Today, they served us full meal for our lunch. I felt more comfortable compared to the past few days but it's slowly sinking in me that someone's going to die in three days. As days go by, I couldn't even bear to think that the man I'm spending my days and nights with is going to die in three days. I refuse to believe the reality that I brought myself into. I don't think that the way I'm feeling for him is helping me with the things that I needed to do.

For the past days, his character and the way he showed himself to me was already engraved deep in my memory. I'm struggling to look at him the eyes because I couldn't bear to think that I won't be able to see his face again. I can’t imagine walking out of this prison cell while he stays seated on the bed, waiting to be summoned for his death. I know he will smile at me and wave good bye not really bothered by the fact that it’s killing me too. And I will go home unable to go back to the life I know before I knew him.

"Why are you so quite?" Hee Chul asked while we were both sitting on our own beds.

We were able to converse really well the first few days but now I can't even push myself to speak. I also stopped bringing out my notebook to ask him questions because I don't feel like it anymore. I can't tell him either that I feel so gloomy and exhausted because the day is slowly reaching.

"Hyung, I want to try writing a poem." He stood up and sat on my side like the first time he held my hands.

"I used to write so many poems. Mostly about depression." I started telling him. "For awhile back, the people I talked to the most were all so sad. They come up to me and tell me their stories. I couldn't tell it to anybody else, of course. It's their story after all. So I write down the words then I didn't realize that I was already making poems for them." 

I try to remember the times I struggled so hard to contain all the emotions I bottled up inside. I looked at Hee Chul and his eyes were so round and bright. This was the first time that I saw it this brown and it mesmerized me even more. "I published the book and dedicated it to all the people who sought for me."

 I smiled at him and he flashed me his sad smile again. I didn’t know it was possible but I felt my heart sink in deeper.

"So, I just put sense into the words in my mind?" He was really curious and was intently looking at me. "

No, actually… you put into words the feeling you have here." I pointed on to his heart and I felt an overwhelming surge of electricity pass through my body. He nodded his head and stared at the wall. He slowly lowered his head and made my lap into his pillow. I froze, still stunned with the emotions coming at me all at once.

"I've been thinking about a three line poem. Can that be called poem?" I can't see his face now but I know that the one he has in mind is as sad as his smile; as empty as his heart.

"Of course. Even just one line can be considered as a poem." His hand was searching for something and as soon as he found my hand, he played with it.