His question caught her off guard. Jiyeon opened to comment, but closed it. Studying him through narrowed eyes, she remained silent for a moment. "Frankly speaking, I don't care if you want to date somebody five years older than you or fifty years older than you. It's really none of my business. It's your life." Her voice took on a serious tone. "You only have one life to live on this earth. Live it based on what you want, not what others think it should be. Your life and your experiences are truly your own."

His lips grew first into a smile and then he laughed. Jiyeon stared at him in dumb amazement as he just kept laughing. She inhaled and blew the breath out hard enough to ruffle the strands of her hair. "What? What the hell are you laughing at? I didn't say anything funny."

"I'm sorry," Jaehyun said as the laughter finally tapered off, "I was expecting you to say the popular saying that 'age is nothing but a number'. But your answer…I was impressed with your blunt honesty—I found it refreshing and amusing."

Popular saying? Well, it was probably the first time she had ever heard it. Jiyeon clicked her tongue, shaking her head. "You were expecting me to say that popular saying? Why?"

"He is teasing you, my girl," the voice whispered in her left ear, sounding angry, "don't fall for him; he is a playboy."

"I-I was just—" Jaehyun paused, his lips working, but no sound emerging. He cleared his throat. "Because you are a math teacher. You like playing with numbers, don't…" his voice trailed off.

Jiyeon stood her ground, trying to appear calm as he stepped closer to her. He looked directly into her eyes as he continued, "Teacher Park, thank you for reminding me. Since I only have one life, I should do my best in the time given to me. I'll never give up, never give in to fear and never withhold love."

"Life is a journey that we have to enjoy the ride," Jiyeon remarked, "the grave is the end of our life's journey." She held his steady gaze, her heart picking up its erratic rhythm. She gave a little sigh under a faint smile. A slow, sweet smile began to spread across his features.

"We don't know when we'll die, or how we'll die. We just know that we are going to experience death. I think we should do the best we can while we're alive, and self-love is the kind of love we really need to survive," Jaehyun said, "I like talking to you, getting to know you."

"That's right. We don't know when or how we'll die"—except for those who choose to kill themselves; they know their next few actions are the last actions they will ever take. I respect their freedom of choice. In my eyes, suicide is a personal choice. I personally will never ever kill myself. I love myself too much. To me, life is such a special gift of Almighty that shouldn't be thrown away. There is so much I can do, so much I can explore—"but God does. And loving ourselves is indeed really important, to stay sane in an insane world. We live in an insane and cruel world, where money is more important than humanity. I like talking to you too."

"Money rules all…I wish we could talk more often."  

"I'm always ready to talk to you."

"Really?" Jaehyun raised his voice slightly. Jiyeon gave him a nod. His eyes grew softer and his smile sweeter.

"My girl, stop flirting with him! Go home now!" Baekwoon's angry voice rang loudly. She gritted her teeth as his words burned into her ears.

"Shut up and stop being jealous, Baekwoon. I'm not yours. You don't own me. You never have, and you never will," Jiyeon muttered quietly between clenched teeth. Glancing down at her watch, she noted the time. "I'm going home. See you next time, Jaehyun," she told him, then stepped into the street. She raised her hand to hail a cab, and it skidded to a stop in front of her. Before she could reach for the handle to open the door, his hand was there. Jaehyun opened the door for her.

"Can I have your number, Teacher Park?" he asked as she climbed into the passenger seat.

"No, I'm sorry, you can't," Jiyeon replied, placing her bag on her lap. "I don't have a cell phone."

Jaehyun screwed up his face a bit, eyes squinted. "You really don't have a cell phone?" His voice dripped with disbelief.

She gave him a very serious look. "I've never owned one, and I'm never going to get one. I prefer real face-to-face communication," Jiyeon answered, her voice soft, but firm, "I find cell phones to be incredibly disruptive; they inhibit solitude and self-reflection, which I think are essential for living a good life."

He nodded, pursing his lips a little. He shifted his gaze towards the cabbie. "Uncle, please drive carefully. You only have one life to live," Jaehyun said. Jiyeon smiled inwardly at his words.

The cabbie threw a glance over his shoulder and said, "Don't worry, young man. I'm a competent driver and don't take unnecessary risks."

"Jaehyun, you too, drive carefully," Jiyeon told him.

"I will," he responded, smiling. "Good night, Teacher Park." He closed the car door carefully.

Jiyeon told the cabbie her destination, and he nodded wordlessly, pulling into traffic. She quickly glanced through the back window, and her lips lifted into a smile, seeing her student wave his hand. The smile still gracing her face, she rested her head against the car's headrest and closed her eyes, letting the memory of crying drift in front of her closed lids. She didn't feel ashamed of crying in her student's arms. She didn't commit a crime, anyway. She swore she would never say things like 'don't cry', 'stop crying' to anyone. Why? To her, saying those things meant she didn't appreciate their self-expression.

Crying is very good; it's a fantastic way to release pent-up emotions, and one should always let people cry freely if they need to. Crying is not a crime or a sign of weakness. Crying is a sign of living!

She opened her eyes as she felt the cab slow down. The cab's brakes screeched to a stop. The cabbie announced, "We're here."

Handing the wad of bills forward, Jiyeon said, "Thank you, Uncle." She opened the door and stepped out of the cab. She looked up. Above, the sky was clear, stars twinkling coolly. Looking at the stars reminded her of how small she really was: just a speck in this immense universe. It was like staring into a big mystery! And at the same time it made her feel peaceful.  

"Such a wonderful view," she mumbled.

The voice whispered in her right ear, "The universe is too vast and full of mysteries."

Jiyeon nodded in agreement. She drew in a deep, sweet lungful of air and smiled contentedly. Humming the melody of her student's song, she walked down the concrete path which led to her front door. However, she immediately stopped humming, noticing her mother stand outside the front door with her left arm folded across her stomach, her fist supporting the elbow of her right arm, which angled up toward her face, her outstretched index finger tapping her chin as she looked upward.

My mom is waiting for me? She is no longer angry at me? Even though I've felt very disappointed and saddened by her intention to take me to a psychiatrist, I still love her, will always love her. I only have one mother in my lifetime; I treasure her. She does everything for me. I am so lucky and blessed to have her in my life. Jiyeon beamed with gratitude.

"As a math teacher, you make a good salary. You could live quite comfortably if you moved out on your own," the voice echoed in her ear, its tone conveying mockery, "you just don't want to because you'd have to cook, clean and shop for yourself. You are a lazy . Right, my girl?"

"I admit I'm too lazy to do those things. I prefer to live with my parents because I love them. I really like living in my home. I enjoy being with my parents. They are growing old, and I don't know how much longer I will have the pleasure of their companionship and love," Jiyeon muttered. "I give my mom ninety percent of my salary. As a human being, I need money for my basic survival needs. Yes, money is a necessity but not everything in life. It is definitely true I can't take anything with me when I die. You know I'm a lazy , so why are you so obsessed with me?"

"My girl, I'm not obsessed with you. Your just needs to be kicked, so that you will stop being a lazy !" the voice laughed.

She clicked her tongue. "Tsk, that's not funny."

Her mother turned her gaze straight ahead and said, "Come here." She stretched her arms out to her, smiling.

Jiyeon ran over to her mother and hugged her. "Mom, I'm so sorry for yelling at you," she said as she laid her head on her mother's shoulder.

Her mother's arms tightened around her. "I've forgiven you," she whispered, "I'm very sorry for slapping you, sweetie."

"I love you, Mom."

"I love you too."

Closing her eyes, Jiyeon allowed herself to savor the warmth of her mother's arms, the sense of security in her arms. It felt so good that her heart leapt for joy, and tears formed behind her closed lids. It was like the whole world was full of love.

Her mother released her from her embrace. She placed a hand on each of Jiyeon's cheeks and kissed her on the forehead. "Sweetie, I have something to talk about," she spoke in a kind and gentle, though very serious tone.

"I feel a little sticky," Jiyeon informed, "I want to take a shower first."

Her mother nodded slightly, saying, "I'm going to get the dinner on."

She reached into her pocket and pulled out the key and her mother's cell phone. She handed them to her mother. "Thank you, Mom," Jiyeon said, giving her mother a quick kiss on the cheek before she stepped inside the house and headed upstairs to her bedroom. She opened the door and was surprised to see the bed neatly made up with gleaming white sheets, pillowcases and a thick brown blanket. Guilt hit her in the chest like a tight knot. She had allowed laziness to take over her and let her mother clean her urine.

"I'm sorry, Mom," Jiyeon muttered under her breath.

As she inhaled deeply, trying to banish the guilt she felt, the fragrant scent of lavender aded her senses, giving her comfort. It's time to stop the laziness. She exhaled slowly then entered the room. She placed her bag on the table before she rushed into the bathroom, took a quick shower, and changed into her green silk pajamas. She went downstairs and could smell a strong aroma of cooking fish.

Jiyeon made her way to the dining room, which had already been set. The fruit basket in the center of the table was full of bananas, her favorite fruit. Looking down at the bowl of fish stew with tomatoes and rice, watering, she said, "It smells good. I'm hungry." She pulled out the chair opposite her mother and settled into it.

"Mom, thank you for cleaning my room," Jiyeon said as she lifted the spoon and placed it into the bowl. "You said you have something you want to talk about—"

"Finish your food first," her mother cut her off.

Jiyeon nodded, stirring her fish stew. She took a spoonful of the stew, savored it slowly, then closed her eyes and sighed with genuine pleasure. Not too spicy but so delicious. "Pure heaven!"

Her mother smiled at her and began to eat. They ate the rest of their food in silence. Once they finished, Jiyeon got up and stacked the bowls, saying, "I can take care of this."

"Of course, you can," her mother remarked, a faint smile playing on her lips. "You're not a toddler."

"I'm all grown up, Mom!" she declared, smiling proudly. "I can do whatever I want!"

Her mother's response was a tiny nod. She poured water from the pitcher into her glass. Slowly, her mother drank it. Jiyeon walked the dirty bowls to the sink. She washed and dried them with a drying towel that was sitting on the kitchen counter and placed them in the cupboard over the sink. When she went back to the dining room, her mother wasn't there.

Jiyeon grabbed a banana and peeled it using her thumb and forefinger on her right hand. She wolfed down the entire banana in three bites. "It's sweet." She grabbed a second banana and peeled it in the same manner as before. She took a large bite of the banana, eating half of it at once. She grabbed the pitcher and poured water into her glass. She lifted the glass to her lips and drank its contents in one long gulp.

She burped loudly. "Thanks God for giving me delicious food!"

Holding the dirty glasses and banana peels, Jiyeon walked back over to the sink. She tossed the banana peels into the trash can under the sink, then washed glasses, dried them and put them back in the cupboard. "I'm finished!" She sighed with contentment and lifted her arms over her head. She stretched, arching her back, lifting herself up on her toes. Then she walked around the first floor of the house, looking briefly in each room, saying: "Mom, where are you? You said you have something to talk about."

After finding no trace of her mother, Jiyeon flew up the stairs. She felt her heart begin to race. She was fearful that what if something happened to her mother. "Mom!" she called out as she raced to check the rooms on the second floor. She was filled with relief as she looked into the study room and saw her mother sitting in the black leather chair.

"You love spending time with your dad here," her mother said, smiling as Jiyeon approached her. Yes, she and her father spent most of their time together in this room: reading books, reviewing research.

Jiyeon pulled out a chair and sat facing her mother. She folded her arms on the desk and smiled as she remembered the first time her father showed her math tricks—her seven-year-old self thought her father was a magician. Why not use these tricks to show Taeyong and his classmates, who find Mathematics is boring, that Mathematics can be fun! Her smile grew wider.

Her mother held Jiyeon's hand in hers. "It seems like yesterday you were just a baby. Now you have turned into a beautiful and intelligent woman, and it makes me so incredibly proud. You are dearly loved by the ones who love you," her mother added, her voice so soft, so inexplicably tender.

Tears welled up in her eyes at the sound of her mother's voice. Her words touched her soul. How great was her mother's sacrifice! Jiyeon bowed her head, blinking her tears back.

There was a short pause before her mother spoke again, "It's no surprise to me that someone thought you're a suitable match for her son."

Jiyeon looked up and met her mother's eyes. "Mom, what exactly do you want to talk about?" she questioned.

Her mother's smile faded, and her expression changed to serious. "Your colleague, Mrs. Kim Hyesun visited our house in your absence. She told me that she has an interest in introducing her son to you. She has invited us for lunch tomorrow—"

"Don't tell me you have accepted her invitation." Jiyeon sprang to her feet. "I don't want to—"

"Sit back down and listen to me," her mother instructed firmly. "You said you will obey whatever I ask you to do except one: see a psychiatrist or psychologist, do you remember?"

"Yes, I do." Jiyeon plopped back down in the chair with a thump, her eyes downcast. She didn't have any interest in matchmaking. She had never thought that Mrs. Kim would have visited her house and talked about this sort of thing with her mother.

Her mother cleared . "Your dad and I have strictly forbidden you to date throughout your teenage years," she spoke in a calm, gentle voice. "Now you're grown up; it's time to let you date. Dating may help you stop dreaming about the man whom you accused of being the owner of the voice in your head."

"Dating may help me stop dreaming about the owner of my 'imaginary' voice? Sounds like I dream about him every night," Jiyeon grumbled quietly, "it doesn't make sense. I've only dreamed about him twice."

Her mother rose to feet and moved towards her. She stood behind her and placed her hands on her shoulders, giving them a little massage. "Sweetie, I won't force you to date Mrs. Kim's son. If you like him and want to date him, go ahead. If you don't like him, you don't have to date him. Are you willing to go with me?"

Jiyeon sat still as a stone for a moment, thinking. You've promised your mom you'll obey whatever she asks you to do. Let's accept the invitation as a part of your life's journey, Park Jiyeon! She nodded. "I'll go with you, Mom."

Her mother gave her a pat on the head, saying: "Now don't stay up too late." She stepped out of the room, leaving her alone.

Jiyeon sighed. "It's Saturday night; why not stay up too late?"

Running her fingers through her hair, Jiyeon rose to her feet and strode over to the bookshelves. Tapping her chin with her right index finger, she scanned over the titles. Psychiatry: The Science of Lies, Schizophrenia: The Sacred Symbol of Psychiatry, The Meaning of Mind: Language, Morality and Neuroscience, The Myth of Mental Illness. She had read all these books. She admired Dr. Thomas Szasz's works. She found his classic book The Myth of Mental Illness a very interesting read. The basic premise of his argument is that only the body can be ill, not the mind. The term "mental illness" is a metaphor.

"What's actually the medical definition of illness?" Her eyes traveled up the shelves...there! Above her head was a red, thick book, Dorland's Illustrated Medical Dictionary 32nd Edition. Jiyeon rose up on her tiptoes and picked it up. Then she returned to the chair and sat down. She opened the dictionary and flipped through the pages until she came to page 914. She tapped her finger on the word "illness" and said loudly, "Dorland's defines illness with a single word: disease."

Jiyeon flipped back the pages until she reached page 527. She tapped her finger on the word "disease" and read out loud: "dis^.ease any deviation from or interruption of the normal structure or function of a part, organ, or system of the body as manifested by charac­ter­istic symptoms and signs; the etiology, pathology, and prog­nosis may be known or unknown." She slammed the dictionary closed and placed it on the desk. "The medical concept of disease is a bodily abnormality. The mind is not the brain. The mind is not a physical entity; hence, there's no such thing as mental disease. It's really a misnomer. The problem I have with psychiatric labels is that people become attached to the label and define themselves by that label. The only reason psychiatric drugs have an effect is due to the placebo effect: people believe it will work, so it does. And the withdrawal symptoms are worse than before the person even started taking the drugs."

"The entire world of psych is a total fraud, the art of the scam. Their holy 'Bible' DSM stands for Designed to Scam Money!" the voice rang in her right ear.

"You're correct. Psychiatry is nothing but dogma." Jiyeon leaned back in the chair, propped her feet up on the desk and closed her eyes. Actually, she had no problem with people taking psychiatric drugs if it was what they wanted—their life, their choice, their responsibility, and theirs alone, not hers. She was firmly against forced psychiatric treatment. It could constitute torture. A criminal act!

She personally did not take medicines and vitamin pills, and she rarely got sick. She believed in the body's natural healing ability. Drinking a glass of plain water before going to sleep with the belief she would get better when she woke up was something she did when she got a headache. To be frank, every time she heard "authority" figures report that this food is good for you or that food is bad for you, she didn't give a . Why? She wasn't the "average" person in their study. She did not eat the same food that the people in their study ate; she did not work in the same job. Every time she heard one of so-called scientific studies touting the benefits of this or that drug, food, supplement, therapy, etc., she knew that they were talking about information that was merely statistical in nature.

Can you really do a truly scientific experiment on a human being? How can you really control all of the variables of a human life? No, you cannot. Both Biology and Medical science use statistics. Statistics are just numbers. Numbers do not lie, but numbers can be manipulated very easily. Statistics is about probability; you cannot buy one hundred percent certainty. The phrase 'statistically significant' is not a synonym for 'true' or 'important'. The term 'significant' is used to assess whether the evidence against the null hypothesis has reached the standard set by α (significance level) only. Something that is statistically significant may not be of importance in any practical sense. Statistical significance does not provide sufficient information to judge practical significance. The important thing with all statistics is unless you can see the raw data, the collection method and the workings, it is all untrustworthy. People can manipulate numbers and statistics to say just about anything they want. The truth is statistics never prove anything; statistics can only indicate correlation, not causation.

She listened to her own body instead of those "authority" figures. The reason Jiyeon didn't drink soda was: it hurt around her chest area, meaning drinking soda wasn't good for her body. She liked drinking orange juice because it tasted so delicious, and it made her body feel good. What about apples, one of the world's healthiest fruits? She didn't eat apples. She couldn't even swallow the first bite and had to spit it out; it was like her stomach refused it—she didn't get a stomach ache, just strong nausea. Well, her body didn't need apples. What about red meat that had been accused of being a nutritional no-no? She liked eating red meat because it gave her energy, made her feel strong. Her body needed it. In other words, she ate and drank what she wanted, what she liked.

Without doubt, Jiyeon chose mind over medicine. She didn't need a medical degree in order to be her own doctor. She was not against doctors, but she absolutely disliked doctors who predicted a patient's life expectancy. It seemed to her that the only reason doctors predicted life expectancy was because they knew their treatments could make the condition worse. It's true that doctors cannot predict life expectancy: it's called genetics, or Mother Nature. Doctors are not God—they are probably highly intelligent, very knowledgeable—but they are really just humans—and they don't know everything. No one knows everything. Many doctors do use scare tactics!

"Be careful who you trust, they may not be what they appear. They may lie to you. They may kill you," the voice echoed in her ear. Her eyes snapped open.

"I trust my own instincts when it comes to my best health. My body has an incredible ability to heal itself. My belief is the most powerful medicine." Jiyeon rose to her feet. "I always like to remember that the Greek word "pharmakon" has two meanings—both remedy and poison. The smell of medicine made me dizzy, anyway." Her eyes roamed around the room, as if searching for his figure. Nobody else was there.

She froze, her gaze locked straight ahead as she felt something warm and soft brush against her right cheek. Did a ghost just kiss her cheek? Fear welled up inside her. Jiyeon could hear her heart thumping inside her chest like a fluttering bird begging to be let out of its cage. Her knees grew weak, but she managed to stay standing.

"Park Jiyeon, it is merely your mind playing tricks. Ghosts cannot physically touch you—don't forget that," she told herself, attempting to neutralize her fear.

Jiyeon breathed deeply and slowly in through her nose and out through . It took more than a few deep breaths to calm her racing heart. Quickly, she left the study room, heading for her bedroom. She stepped inside, closing the door behind her. She then calmly walked over to her bed and threw herself onto it. She pulled the blanket over her head, inhaling the scent of lavender. She closed her eyes and felt her body start to relax. She allowed herself to drift off to sleep.