It's been three days and they still aren't letting me in the medical center at all to see Chanyeol. They tell me it's because he just needs rest and space so he can improve his condition, but I know that's complete bull. He's getting worse. I sneak in there sometimes when the medics change shifts and new ones come in. Every time I come and see him, he seems to be getting worse and worse.

I stare at him for the second time today, his face pale, eyes closed, and skin with burns starting to form. I don't know too much about medicine or anything else about this ing storm that's going on, but I do know that if this continues, he might end up like the rest of the people who've ended up back in this room. Apparently, he's lucky to have even made it this far. I overheard a doctor say that he's developed a partial immunity to the radiation from working around the other patients for so long, which is why it's affecting him at a slower rate.

I take a good look at my boyfriend, for the third time today, and I feel sick to my stomach. For the first time in a long time, I feel a sense of utter fear and sadness, causing tears to fill in my eyes. I stare at his unconscious figure as the emotions flood through me. The moment is interrupted at the sound of the new shift of medics coming in, and I quickly sneak out and head back to my room.

I sluggishly walk towards my bed and plop into it with a sigh. I stare blankly up at the ceiling as tears threaten to spill down my face. I give up fighting my emotions and let the fear, uncertainty, confusion, and anger consume me. The tears in my eyes break through the barrier, and slowly begin spilling down my cheeks. I get lost in the feelings and thoughts that I've been pushing to the side for too long.

These past three days without Chanyeol have been hard and lonely. I always act like a tough guy; I always act like I can handle anything coming my way, but being without Chanyeol has made me realize how weak and scared I really am. I don't know what life is like without him in it. I rely on him for everything. If something happens to him, this damned routine will be the rest of my life, and I don't know if I can do it alone. And what if he changes to one of The Others? Who knows what the government will do to him? And what about everyone else? More than half of the people here are dead, and out of the survivors left, many are sick and dying. Families are living in pain, grief, and anger over the fact that nothing can save the people they love. I've been doing so well at staying calm and contained, but now I can't help but feel like everyone else.

I take a deep breath when I reach the point where I've cried everything out, and I let out another sigh. My eyes remain pasted on the blank, unchanging ceiling of our room. I close my eyes and wipe the wetness off my face before finally changing my position, turning onto my right side with my knees slightly bent, laying the way I usually do when I'm scooped up in my boyfriend's arms. I close my eyes and imagine him behind me, pretending to feel his chest pressed up behind my back and his arms squeezed tightly around my body. I pretend to feel his warm breaths in my hair at the top of my head. I imagine the mixed sound of his breathing mask and his heartbeat to the point where I can almost hear it.

My body jerks at the sudden beep of the clock (which it does every time it strikes an hour), waking my mind back up to reality. I groan and turn my body back onto my back, staring once again at the empty ceiling that represents the feelings trapped inside me. I stare for minutes, thinking and feeling absolutely nothing. A sudden headache creeps over my forehead, transforming the nothingness in my mind into thoughts that feed it. I start to reflect on everything again.

I've been having more dreams lately like the one from the other night. It's all vivid scenes of government offices, operating rooms, dying people, and The Others, yet somehow everything is still so blurred at the same time. I wake up with a throbbing headache every time it happens. Like the dream with Chanyeol, some things that I dream about seem to be coming true, or at least similar enough that its unsettling to think about. Two nights ago, I dreamt of angry protesters breaking through the entrance of the underground residencies. Yesterday, the government started allowing people to leave, due to the public's growing fear and anger of being trapped with The Others.

I sneaked onto one of the computers in the medical lab and did some research over what could be happening to me. Scientists call it precognitive dreaming, where you can see or predict the future within your dreams. No one really knows what causes it or how. I don't understand why this is happening. I don't know why it's me out of all people. Yet, for some reason I can't shake off the feeling that it's happening for a reason. In the midst of all this chaos, fear, and death, I seem to be okay, untouched from the poisonous world surrounding me. Hell, I feel like I'm the only ing person who isn't dying or turning into a ing creature. Then there's the fact that every dream seems to have some kind of meaning or connection to reality and the future. Maybe this all means something? Maybe it's a sign?

My thoughts switch back to Minseokie-hyung and Chanyeol. How he always said that he would do whatever he could to repay all that Hyung has done for us. How he would tell me that for as long as he's around, nothing will happen to me; that everything will be okay; that he'll try to do what he can to fix everything. He's always been the strong one. He's always been brave and determined to do what's right and keep his promises. Now look at him. But for some reason I'm okay? The small and weak me who relied on his boyfriend and his hyung more than he ever wanted to admit, is one of the only people who is truly okay. That has to mean something, right? 

I can't explain the sudden spike of energy running up through my body, or the adrenaline building up in my veins, or that feeling of readiness ready to spurt from inside of me, or that one thought appearing in bold letters straight in the center of my brain:

I'm going to ing fix this.