"SON WENDY!"

The booming voice startles the brunette and she immediately drops the blade. The male nurse rushes to her and casts her a disapproving look. He picks up the stained blade and a drop of crimson blood drips on his backhand. He glances back at Wendy, who is staring blankly at the ceiling. He grunts as his eyes dip to Wendy’s injured wrist.

“You’re asking for trouble, kid.”

Wendy doesn’t say anything. She refuses to show any reaction.

She just wants to sleep.

10 feet long and 9 feet wide.

The room is suffocating and Wendy hates the austere atmosphere.

White walls.

She has never seen anything whiter than these.

Glaring artificial white lights.

She thinks they are going to be the cause of her future blindness.

A steel bed bolted to the floor.

She would rather sleep on grass.

A CCTV at the top corner of the room.

She's visually assaulted by the existence of CCTV. She hates being watched. It’s an intrusion of her privacy.

No signs of a clock on the wall.

Without the clock, she knows she’s going to lose track of time.

There isn’t any door knob or handle on the inside. A door safety guard is attached to prevent the entrapment of fingers (whether by accident, or on purpose). And there’s a tiny, pathetic, square-shaped window on the door.

Whoever came up with idea of having an isolation room in the psychiatric ward was absolutely bonkers in the head.

Basically, Wendy thinks she’s in hell. Scratch that, this is worse than hell. And never has she ever wanted to be an occupant of hell this much.

“Son Seungwan, where did you get the blade from?”

Silence.

“Wendy, it would be good if you could cooperate.”

The brunette is adamant on keeping shut. Her eyes flit to her bandaged wrist and she wonders how much time has passed since she got here. Not sparing a glance at the nurse who has administered her wound, Wendy lays on her bed and turns to the other direction.

She wants to sleep.

And she is going to sleep.

It’s hard to sleep when there’s a CCTV watching you.

Wendy has been struggling to sleep. She has exhausted all means to lull herself to sleep. She remembers the faint footsteps of the nurse moving away, and the loud sound of thick steel door being shut and secured tightly by a lock.

To prevent herself from losing complete sanity, she begins to count.

Counting is safe. Counting is comfortable.

She counts up to 5048, and halts her counting when she hears the same footsteps entering the room. She’s sure it’s the same nurse.

Turning around, she asks, “Where’s my doctor?” That's the first time she notices the nurse.

Son Seungwan hasn’t expected this. She had been so preoccupied with scanning the room earlier on that she didn’t even look at the nurse that was tending to her injury.

The nurse has pale skin, almost translucent. Her luscious midnight black tresses flow over her shoulders. Her gleaming, calcite-white teeth and sorbet pink lips complement her cherubic smile.

She is beautiful. Stunning. Gorgeous.

Even the best sculptor in the world would not be able to fashion her ethereal beauty.

“Irene’s out of town, darling. She’ll be back tomorrow.”

Her mellifluous voice draws Wendy in. The brunette guesses that the owner of the sweet saccharine voice has a genteel personality as well. She risks a quick glance at the nurse's name tag.

“I want my doctor.”

“She’ll be coming for you tomorrow. In the meantime, I’m here for you.”

Wendy usually doesn’t think bad of anyone. But someone as gentle as her nurse makes her feel iffy about her current situation. “You’re not my doctor.” Honestly, Wendy isn’t sure why she’s bothering to be such a difficult person. Maybe it’s to kill time. To distract her. She desperately wants to escape the room. “I want to get out of this place.”

“Soon you will. We’ll just be supervising you for the time being.”

“You guys aren’t even helping us.” Wendy rolls her eyes. She feels her anger rising. “Irene had mentioned about negative punishment to me. Whatever you guys are doing right now doesn’t make any ing sense.”

The nurse stays silent momentarily as she digests Wendy’s offensive use of language. She finally draws out a sigh and gently pats Wendy on her head. A small smile graces her lips and she says, “Wendy, I’m going to take care of you so you don’t have to worry. You’ll be out of here before you know it.”

Wendy isn’t sure what came over her which causes her to nod in agreement. “Okay,” is all she could afford to answer her nurse.

A hard slap on her arm is all it takes for Wendy to bolt upright in bed, in shock. Her head swings to the assaulter and she frowns. “What was that for, Yeri?” she groans as she rubs her arm.

“I can’t sleep for ’s sake with you to someone called Kim Taeyeon in your sleep.”

“I wasn’t to anyone. I wasn't even ,” Wendy retorts. She hates slanders.

Yeri cackles. “I know, I know. I was just teasing you,” she admits with a hint of fascination. “But you were obviously dreaming about a chick named Kim Taeyeon. Is she your girlfriend or something?”

“She isn’t.”

“Secretive ,” Yeri snorts. "That’s okay, I’m not someone who would pry into someone else’s private life. But seriously, shut the up and let me sleep. I need to look good in front of Nayeon tomorrow morning. I don’t want to be looking like a zombie with dark circles sauntering into the lounge.” Yeri might be crude but her voice isn't laced with menace.

Wendy apologizes for she feels bad that she has disrupted Yeri’s sleep with her sleeptalking. The roommate only gives a shrug in response. As she rests her head on the pillow, Wendy thinks of Kim Taeyeon, the nurse that had helped her get through the days when she was placed in the isolation room.

It's been awhile since they last met.

The sight of a familiar blonde sitting on the lime green carpet with her knees drawn up and both hands balanced atop each according side catches Wendy's attention.

Wendy would have approached her if she were Ayumi. It isn’t hard to distinguish between Ayumi and Momo for the two have polar opposite personalities. The one currently sitting right at the corner of the sensory is Momo. So withdrawn and distant. Wendy doesn’t know what to expect if she were to take the initiative to talk to Momo first.

But she has two days left.

Two days. And what is the probability of meeting of Ayumi before she leaves this place? Probably less than seven percent.

Warily, she walks toward Momo and calls out to the blonde nervously. “Momo?” But Momo completely ignores her. The blonde turns away, bringing herself even closer to the pale purple wall.

It hurts Wendy that Momo doesn’t even acknowledge her existence. But she reminds herself once more that she shouldn’t be hurt, for Momo and Ayumi might be the same person, but their personalities are different. Since her attempt to communicate with Momo is futile, Wendy opts to settle on the beige leather couch. Upon noticing the glare Yuri is giving her, a queasy feeling sloshes inside her but she sits on the couch anyway, keeping a safe distance between herself and the other patient.

"I'm not going to stab you, bastard."

Wendy is briefly stunned by Yuri's words. "Huh?" Did Yuri just curse at her or she misheard? She sees the girl mouthing something, probably doing her obligatory routine of counting to five.

"You're sitting at the other end of the damn couch," Yuri snarls and slams her hand on the armrest. She bolts upright, an action so sudden it causes Wendy to jolt in surprise. "You," Yuri seethes as she forcefully grabs Wendy by the collar, "I'm going to kill you. I'm going to shove pills into your mouth, you psychopath."

The sentence triggers something in Wendy's memory. The toilet cubicle. Seulgi's conversation with her friend. Wendy may not exactly remember what she has heard, but she hasn't forgotten the impact the words left on her.

She remembers her promise to Irene. To sort things out with Seulgi. And she knows she isn't supposed to do what she's about to do.

She shouldn't do it, it's wrong.

Everything becomes a blurry mishmash. One moment Yuri has her hands locked around Wendy's neck, the next moment a few nurses have rushed in to control the bloody situation. Wendy witnesses Seunghoon stabbing a needle into her arm, and easing it off. Before giving way to unconsciousness, she pictures Irene in her blue blouse and black pencil skirt. And the colour of disappointment on the psychiatrist's face.

I'm sorry.

"Darling, how are you feeling?"

The lilting voice awakes Wendy fully and she rubs the blur from her eyes. "Taeyeon?"

Taeyeon flashes a smile, showing off her pristine, bleach white teeth. "Hello, my Wendy."

"Am I in the isolation room?" Wendy asks groggily, as she slowly feels the bed. Strange, she doesn't recall the hard bed in the isolation room to be this comfy.

"What?" Taeyeon chuckles. "No darling, you're definitely not in the isolation room."

"I'm not? But didn't I..." Wendy frowns, and scratches the back of her head. She glances at the off-white walls, and the first thing that catches her attention is a circular shaped clock.

She scans the entire room and finally makes out the place she is in. The infirmary. Relief pours over her. Pushing herself up, she sits upright and faces Taeyeon. "What happened?"