PART II.III: The Caterpillar
The caterpillar continues to shed its skin.

With three suitcases and a bag, Himae’s life is packed and ready to be shipped. She sits down with her parents in front of the psychologist from the inpatient program. They’re busy talking about something and Himae doesn’t listen nor does she care. She’s going to be stuck in here for a while, so she can listen later.

There’s a lot of points on the ceiling.

It’s endless; there are a lot of points. How do the points come about?

When the psychologist puts a reassuring hand on her shoulder, smiling, she’s pulled out of her thoughts.

It’'ll only be a short while. Don’t worry.

She nods and bites her tongue to stop the tears. She looks back to her parents leaving her and she saw the reaction she expected – sadness, regret and grief. In the pool of emotions though, she saw relief, and that hurt.

In a week, Himae settles down and grows use to the cycle there. Life needs to be regulated for them to control themselves and everyone’s schedule is posted on a bulletin board beside the head office, which is also beside their rooms. There’s a daily group interaction with five other girls who also have eating disorders or should she say, are acquainted with Ana and Mia. It’s too sensitive to mention Anorexia Nervosa or Bulmina Nervosa (except for the psychologist and nurses) so eating disorders here are referred to as Ana and Mia. Ana for Anorexia Nervosa and Mia for Bulimia Nervosa.  So when she first meets everyone, they all ask: “Ana or Mia?” Himae would stare in confusion but eventually her answer is now: “Ana.” She doesn’t think she can ever give up this bad habit of calling something as detrimental as Anorexia Nervosa, something as affectionate as Ana. It’s like Ana’s a real person, a person she met and has befriended. Ana was the only thing left though; the only one with her when her grandma died, when she was so screaming for help and no one cared but Ana. Ana cared, Ana offered her suggestions. Now, Himae’s pretty sure that Ana wants her to die.

When Himae’s not in her foggy haze, food is served on a plate and stuffed in front of her face every two hours – breakfast, snack, lunch, snack, dinner and snack again. They serve food like poutine, cereal, steak and so many more calorie-filled food. At first, she was reluctant to eat. She could barely eat bread, let alone a piece of steak.

I’d rather die than eat that.

Himae would occasionally steal some eye contact with the other eyes and they’re either crying or obediently eating. If one girl (there are many) refuses to eat, then a tube would be stuck through the nose and into the stomach. Most of the times, the girl is already hysterically sobbing, snubbing everyone and then the nurse would have to give her a shot to calm her down; if worse comes to worse (violence) then tasers would be used. Himae would turn her head away because she would never want to face that fate, never. Despite trying to block out their cries, she could still hear sobs and frantic shrieks to stay away. Are they really helping them?  

The Bulimics have it slightly easier, they aren’t watched but there was one time when someone caught one of them stuffing their socks with food. It’s a means of survival so no one could mock her for that. Purging out all of the food she’s eaten, spilling her guts out to encourage more of this misshapen action. Himae shivers at the thought and closes her eyes and drowns out their weeping.

Make it stop, make it stop, she pleads.

Eventually, the clothing size will go up, the body will explode and the numbers on the scale will increase. It feels like the worst form of hell, worse than death itself. Sooner or later, some of these girls will choose death over this because they’d rather die skinny than live fat. Himae still has yet to decide what’s better: living a life where she’ll never meet her expectations or sleeping forever to rid herself of her self-mutilation.

It’s tragic, right? The choices, I mean.

She hates it here, she hates it, hates it.

One night, Himae opens her eyes to the ceiling and it looks different. She thinks it’s a dream initially but forgets that it’s not her old room with the pastel pink walls. The walls are white, pure white and she remembers that she’s at the clinic. Everyone says that it’s suppose to help her but it makes her feel like she’s crazy, trapped in white rooms with nurses tailing you. She hears thumping noises which is the sole reason why she woke up. Her hand reaches out for her phone to check the time but she forgets she’s here. In this inpatient program. there are no phones, no magazines, no connection to society so her fingertips find the hard, cold surface of her night table. She lays back down in defeat.

It’s like the clinic decided to create its own ship and sail with the waves, letting it take them wherever it wanted. They could be near savagery, near civility or at the edge of the world, almost falling and she wouldn’t know. Everything is lost and all you can hear is the same waves lulling you to sleep. She wants to go back to land, to society, to civilians, she misses everyone so badly.

Himae’s eyes glazes towards the alarm clock and it tells her it’s 2 AM. In the darkness, she sees the outline of her roommate, Byul, exercising – doing jumping jacks, sit ups, push ups. She’s coated in sheen of sweat. It’s not allowed to exercise here, definitely not and could result in the transferal to another clinic. Himae understands Byul though; she understands why so she lets her weariness take over. Himae tries to drown out the sound and falls back asleep.

At 6 AM, she wakes up because she can hear the nurse waking up everyone up and knew that it was going to be her turn. She sits up and sees that her roommate’s still exercising. Himae’s feet touch the carpet and Byul freezes in trepidation. Her name’s really pretty; it means ‘star.’ A pretty name that shouldn’t have eating disorder associated with it but it did.

The world’s ugly, isn’t it?

Yeah it is.

“Don’t tell them that I’m exercising,” Byul’s not exercising but kneeling beside her bed, her fingers around the edge, whispering this to her. Himae knows the feeling of being scared and helpless so she nods, unsure if it's the right decision. Byul smiles and throws her arms around Himae, hugging her tight. She feels Byul's bones shaking and she hugs back, burying her face into Byul’s locks. She’s shaking from exhaustion and Himae wants so badly to stop the shaking so she holds her tighter. Himae doesn't tell Byul that it’s going to be okay because she has to be admonition with words; she doesn't know if it is so she can only support her like this.

When the nurse, Jangmi, comes knocking on their door and sees them, she gives Byul a questioning glance. Himae mouths back: “nightmare.” Jangmi understands and tells them it’s almost time for the first schedule.

Byul starts to stand up and Himae hears the uncomfortable sounds of bones cracking.

It’s like you can break her arm off or something.

“Have you been exercising for long?” Himae yawns to feign fatigue and lethargy of the mind. Terror wreaks Byul’s eyes and Himae almost feels bad for asking. “Relax, I’m just curious.”

“For twenty minutes.” Byul lies and Himae nods.

For a second, Himae believes Byul because she’s what everyone wants her to be. Byul’s in level three, she’s going to graduate soon. They have a level system here. Himae’s in level one, the level where she’s under constant supervision and needs a level three to  her everywhere; in other words, she’s unstable. A level two has a bit more freedom as they don’t need an but they can’t be in a room alone. A level three is someone who’s close to graduating and doesn’t need to be supervised, they’ve almost achieve the level of normality. It’s a simple system of one, two, three.

Since Byul’s close to leaving, Himae doesn’t want to sabotage her, she doesn’t want to lose hope nor take away the hope all the doctors, nurses and the other girls have for her. But if she leaves like this, she’ll shatter the hope because she’s bound to relapse.  

Hope in this ugly place with messed up people. Funny.

Nothing’s hopeful here, Byul can’t be the perfect person; she can’t be the role model. Nothing’s perfect, because in this world, perfection is a flaw itself.

Getting ready for the first thing on the schedule is hard because it’s the daily group meetings. Looking at other girls who are just as skinny  – if not skinnier than herself, even prettier than her without make-up on. Himae can’t even look at them in the eye because she feels so ashamed. Stripped of their demeanour, they still have something but all she has is a shell – a rotting one.

Group meetings are when Himae sits in a group circle with the five other girls and Renee, the group advisor with acumen, is the glue that sticks everyone together. The five other girls are so different from her. When they sit in a room and tell their life stories, it’s like six different perspectives of the world but one thing keeps them together and unfortunately, it’s their eating disorders. Throwing on a solid color shirt, a cardigan and some capris, Himae walks to the door where Byul is waiting for her. Since Byul’s her roommate and a level three, she’s Himae’s until she graduates.  

If she graduates.

She probably will graduate though, everyone says she’ll graduate.

When Byul’s sneakers is squeaking against the clean rubber floor and Himae’s flats are gliding off the surface, Himae thinks of the familiar five faces at the group meeting.

There’s the ever so loquacious Dina with her signature baseball cap to hide her bald spots; Jaerim who prefers not to talk but she when does, she’s full of charming assonance and riddles; irated Han met Ana and Mia from a result of drug addictions and too many shallow boyfriends; Sarang has too many tears and pent up emotions from years of expectations, and Byul, Himae’s awkward and pensive roommate, is supposedly the practical one and says the things Renee wants to hear. Renee facilitates the ‘discussions’ so Han doesn’t strangle Dina or Sarang doesn’t throw up from crying. They’re an emotional bunch of teenage girls with messed up problems – it’s an established fact, not even Renee can deny that. So every other day, Himae sits, sometimes crossed arms, sometimes with her hands on her lap, trying to forget that she’s a part of this bunch but when Renee says her name, it reminds her that she’s just as messed up as them. She’s included in the ‘us.’  Himae wishes she weren’t though; but she doesn’t even believe that she’s normal.

Byul pushes on the door handle and takes her seat beside Himae. Himae looks at the clock and there’s five minutes begins it’s supposed to begin – which in between, Han will come rushing in with no apology and Renee will slightly shake her head. Dina’s talking to Sarang while Jaerim fiddles with the hem of her shirt in her hand. Himae tries talking to Byul about Jangmi’s absurd hair today. It looks like she slept on her paperwork or something. Han comes running in when Byul is raving about how Dina was actually talking in her sleep, which isn’t a surprise considering how much she talks when she’s awake.

Han squeezes in between Jaerim and Sarang and Renee begins the discussion, asking us about their night. Sarang mutters a low, "It’s good..." before Han remarks that it was splendid hence her tardiness. Dina talks for the duration of the time while Byul manages to slip a comment or two in.

Renee looks at Jaerim and she speaks faintly but clearly. “What dreams may come, both dark and deep / Of flying wings and soaring leap / As I surrender unto sleep, / As I surrender unto sleep.” Renee smiles because Jaerim’s poem actually answered the question this time (or Renee tries to make sense of it).

Thank goodness it’s a poem and not a riddle, I can never solve those.

Byul leans over to Himae and whispers, “I assume she slept well.”

Himae smiles, “Probably. At least it’s not one of her riddles.”

“I know right.” Byul laughs and this catches Renee’s attention. Himae freezes and her mind struggles to function. Everything you do means something. You don’t fidget; it means you’re scared to talk. You start fidgeting and that means you’re anxious to say something but don’t know how to start. So Himae doesn’t know how to act under her eyes and she glances at Byul who just smiles at her. It’s too late for a reaction because Renee asks her how her night went. Byul tenses up at the mention and Renee doesn’t miss that either.

Himae can hear Byul catching her breath and she knows what to do. “I didn’t sleep much,” Himae replies.

“You didn’t have a good night?” Renee inquires and Himae resists the urge to shrug. She refused to answer Renee properly the first week she arrived and it was a big mistake – Renee ended up scheduling more psychologist appointments with her, worrying that she had developed more behavioral problems as well as an ED.

“I’m still not used to the bed and the sheets I guess.” Renee accepts that and carries on with the discussion. Han cusses about something and Dina reprimands her for it. Han flips her off and Dina is red with anger. Sarang tries to stop them from arguing until Renee intervenes and tells them to knock it off (not her literal words) and Himae sits there and watches them. It’s interesting in a way, how cacophonic it can get. 

The worlds are colliding.

It’s interesting how people can’t accept views that are different from their own. As if their view is omnipotent or absolute but then again, that’s how wars start. And that’s another way people die.

People can die from so many reasons though. To die a martyr is something honorable but Himae wonders if believing that you’re worthless, horrible with every pump of your heart is a belief worth dying for.

For some reason, the bed in Green Meadows isn’t as cold as the one at home. Maybe it’s because it’s smaller and Byul also shares the room hence the body heat is retained longer as opposed to her old, bigger room where no one would visit except her. Staring at the ceiling, she sees the ceiling points vaguely through the gaps between her fingers.

A month. She’s been here for approximately 30 days, 730 hours, 43,829 minutes.

That’s a long time.

It is. 730 hours without her at home, at school. She wonders if anyone misses her or even notices her absence or worst, found a replacement for her. Is Jisun doing well? Eating well and exercising adequately? Himae remembers that her volleyball match is coming up soon and wants her to win because Jisun looks the happiest when she’s winning. What about Mari? Does she live in that room she converted into her personal library? Hopefully she remembers to eat dinner. Mari’s exam marks from her school overseas must have arrived and undoubtedly, she would ace everything.

Himae hears scrapping at the door and there’s Byul who probably just knocked too lightly. Byul motions outside which means that it’s time for her next session. Himae suddenly remembers that it’s family therapy today. She can see her parents but she wished she didn’t because it always results in tears or regret.

Surprisingly after 730 hours here, Himae’s been hearing a lot less of the voices in her mind but the thought of no mirrors kills her. Of course, the lack of mirrors is to protect them but it’s driving her crazy. Sometimes she uses the stupidest stuff like using the reflection of the spoon, desperately searching for herself in the glass reflections or even on the tin foil wrap but she can’t see herself. But the thing she doesn't regret is that she learned a lot more than she should about her ED from the whispers during their 'free period.'

Brush your teeth so everyone tastes gross. You don’t want to eat afterwards.  

She sees a water dispenser nearby and takes the paper cup to fill it with water. She feels the water rushing through her body and inwardly shivers as it slithers inside of her. 

Often drink ice cold water because your body has to regulate the temperature of your body, burning calories on the way.

Himae wraps the cardigan around herself.

When you’re cold, you burn more calories.

Calories.

Drinking hot beverages like hot chocolate stays in your intestines longer and tricks your body into thinking you’re full. Spicy food also raises metabolism so eat a lot of those. Heck, even start chewing on red peppers.

Himae wonders if she could live off coffee for a while but then they probably don’t offer coffee here except for the nurses. Coffee is considered a drug stimulant and drugs are not allowed here because of its close association to the problems Green Meadows is trying to solve itself.

It’s a quiet walk with Byul but Byul doesn’t mind. She drops Himae off outside Ms. Choi’s office and Himae waits until Han’s done kicking the chairs and slamming her fist on the desk. It’s family therapy but Himae thinks it’s more like anger management class for her.

Himae thinks back to last week’s family therapy and agrees that it was more comfortable as there were no tears but that’s in the context of her family therapies. Generally, her family therapies are better off than the other girls so she should be thankful.

Han’s parents don’t even show up because they’re too drunk to even register the date. So Han sits there, cussing out her parents, cussing out the world. When Han’s done yelling, she starts crying. She blames the word for being unfair to her, for the physical and mental abuse, for giving her a life she hates. She wished she had at least one talent so she knew where she could take it but she has nothing. Himae remembers sitting outside the door waiting for her turn when Han storms out with her red eyes one day and she pieces two and two together to figure out that Han’s life is crap.

In contrast to Han’s parents, Sarang’s divorced parents are always at each other’s throats; blaming each other for Sarang’s screw-up in life. Once the docile quiet bookworm now she’s the maudlin, ED failure. Her dad should have looked after her properly but he has his new wife and the unborn baby – his new replacement family. Her mother should have worked less when Sarang came over so she doesn’t sit in her mother’s guestroom with her thoughts. Shouting, accusing and avoiding – those are the words that sum up Sarang’s sessions. Hence Sarang’s grades are dropping faster than the stock market or Sarang crying much more than she should be smiling.

Her name’s rather ironic. Sarang. Love but it’s more like lack of love.

The voice giggles. She should change her name.

Shut up, shut up, shut up, Himae wills, biting the inside of .

Byul’s father is always here on time but unfortunately her mother sometimes can’t make it because of her busy shifts at the hospital. Before Byul came to Green Meadows, her mom didn’t work as many shifts but living in Green Meadows is expensive and her family needs all the money they can get. Byul broke under the unspoken responsibility she put on herself. Byul is the example parents would use to get their kids to be better, to be like her. When Byul’s grades couldn’t hold up because of her job, she quit her job and she stopped eating. Her grades shot back up and her responsibilities increased – her responsibility to be perfect especially. She spends most of her sessions comforting her father more than he is because he’s so ashamed of himself because of his failure as a father. Himae knows Byul wants recovery more than anyone here. Byul’s like this – giving, selfless and overly considerate.

The thing is: Byul isn’t recovering for her but for her parents and that’s the wrong direction.

Jaerim’s family is an opulent one, similar to Himae’s family but the difference is that Jaerim’s adopted into the family. Her adopted parents still love her nevertheless. It’s just Jaerim still dawns on her biological parents for abandoning her in an old warehouse. She can’t live up to her adopted family’s name. She loves her adopted parents but can’t overcome her ED for them hence she convinced herself that she deserves to be deserted. She’s too selfish, too self-centered. She questions why the parents left her. Was she not good enough or did she not deserve their love? Jaerim stopped talking because she couldn’t find answers and started to escape them through poetry and riddles.

Dina’s sessions are the best because her family understands. She is also gifted with her little brother’s home-made get-well-soon cards. Dina ends up shedding tears and promising that she’ll be better. Dina spent her high school years with ruthless comments about her weight. She wasn’t stick skinny but it doesn’t mean she’s not beautiful – something she has yet to realize. Her first crush humiliated her because of a dare and gave her false hope. Dina has yet to let go of their words and really see herself. Her family doesn’t pressure her to get better and just gives endless support. Out of all of them, Himae believes that Dina has the highest chance of graduating.

Himae thinks back to her own family therapy meetings and thinks she shouldn't have an eating disorder because her life isn't half-bad. Sure there is pressure and there are expectations, but it didn't drive her to the point of insanity.  

 Himae checks the clock stationed outside and there’s three more minutes. 180 seconds.

After 86 seconds, Himae sees her parents walking towards her. Out of all the meetings (6 including this one), this is the third time they’ve been on time and the fourth that both of them are here and the fifth where they haven’t cancelled. She’s happy that they’re here because talking to Ms. Choi about her thoughts on their absence is awkward enough because it doesn't affect her. She’s been living with their absence for the better part of her life so why should she be hurting then? Shouldn't she be hurting long ago then?

Himae listens to stories she’s never heard of: stories of how her father should have seen the signs or how her mother should have said something because any mother could have seen their baby dying. There are so many regrets in their story and this weigh almost crushes Himae because if they should have seen the signs then she should have stopped herself. What fault they saw in their parenting is the fault in her. It’s her fault.

It’s your fault.

She closes her eyes and tries to stop their stories.

You should be better.

She should be a thousand times better to make up for this.

Starve.

She will to make up for all of this. She stares at her hands and bites her bottom lip. She shouldn't have these thoughts nor should she listen to them. They’re wrong, wrong, wrong.

She feels her fingers laced with other fingers and it’s her parents’. She hasn't held their hands since third grade when they were crossing the streets and for some reason, she misses this gesture. They talk about improvements; what they’re going to do when it’s time for Himae to visit home just like the rest of the girls, her recovery path. They keep it realistic. Her parents will try to be at home more often but they will haul their work with them. Paperwork, phone calls, laptops all sprawl in their workroom. They will try to eat dinner and not shove everything down their throats to save 10 seconds’ worth of time.

Himae too promises to be as honest as she could be. What more could she offer? She’s trying to be realistic.

They were never there for you during your darkest times, I was though.

She freezes at the voice because unconsciously, she has agreed with it to some degree. Her parents weren't home to check up on her. Her parents didn't care. She curls her fingers and stabs herself with her nails. She’s a monster with uncontrollable thoughts.

When her session is done, her parents kiss her on both cheeks. Be well. We love you. They whisper and hug her (or it’s a bone test to see how thin she is or so Dina says with admonition) until they have to leave. They remind her to call and she nods, it’s a promise.

She sees Byul down the hall and walks towards her so they could go back to their room together.

“How was it?” Byul asks.

She shrugs at a loss for words. 

“I don’t know,” Himae replies. She hates herself. Her parents are making an effort, they’re trying to be here for her but all she can think of is starving herself more and more. She needs to be buried alive.

Himae’s been gone for a month. In the first week, NOA was in an derailing uproar. The hierarchy’s thrown off because the most influential figure is gone. There are debauched rumours that Himae is pregnant – this is a problem itself because if she is, then who’s the father? –  gone to rehab, committed a crime so her parents are hiding her in a boarding school. Their imaginations are wild and Juhnyung thinks they could be writers.  

In the second week, it’s restored again as Jisun steps up as the head of the princess gang. Junhyung doesn't hate nor like Jisun but he misses seeing Himae in the center of the crowd – he doesn't know why. Maybe it’s because Himae’s happier than Jisun or maybe he’s just prejudice.

He closes his eyes, back to his last effigy of Himae: her last day here.  

“This is weird Junhyung,” Himae laughs, “But what would you do if I left?”

It’s free time in English or a ‘work period for peers to check over other peers’ work.'' In high school though, no one does their work but still, they have to at least fake that they’re using their brains for more than just texting. Hence Junhyung is holding Himae’s essay in his hand and she’s scribbling on his.  

“Left? Define your definition of ‘left.’” He smirks, amuse by this game. Himae’s guileless and comes up with these random ‘what if’ scenarios. He finds it intriguing to some degree and follows along with her arbitrary talks because he can’t experience it anywhere else.

“Like, go away for a long, long time,” she smiles sadly. At that moment, she thought of leaving forever but he doesn't know that.

Junhyung went for honesty. “Then I’ll be sad.”

“Really?”

He nods, “You’re one of my friends, so of course I’ll be sad.”

She smiles for a split second but is then replaced by that somber smile seen earlier. “That makes me not want to leave.”

He looks up from Himae’s essay and stares, “Where are you going?”

She’s serious, he knows it. So it’s not a matter of: “Are you joking?” but “Where? When? How long?”

“It’s complicated but I’m transferring schools for a while. I don’t know when – if I’ll come back. It’s supposed to be a new change or whatever. Continue to write though, okay? Whether it be poems, lyrics or even song composition.”

The heavy words are still sinking into the cracks of his brain: Himae’s leaving. It’s uncertain whether she’ll come back. The weight crashes the veins in his brain and he's having a hard time focusing. Despite being friends, he wants her to stay but he knows he can’t hold her back because he’s just her friend – nothing more, nothing less. How could he possibly say: “don’t go,” when he should be saying: “good luck, have fun.”

“What school are you going to?” He knows the chances of her telling him are slim but it’s worth a try.

She tenses up, “For now, it’s a secret.”

“Have fun wherever you’re going, good luck if it helps and I –” He hesitates.

Himae waits and Junhyung contemplates – ultimately, he doesn't tell her. “Nothing, it’s nothing.”

“You better debut, okay?” Himae says.

“I’ll try my best.”

“You have to win the Rookie awards, Daesang, Song of the Year, Artist of the Year and all the other awards.”

He rolls his eyes, “You’re crazy Himae.”

Himae laughs and thinks: “Yes, I am.”

When practice is over, he decides to hop on the bus heading to his mom’s academy. Himae’s leaving and he wants to say goodbye to her properly – not on the school ground, restricted by NOA’s ridicule popularity ladder but in a place where they’re on the same platform.

When he sees her, she’s already done practice and she’s hugging people and bidding goodbye. He stuffs his hand in his coat pocket, his weight shifting from his left feet to his right. 

Her eyes brighten when they land on Junhyung and his feral movements. “Junhyung?”

“Mae.”

“Didn't we already say our goodbye at school?”

“I’m here to drop a 'Hi' to my mom,” he lies, looking at the embroidery on the curtain lace.

“Your mom’s not here Junhyung, she’s at some meeting for the new costumes,” she raises her eyebrow, “I thought you would have known.”

He slaps himself on the forehead, “Oh, I forgot,” and he peeks through the crevice of his fingers to see Himae frowning at him.

“I distinctly remember your mom talking to you on the phone about it two hours ago,” Himae joshers.

“You could have saved me the dignity,” he sighed and she laughed.

“You could just say you’re going to miss me.”

“I –”

“Young mistress, the car is ready,” Mr. Kim informs, and Junhyung rolls his eyes. What opportune timing.

“Five more minutes, Mr. Kim,” she smiles and the butler nods.

“I understand, Young –”

“Himae,” she corrects.

“I understand, Himae.” He says it with a shaky voice, distress with such informality.

The butler leaves and they’re left alone again. “Do you want a ride home? Mr. Kim can drive you.”

“It’s okay, I’ll take the bus home.”

“Let’s go then?” She starts walking and he follows.

“Where to?”

“The bus stop,” she reaches inside her bag and pulls a knitted hat and mittens out.

“You’re prepared for the cold,” he remarks as she pats the hat that sits on her head.

She smiles at the comment.

“So, not only are you transferring schools but you’re quitting ballet as well?” He won’t have an excuse to see her anymore, the thought sends a jab to his heart. 

She nods, “I really like ballet but it’s impossible to continue it while I’m at my new school.” She suddenly shrugs, “It’s a stupid thing but when I’m dancing, I feel like I’m still with my grandma.”

“It’s not stupid,” he kicks at one of the rocks. It grows silent and Junhyung knows Himae isn't going to speak up. “So what are you thinking of doing now?”

He remembers his parents and his friends asking him the same question: “You’re not a singer anymore, what are you going to do now?” The question that they asked him that day and his incompetence to answer them was agonizing but they really made him think straight,; they made him think of his future. He wants Himae to look forward to her future because it’s bright with its endless paths.

“I don’t know,” she answers simply. 

“What about your parents’ company?”

“Business?” She shakes her head, chuckling as if it was a funny joke. “Never.”

They continue to talk about their future – his future and hers. His consisted of debuting, singing, dancing, performing. Hers consisted of schooling, studying and the possibilities that aren't foreseen. It’s crazy how different they are.

The bus is late; seven minutes late and the butler comes at the five minute mark.

“He’s a diligent worker,” Junhyung says, gesturing towards Mr. Kim.

She laughs, “Yeah, he is.” Himae tells him another five minutes, he nods and goes back to the car.

The bus is in sight ten minutes later and with a quick calculation, he has thirty seconds left before it arrives.

“I guess this is good-bye,” he breathes out and she agrees with a small, "hmm."

“Yeah, good-bye.” Himae repeats A good-bye, not a bye because the possibility of her coming back is unknown; she doesn't know if it’s a when she’s coming back or if she’s coming back.

She read a bit about the clinic online and saw that her new clinic is far away. Too far away from any private high school it so she can’t just throw out a random name for people to believe. To be honest, she’s tired of lying and decides to let the minds of the curious people do the work and make up a story for her.

“How about a hug?”

She accepts, opening her arms with a convivial smile.

It’s a sweet kind of hug when her arms are around his neck and his around her body. Not the suffocating kind but it’s enough for them to know that their friendship is something they both hold ever-so-dear to their hearts. Himae holds on a little tighter because she doesn't know if she’ll ever get to hold him this close again.

She likes feeling safe in his arms, burying her face into his chest.

“I’m going to miss you so much,” she whispers close to his ears and gives him a small peck on his cheek. He looks surprised for a second but immediately calms down, his composed facade coming back. She doesn't have to explain the peck because he understands it completely – it’s an act of friendship. She gives polite kisses on the cheeks all the time to her friends but Junhyung still felt his heart beat too fast and his stomach somersaulting.

“I’m going to miss you too,” he says, smiling as well.

He boards the bus and could only wish her good luck in whatever she’s doing. She waves at him and he smirks at her until they both can’t see each other anymore.

“Good bye Junhyung,” she whispers and heads towards the car where her butler is waiting. She stops and looks up, feeling the tears in her eyes. It wasn't supposed to be like this. She wasn't supposed to be crying.  

Himae places a hand over her chest, feeling the low thumps of her heart. It's sending her a paining message, it's telling her that it's breaking, that the heartache of separation is worst than it imagined. At least, with this, she knows that she's alive. Her heart is pumping sadness and her veins is carrying the poignancy-filled blood all over her body causing it to tremble.

She's alive and that is enough to motivate her. She wipes her tears resolutely and gets in the car. She is going to miss him but it’s not like she won’t see him again. He’ll be on TV soon and on the internet.  

When he comes home, his younger brother stares at his cheek and arches a brow in question.

“Did you have fun times with a girl?” He asks and Junhyung narrows his eyes in animosity. 

“No, I was out with the guys.”

“I hope that lipstick stain isn't from them,” his younger brother gestures to his cheek and Junhyung’s palm clams over it and rushes pass his brother, to the washroom. When he locks the door, he can still hear the brat laughing and Junhyung scowls.

“I wonder how she’s doing,” Junhyung muses, tapping the pen against his notebook. The last time he saw her, she still had skin hanging off her bones and was icy cold to the touch. He pushes the thought of her being unwell out of his head because it’s Geum Himae after all; her parents wouldn't allow for anything appalling to happen to her. 

Two weeks later, Himae discovers that school at the clinic can be fun after all. Of course, math and science was still strenuous but that's the case almost everywhere. Literature class though is another story; the class is always filled with elation because of Han  – when she decides to come (not as fun as the one with Junhyung though). Jaerim loves Literature and is good at it from the books she read. Thanks to them, her vocabulary is expansive while Han spends half the time trying to guess the definitions on her spoken words based on the contexts. When Han doesn't get them right, she remarks: “What language do you speak?” Everyone would laugh and Himae realizes it's an atmosphere she can't re-live in NOA. The students find relegation funny and the teachers are too uptight. She doesn't remember laughing so candidly. 

Along with studying, Himae is also allowed to call people now. Before the nurses would call her during her spare to inform her that her parents are on the line but now she can call them freely or even call her friends.

Friends.

Friends. She wonders if she has any left. Of course there's Jisun and Mari and she did leave on good terms but she doesn't want to answer their questions – especially since they're expecting her to sound vivacious. After two weeks at Green Meadows, her enmity for the place have drizzle down to naught. She just lives here. It is her home for now so she has grown to accept it but not love it. It's going to take time. 

You're going to be here forever so time is not an issue. 

She decides to put her friends off and dials her mother's office because no one's at home.

Her mother picks up after 5 seconds which translates to free time at her office, which is a rarity. 

“Hey Mom,” Himae says.

“Hello Love, how are you doing?” Her mom asks, exultant to hear her. Surprisingly, she doesn't question how or why Himae’s able to call her. This means that family therapy is living up to its purpose.

“I’m allowed to talk on the phone freely now so I just wanted to ask how you were,” she replies. Honesty is your way to recovery, Ms. Choi would remind Himae.

“That’s wonderful. I’m doing well. I just had lunch and was looking over some paperwork. I’m glad you called though, I was thinking of where we should go next time you’re on your visit,” her mother chuckles and Himae smiles.

The good thing about Green Meadows is that it permits their patients to keep their social life in track by letting them have monthly visits with the psychologist's approval. This month's visit is in another week and her parents are already anticipating her visit. 

“We should go on a picnic or just shopping together,” Himae suggests. It’s been a while since they've all been out shopping together. It’s always been Himae and her friends, or Himae and her grandma.

“Sounds great. We can get a mani-pedi on the way, us two haven’t gone out in a long time." Her mom agrees and the fantasy of shopping with her mom is running through her mind.

She can spend time with her mom. She's going to have a girls' day out with her mom. The thought made her so merry. 

It's because of your ED that she's paying attention. If not then she wouldn't even look at you. 

“We should.”

There’s rustling and voices in the background. Her mother puts the phone down for a bit without a forewarning and she hears her mother sighing. Himae knows too well what it means.

Good-bye.

“Himae, I have to go now – something came up. We’ll talk again." 

The line goes dead before Himae could agree or disagree. She grimly puts the phone down. It’s a short conversation but it’s been a while since they even had one so it’s a sign of improvement, she persuades herself. Himae shouldn't expect any more but it’s always “I have to go.” No matter how happy or heartwarming the conversation is, they always cut her off, leaving her. What should she do about it?

Accept it. They’re just going to put this up front until you’re out and then it’s going to be a repeat. Isn't this a repeat of what usually happens? They leave before you can even say 'bye.?'

Her fists shake from anger because she knows the voice is right. Her parents do leave her. They only appear if she’s in the hospital or something outrageous happens. It’s never about her but what happens around her and how that could affect the company’s standing. Is she that unloved by her parents?

Himae heads down to Ms. Choi’s office. She needs to talk. To vent. She just needs someone to listen even if it’s their job. She was never agitated by the voice but today she was. The voice being right just proved that Himae wasn't getting better. Even if Himae believes that she is, she isn't  She’s the only one fooling herself. To have the knowledge of that hurts.

She wished that her parents were enough for her to get better. She wants it so badly.

She knocks on the door and hears a faint: “Come in.” Himae keeps her eyes down and walks over to the chaise chair. Himae mutters a 'hi' and Ms. Choi folds her fingers together.

“Hello Himae,” she says, ever-so polite and posh. She invites Himae to sit in front of her and she obeys. Himae waits for Ms. Choi to prompt the questions but she doesn't. Her scheduled meeting is in another hour after all but she just waits patiently for Himae to speak.

“How do I look?” Himae blurts out, looking at Ms. Choi in the eye. “It’s been a while since I've had the chance to look in the mirror.” She needs to defy the voices, to prove them wrong. She is getting better at Green Meadows. She’s on the road to recovery and that road exists.

She isn't going to suffer from Ms. Choi's answer. 

Ms. Choi looks at her for a bit longer, digesting her question. Her lips curl into a sad smile and Himae already knows the answer. “Himae, you know I can’t answer that question.”

“I understand.” She just wanted to know what she looks like from another person’s eyes; not with her own eyes because she’s blind to everything but her own raw debacle.  

“I will tell you that you’re seeing the world while looking at the floor. Slowly lift your head and adjust to the sunlight. You’ll then truly see yourself for who you are.”

You are worthless and need to start becoming useful. 

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

The voice cackles and Himae tightens her hand into a fist.

Himae can’t take any of this bull crap anymore and speaks her mind: “When I see the reality upon me, Grandma’s death, no one at home, I feel so lonely. I can’t handle it.”

“So your eating disorder is a reliever for that reality,” Ms. Choi suggests and Himae stares.

“I don’t know. I don’t know so I go out so I don’t have to be home. I reach credit card limits, I have two sets of shirts that I don’t remember buying. I’m so poor in every aspect in life. Familial care, love, happiness and all I can do is spend money. How am I so poor when I have money?” Himae questions and it just doesn't make sense: she has all that she can reach within her fingertips but she's missing something and she doesn't know what it is.

Ms. Choi is busy writing all of this down and a satisfied grin slips her lips. “Sometimes life isn't about what you can touch Himae. It’s also about how you feel,” she replies. “Figure out how you feel and how you want to feel. Once you've found out what you want to feel, then you’re already improving.”

“I just want to be comfortable.” With herself, with being Geum Himae. That’s the biggest load that would be taken off her chest and she feels that she could start breathing then. She can run, jump without that load choking her, restricting her, dragging her down.

Ms. Choi smiles and she continues talking. 

When they're finished, Himae feels the world falling apart for some reason. Her structured life is unfolding as she reveals a little bit of herself. That small bit is flying in the air and she’s worried that there’ll be nothing left of her once she gets carried away.

She's going lose her fixed life. 

Is that your idea of being comfortable? Letting people see who you really are and pitying you?  

Himae tries to ignore the voice but the flashback of the time her grandma died or the time her mother cried keeps haunting her. She feels so cold all of a sudden. How is she going to get better with this voice haunting her?

Byul taps Himae on the shoulder. “Hey, you look pale.

Himae looks at Byul and realizes how accustomed she is to the latter appearing soundlessly beside her. Himae nods. “Tired, maybe that’s it.”

Byul shrugs. “If you’re sick, you should notify a nurse. They take things seriously here.” Again, Byul is speaking from experience and Himae wonders how her experience will be like. How much longer will she stay here?

“Byul, how long have you been here?”

She looks at Himae, a gentle smile gracing her lips. “A year now,” she says forlornly. A year. 365 days. 8765 hours. “It doesn't get easier even with experience.”

Himae knows that it doesn't  Experience only makes you hate yourself because you let the things happen to you day after day. You get better and then you fall harder into the ground. It and Byul must have it worst.

“How old are you?”

Byul grins, “Same as you, sixteen turning seventeen.” She averts her eyes away from Himae. “Even though we’re all around the same age, each one of us lives a different life. There may be secrets that we aren't comfortable sharing or things that can’t be learned through the eyes but it’s crazy how having Ana or Mia can connect us together – it’s not a good connection but it’s something, right?” She laughs but Himae can’t find the will to laugh.

I don’t want a connection.

For the next few hours, Himae’s been trying to get access to a mirror. Of course there are mirrors here but they are placed so high that Himae can only see her face and up to her collarbone. If only she can get taller or somehow smash the mirror and take a little reflective piece so she can see herself.

She’s probably fat now; an elephant, a whale, the size of a planet. She thinks of a future where she can eat freely and not care about the calories oozing from her blood. The size of her jeans going up, and this scares her. She starts shaking at the image of the fat piling up. She doesn’t want to be fat. She won’t let that happen.

She won’t let herself get fat.

Himae doesn't remember falling asleep but she does on Byul’s bed instead. Her bed smells like Byul – it’s nothing surprising but it’s comforting to know that. Jisun. She suddenly misses her. She manoeuvres out of bed to the telephone office. The nurse isn't surprised to see her using the telephone since she’s been using it almost every day to talk to her parents.

Himae dials the number and holds her breath. It’s been a month since she’s talked to anyone at school. The thought alone frightens her but it scares her even more if they don’t pick up.

What if they’re avoiding her?

She decides that after the tenth ring, she’ll hang up. Thankfully, after 5 slow seconds someone picks up.

“Jisun, it’s me,” Himae says, not caring if the housemaid answers. She wants to let them know it’s Himae.

“Himae?” Jisun questions and her voice sounds like a question. Himae closes her eyes to stop the tears. She misses her so much. When she opens her eyes, she misses her even more because she is isn't where Jisun is right now. She wants to be with Jisun and her baby blue colored bedroom. She wants to hear Jisun play the piano before she sleeps, she wants to go home.

“The one and only,” Himae tries to sound jovial with the hint of egotism she always carried but she probably sounds plastic like a fake person.

“Holy sh*t, how are you? We thought you were swept into an arranged marriage or something and your husband kept you chained up,” Jisun makes her bad jokes but Himae can’t stop laughing.

It feels nice to laugh with friends.

“I’m doing well. It’s just that my new school is strict with things like this – not saying that I got in trouble or anything to be sent here. Think of it as me enriching my ballet,” Himae lies. She knows Jisun will buy it because she’s never lied to her before. There were white lies though, but they were all harmless ones like: “I’ll be there in five minutes.” 

Her first lie to Jisun and it’s about something so important. She feels guilty but this guilt is better than secreting her ED from Jisun.

“That’s wonderful! They’re probably going to train you into a prima. I can’t wait to see you on the professional stage some day,” Jisun remarked enthusiastically and Himae lets Jisun paint her own image of her.

Himae stops thinking for a second. On stage some day. Can that dream even come true now? Especially with her like this? Ballet was never her dream but now, what she wanted to do the most is to dance. Even if she didn't have the polish wooden floor or anyone to applaud her, she wanted to dance. She wanted that balance back in her life.

Jisun’s voice brings her back. “Mae? Are you still there? Is everything okay?”

No. She’s not.

“Hey, what’s happening? I know you’re still on the line,” Jisun demands and Himae can’t stop thinking about her future. What is going to become of it now? Is she going to spend the rest of it fighting Ana? Destroying Ana? How many sacrifices is she going to make for it? Will she die in the process?

“Why aren't –”

“Jiji, I want to go home,” Himae realizes that what she wants most is to go home. To forget about Green Meadows and forget Ana ever existed. She doesn't want to live her life panicky and in anxiety. She hates the pills, hates the psychologist. She hates this life. “I want...” She almost breaks into tears but clams herself through deep breathes. “I really want to go home.”

“Mae, don’t worry, you’ll come home eventually. If it’s lonely there, remember that I love you and that your family and friends love you. Please remember that,” Jisun comforts her flustered self.

“Thank you,” Himae says, reassured. She needed this talk with Jisun because Jisun always knew what to say; it never sounded overdone but it was always enough to placate her.  

“Where are you anyway?” Jisun inquiries and this time, Himae knows it’s out of genuine care and not curiosity.

Himae ponders for a bit, wondering what to answer. Can she really tell Jisun? She can trust her but it’s so embarrassing, telling her that she’s here because she’s sick. She couldn't fight. She couldn't handle the stress. No, she can’t tell her.

 “Is it okay if I don’t answer it?” Himae stammers.

“It’s okay, you can tell me when you come home,” Jisun understands and Himae’s grateful for that. She hangs up with Jisun and knows there’s another person she owes a talk to.

Mari.  

Himae closes her eyes. There’s something she wants to confirm.

Did her parents really figure it out by themselves?

Mari betrayed you. She secretly hates you.

She dials the number and it takes three rings for Mari to pick up.

“Mari,” Himae utters.

“Himae? Oh my gosh, are you well? I – I miss you.” Mari stumbles in a mess and it’s the first time Himae’s heard Mari so uncertain and flustered.

“Mari, did you tell my parents that I have an eating disorder?” Himae asks, nonchalant to Mari’s previous remarks.  Mari notices this and stops talking, as if the excitement in her died. The one thing Himae has always questioned was how her parents knew about Ana. They weren't home often to see the signs so it never made sense for them to suddenly demand a check-up. Someone must have told them and only Mari had the slightest hint. She doesn't want to believe it’s her and definitely doesn't want to hate Mari – no, never but she doesn't want to continue doubting herself.

Her grave response: “No, I didn't.” There is hurt in her voice but there’s also this urge. Her voice is urging her, asking Himae: “You trust me, don’t you?”

Himae stays quiet. She’d trust Mari with her life but she doesn't want to believe that her parents figured it out. She’s finally talking with her parents again. They’re finally here. She doesn't want to ruin it by getting angry at them. She doesn't want to lose her family, she can’t afford it.

Ironic much.

“Himae?”

Himae’s fingers are tightly grasping the phone out of rage. She’s not scared that her fingernails will break since they cut it short to avoid scratching, nail biting. So she presses the tips of her fingers against the telephone so hard that her fingers turn ghostly white but she doesn’t care. She didn’t care either when she hung up on Mari.

Himae wakes up in the middle of the night crying. She treated Mari so wrongly. Mari doesn't deserve crap from her but she couldn't talk to her any longer. If she did then Mari would have confirmed that her parents set it up. Her parents sent her to this hell and she hold rancor towards her parents for sending her here because well, they’re her parents. Her parents want her fat and gone – to Himae, that’s the biggest feat of betrayal. She wanted to believe that Mari told them because it’s easier to get mad at Mari than with her parents. She always wanted her parents’ attention; never did she want to hate them.

Her blood turns cold at the comprehension.

She chose her parents over Mari.

More tears escape as the darkness engulfs her mind. Mari's parents hurt her. Now she hurt Mari. She was no worse than Mari’s treacherous father and passive mother. Mari always depended on Jisun and Himae for a family, and here was Himae, causing more bruises than her parents.

Gosh, you’re a selfish b*tch.

Why is she allowed to breathe?

Thoughts of Mari crying haunt her for a week yet Himae doesn't call. She doesn't deserve to call Mari. This pushes Himae over the edge and she starts hating herself and her decision (or lack of). She wants to leave so she doesn't have to think of this – of her faults.  

She’s sitting on the chaise lounge  It’s one of her weekly therapeutic sessions and she’s ‘supposed’ to be talking to Ms. Choi but Himae doesn't find the need to talk. She doesn't need to be diagnosed with anything but Ms. Choi still continues to ask questions to which she’ll answer if she feels like it, which is very rare.  

She doesn't want to lose control of her life, she wants to choose her path. 

“Himae, we were making progress last week, what happened?” Ms. Choi questions. Himae hears the frustration because Ms. Choi had expectations for her. She expected Himae to progress forward not backwards.

Doesn't she know that expectations are what’s killing Sarang and Byul?

Himae shrugs. She swears Ms. Choi lets out a sigh. “Why don't you try using your voice instead of your body to tell me that you are hurting, to tell me what you need,” she asks, and this is the first time she’s heard her say that. Is that why she met Ana? Because she’s hurting and she’s responding to the hurt by starvation? Starvation is better than the pain she’s feeling? Starvation numbs her and takes away the pain?

Is that really it?

Himae stares at Ms. Choi and her lips are parted, ready to tell her everything.

“I have no problem.”

The hope in Ms. Choi’s eyes is gone and she scribbles on her clipboard.

She needs to leave. 

-

Miriam reporting here. Did you know that the name Miriam means -according to the Hebrew origin - “star of the sea?” It could also mean “rebellion,” “wished for child” or “sea of bitterness” as well if it’s based on Miryam, another version of Mary. I find that canny because it’s one name but depending on where you look, the meaning changes. It really says something about people, eh?.

 You know what’s another thing I noticed? The italics. They appear so much more often now and their words are becoming more malicious, don’t you think? The good thing is that it seems like Himae is retaliating against the words but I don’t think it’s enough. /sigh/

One of the things about the clinic/hospital Himae is staying at is that it offers a school – of course, there isn’t much of a variety except for the core courses but it’s something right? Even if you’re stuck in the clinic/hospital and get out, it’ll help you continue with your life.

Now, time to be serious: The scenes depicted in the clinics/hospital are all from Jena’s library research and extra reading, and her personal experience with this girl who told Jena about the ED. The girl ended up being hospitalized again for her ED and Jena never knew how grave EDs were until she met her and the idea of something so solemn going unnoticed really got Jena worked up to write this. Scenes with the group discussions (Han, Sarang, Dina, Jaerim and Byul) were inspired from research and reading. The scene with Byul exercising was from the girl’s story about her roommate and the ups and downs of Himae’s road to recovery are also from the girl’s experience. She told Jena how hard it was to let go of the thoughts and truly recover and how easy it was to fall back into the small habit. One thought, one walk in the mall and she’s relapsing.  She must have really needed someone to talk to her and her desperation for help really touched Jena, hence she wrote this story. This chapter is probably going to be the most ED-heavy because she doesn't want to take the chances if it triggers her readers but she’s warning you guys that there will be more italics; Himae’s thoughts will still come so please, if this story upsets you then please, Jena is begging that you stop reading. There will be no hard-feelings but just wishes for your well-being.

Who knows, her hospital scenes may be horribly off but Jena’s trying and revising (many, many times) to try to make it as realistic as possible. Of course Jena sugar-coats some scene (the cafeteria, her group therapy) because she doesn't want the story to be so heavy on the mind.

Speaking of her group discussions, Jaerim’s poem is actually a song by Eric Whitacre! Here’s the link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bxjWNJU8rNE

As for the next chapters, they’re going to be coming out faster now that Jena's got a bunch of notebooks for her  birthday and Christmas and has decided to use one of them as her prompt notebook to write down random ideas that come to mind or any notable lyrics and quotes that could inspire her to write. So far, it’s working! :)

~Miriam

C O M M E N T

my goodness, it's been november since I updated ;o; nearly a year!! terribly sorry about this. I didn't imagine senior year to be so busy with all the clubs and when I went to Vietnam for vacation, I had no time to write at all :( and school starts in 2 weeks...but have no fear, that prompt journal is really doing its job! :)

iwannaBangMir: can I say that your user really made me giggle? thank you for your gracious comment, it made my day. I'm glad that you harbour some care towards himae since I love her very much as well ;o;!! I do hope you forgive me for the lack fo junae again in this chapter but it does show some progress (if you squint?) and in her visit, expect something!! :) I may take a while to update but I'll never abandon this story! mark my word~~