Warning: Excessive swearing and (possibly) inaccurate portrayal of mental ward/patient. I did lots of research, but I’m not sure if everything I said was right. I also used my experiences from volunteering at a home care and applied it to this chapter.

If you do see some inaccuracies, please inform me!  

I stared into the ceiling, looking at the shade of beige paint. My neck freaking hurts. The stupid nurse says I can only sleep with one pillow, since I can harm another person with a second pillow. And if I wanted to sleep with another people. I had to get a stupid doctor’s order. that. No one believes me anyways, so the doctor’s probably not going to trust me.

 The ‘sleeping’ medicine had worn off already, and I feel like complete utter . Actually, I always feel like . Especially when I’m in a ing mental ward. 

The doctor made me take some Seroquel prior to sleeping, which is some ing weird drug that gives you nightmares. Last night I dreamt of some white pony chasing me. And no, it wasn’t a nice pony at all. It was a vicious, evil pony that had sharp teeth and red eyes. I don’t even know if it’s a pony.

It’s not like I have a mental illness, my abouji is the one with the mental illness! He’s convinced that I’m ing crazy, even though I heard the truth from his very own lips. In that moment, God was pretty much telling me to choke my abouji. Choke him down to hell and take every bit of his breath. But my plan didn’t ing work. He’s still living, breathing in this world.

Why was the world unfair? While my abouji was prospering, I was in this mental ward.

I ing miss Jaejoong. You don’t know how much tears I shed. From guilt, anger, and sadness. I want him to comfort me. I miss his voice, his hug, his kisses. It’s been weeks, no months since I’ve seen him, and it’s driving me ing crazy.

I hate everyone. I hate my abouji. I hate Kang-Chul, I hate Lee Mi Ran. I hate Park Yoochun. I hate the nurses. I hate the doctors. I hate the stupid patients surrounding me.

There’s a bunch of mental people here, and I refuse to be grouped with them! They’re so ing crazy. What a bunch of ing es. Muttering and doing .

“My Jin-Hee’s going to make chocolate pie...my Jin Hee’s going to make chocolate pie...” the man muttered over and over again.

Damn, could I just throw a pillow at his face?!

I can’t. The nurses are going to punish me. I need to behave so I can get out of this stupid hospital and apologize to Jaejoong. 

Right now, the sky is grey, and the windows are foggy. Currently, it’s February and the snow is falling more than ever. Just looking at snow depresses me. It reminds me too much of Jaejoong.

Did you know that we made love in the first day of snow? His body, oh his body was pale as the snow. And his lips...I can never forget the taste of them that day. And the satisfying that I had. His body...oh it was so soft, just like a pillow. That day, I took his innocence and made it a thing of the past.

His happiness was also a thing of the past. His freedom, his dignity. All ruined by that fire and my father’s intentions.

I rose from my bed as the door flung open.

“Yunho-ssi, Donghae-ssi,” the medical tech said.

“Yeah?”

“Breakfast will be in 30 minutes.”

“Okay.”

~

Today is pancake day. I’m saying it like that’s a good thing, even though it’s not since the pancakes taste like total .

I’m not even sure if I’m just being picky or not, but Jaejoongie omma’s food is the best. Nothing can top her food. I bet the pancakes are made from mushed birds or something because the consistency is the same. It’s not like I ate mushed birds before; I was just making a comparison.

You know how long in line I’ve waited for this pancake? Like ten minutes. Imagine standing for ten minutes, waiting for some nasty- pancake.

“Yunho, eat your pancake,” the nurse said in a baby-like voice.

There’s always a nurse to accompany me to eat, her name is Lee Young Ae, and she forces me to eat, even if I didn’t want to. She’s in her fourties, and her eyes are hazel, just like Go-Ara’s. I guess she’s nice, but I don’t like how she talks to me like I’m some baby.

“I don’t want to,” I refused, shoving the pancake away from me.

“Please Yunho, your weight loss has been rapid...if you don’t eat, you’ll faint from malnourishment...”

“Then hook me up to some IV, because I don’t ing want to eat it!! I’m only going to eat Jaejoong’s food!” I cried.

Why didn’t anyone listen to me?

“Yunho...”

Why was she so persistent? I didn’t want the damn pancakes! Refusing to eat, I pushed the pancakes off the table as it plopped onto the ground.

I refuse to eat. I won’t eat. Never. I’m going to sit here until Jaejoong comes to save me.

~

I sat in the usual spot of the office, just near the window. There’s a nice, comfy orange couch and there’s lots of room to lie and just chill. But obviously this place wasn’t to chill, it was to have an interview. Well, not as a celebrity but as a patient.

Looking outside, piles of snow covered the grass, making the Earth look pure. Obviously looks were deceiving, because the Earth wasn’t pure. It was cruel as hell.

“Hello Jung Yunho-ssi, sorry I’m late...I had to talk to another patient,” my physiatrist said.

“It’s okay I guess,” I replied, crossing my arms.

My physiatrist’s name is Dr. Moon Jung Hyuk. Eric was his other name since he lived in America from quite some time. He is good looking, I guess. He’s definitely not the common looking man. He has broad shoulders, big eyes with double eyelids. He has sunkissed skin, and a small mouth. He looks like a man that girls would love. I bet Jaejoong would’ve had a crush on this guy.

“So, let me ask you some questions, okay Yunho-ssi?”

“Yes,” I nodded.

“So Yunho-ssi,” he said, scooting his chair near me. He looked at the clipboard on his lap, then his gaze returning to mine.

“For the past month, we’ve prescribed you with some sertraline...now tell me, have you been getting any side effects with the medicine?” he asked. 

“No...well I don’t know...”

“Headaches?”

“No,” I replied.

“Have you been eating well?”

I shook my head.

“That’s something we need to fix,” he remarked. “I heard from the nurse that you refuse to eat your meals...and if you’re forced to eat, you end up crying.”

“I don’t like the food here.”

“I heard from your brother that he tried to take you out to eat the other day and you refused.”

“Let me correct myself then. I don’t want to eat. At all,” I gnarled.

“I heard you only ate one piece of bread yesterday with the help of the nurse.”

“I did,” I replied.

“If you continue to do this, we have to resort to hooking you up in the IV, or even prescribing stronger medicine to make up for your lack of food.”

“Then do it,” I spat.

“...”

“Now let me ask you another question...” he said, lowering his eyes to the paper.

“...”

“Do you feel any dizziness?”

“Well, yeah...kinda...sometimes....” I replied.

“How serious are they?”

“Um, well, it’s not that bad. Just a little...” I said.

“Do you get any pain in your chest?”

“Hmmm...not really...” I responded.

“Do you have trouble with your breath?” he asked.

“No, all normal...”

“Does any part of your body feel weak?” he asked.

“Hmmm....no.”

“How was your sleep last night?”

“Well, good I guess...I got a weird nightmare though,” I said.

“It was probably from that other medicine we’ve induced you with...now tell me Yunho-ssi, what did you dream about?”

“Some...some pony....it was chasing me...it was really, really scary...” I stammered, envisioning the pony’s evil stare.

“Was there anything else in that dream?”

“Um, not that I know of. It was just me and that scary pony...” I said.

“Now Yunho,” Eric says, shifting in his chair. “Let me ask you a different set of questions.”

“Okay,” I said, nodding.

“At times, do you feel...scared for no reason?”

“Well...well...sometimes I do...”

“And when is that?” he asked.

“Um, when I think about that person.”

“Do you still feel guilt towards him?” he asked.

“I do...” I nodded.

“When you think about him, what kind of thoughts pop up?”

I took a deep breath, knowing this would be a long explanation.

“Guilt...”

“How so?” he asked.

“I...I didn’t get to protect him...from my abouji...he’s probably scared...because of me...”

“Now Yunho-ssi,” the doctor said. “You have to know that none of this was your fault. The events that happened were inevitable...”

“But...but it is...” I croaked. For some reason, tears were welling in my eyes. I rubbed my eyes, hoping he wouldn’t see me cry.

“What other thoughts come to mind?” he asked.

“Sadness...” I croaked.

“Sadness? Please elaborate on that Jung Yunho-ssi.”

“Well...I get sad...knowing that he’s gone...knowing that he’s not with me anymore...”

“Do...do you need a tissue?” he asked.

I nodded.

He stretched his arm over to the desk and handed me a Kleenex. I dabbed my cheeks with the tissue, hoping those were my last tears.

“Are you okay now?” he asked.

No.

“I think so,” I lied, crumpling the tissue within my hands.

“So...let me ask the next question,” he said, flipping the page. “How important was that person? That person who you constantly talk about?”

“That person...” I said. “I can’t live without him.”

“Why? Was he a brother? A close friend?” he asked.

“No.”

“Then, what was he?”

“Not was. Is. He’s still alive,” I replied.

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“...”

“So let me repeat, was kind of person is he to you?” he asked.

“He’s my lover,” I said, not bothering to hesitate.

I expected a reaction, but for some reason he seemed calm about it.  

“I see,” he said, nodding.

“Aren’t...aren’t you weirded out...that he’s a boy?” I asked.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I get many homoual patients.”

“Oh, okay...”

“Anyways...you said you couldn’t live without him, right?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Does your life feel empty without him?”

“Yes,” I replied.

“If he was here in your presence, would you live life prior to your stay at the mental hospital?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“That person...what was the cause of your attachment towards him?”

“I don’t know...I guess...I just didn’t have a mother. Before he moved into my house...I... felt as if nobody cared for me...”

“Why is that?” he asked.

“Everyone’s doing their own thing. They have their own life. They wouldn’t give a about me. My abouji hates me. My hyung is pretty much perfect. My little brother has his own world...my step-omma had hers...and the maids are too busy with their own household work. I had no one to talk to about my problems...until he came...”

“What was it like when he came? How did you feel?”

“When he came to that house...I didn’t like him at first. I was annoyed at the sight of him...but...but...when I got into a fight one day and ended up having to go to the hospital...he gave me...you know what he gave me?” I asked breathlessly.

“What is it?”

“A lunchbox...no one...ever in my life...has even bothered to give me a lunch box. I know it sounds pathetic since I could just ask one of my maids to make me one...but it felt like...some actually cared for me. In this dark world that I lived in... someone actually cared for me...”

“What happened after that?”

“I started to like him...really badly...I became crazy for him...crazy to the point that I would get anxiety if he wasn’t around...”

“...”

“That boy...Kim Jaejoong...he’s like a shelter to me. He’s warm, affectionate, and somewhat familiar...without him I feel stranded...I feel like a lost child roaming around the streets in a cold winter day...

~

“GO AWAY!!!”

I jumped from my seat as I heard that girl’s screaming. Looking over my shoulder, it was Jung Soo-Jung, a girl with schizophrenia. She was probably seeing things right now. I couldn’t help but tremble. The girl was literally going crazy.

Her long hair flew over her face as she ran around in circles, flapping her arms everywhere like some circus clown or something.

The nurses run to Soo Jung and take her away from our sight, leading her out of the room.

“Who is that?”

I turn around, sighting a sickly-looking girl. She’s tall and has really skinny, pale legs. Her hair is long and black, with strands pinned at the back. She’s quite pretty too. Only if she wasn’t so skinny, her looks would be at its peak.

“That’s Jung Soo Jung,” I whispered. “She has schizophrenia...”

“Ah, I see...” she nodded.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Me? Oh...Im Yoona,” she replied.

“I’m Jung Yunho,” I said. “How old are you?”   

“Oh, I’m a first year student,” she replied. “You?”

“I'm a third year student...so that means we're two years apart," I said in banmal. 

“Ah...I see,” she said, nodding.

“Want to sit with me?” I asked, pointing to the table with the paper and pencils.

“Sure,” she nodded. “Since you’re the only person I know...”

Yoona joins me as I sit down at the table near the window. There’s a bunch of people in the lounge, just doing stuff like reading or talking to people. This is the only time I can get a break from the doctors.

“I’ve never seen you before, are you new here or something?” I asked, picking up the pencil.

“Yeah...” she nodded.

“Why did you get sent here?” I asked.

“Because...of my eating disorder,” she muttered, her eyes shifting back and forth.

“Oh...I see...” I said, eyeing her extremely thin arms.

“...”

“How do you like things so far?” I asked, trying to make her feel welcome.

“Well...it’s strange...it feels like I’m in a foreign country...”

“That’s how I felt too...” I said, continuing to sketch on the paper.

“How...how long have you been here?” she asked.

“A month,” I said.

 “...”

“How...how was your first day like?” she asked.

~

January 5th 2007 (A month earlier)

The doors are locked, and I’m trapped in this room, waiting for the results to come. It’s been six hours since I’ve been at this hospital...and I ing want to go home already. Apparently this was the most tedious process of getting fully admitted.

For six hours, I’ve been thinking about Jaejoong. Where he is, what he’s doing, how he looks like. Was he eating? Was he crying? Was he angry at me?

To the left, there’s a window to some room. Inside were the medical techs, who were currently assessing my mental state or whatever it was. I go over to the window and knock on it, hoping they would respond to my upcoming question.

“How long will it take?”