightly, I had no choice but to hold on.

I tried lifting my other hand, but it immediately tugged against the rail of the bed. A metal shackle dug into my wrist as I tried breaking it free.

My mind went blank as I stared at my shackled wrist. Mindlessly, I tugged at it, repeatedly tugging it forward. Yet my head began to pound with one thought. I had betrayed my country, only to be imprisoned into my enemy country. I had done it - I had gone against everything that I was made of. I tried protecting my country, but I knew that I might have put it in more danger.

I began to suffocate. The ventilator wasn't helping me breathe through the guilt that washed through me.

Taehyung jerked awake, his eyes widening at the sight of me thrashing against the bed, sobs wracking my body.

"Yuri!" He sprang up, his hands pressing down my arms, trying to keep me still. "Stop moving! You're hurting yourself!"

I didn't listen to him. All I could do was scream and hope to die right here. 

Taehyung