Three.
Sad Face on Blue

~ · ~ · ~

“What’s on your mind?” Minseok asks me as we sit in my room. It’s a spacious white with a tinge of color here and there — from the vase, the view outside, but that’s it. There’s a painting hanging over my bed. If you look closely, they’re just random short . But if you pull your head back and see it from a certain distance, you’ll see a sad face over a field of blue.

“There’s a sad face on my painting,” I tell him and he nods. He stands beside me and watches the painting as we stand by the foot of my bed. He’s staring just as intently as I am as if it’s the first time he’s seeing it. I bet it isn’t but he holds on to it throughout. “Can you see it?”

“Yes,” he says then goes back to the lounge chair by my bed.

My room is like a goshiwon albeit a bit bigger. It fits a decent desk and a shelf over it. There are books around that I don’t have a single ounce of interest with. There’s a window by my bed that flushes the light right in. When you look out, you see the field where some participants are mingling. There are people playing chess. Some, playing ball. I’m a few floors up on the 6th. But there’s a thin metal mesh sheet over the window to keep me from leaning forward at all.

“They put that in for your safety,” Minseok tells me and I just nod. “They wanted to use bars before but they felt like a prison so they opted for a wire mesh.”

If you turn around from facing the window, there’s a small table with fresh flowers in a vase. I know they just put in the flowers there because the color is bright. If it’s not fresh then it must be fake. I touch it just to make sure. It is real. I flick the vase to see if it can be broken and Minseok chuckles.

“That won’t break. I won’t tell you who supplied these vases but they’re damn robust.”

I sit at the edge of my bed and Minseok takes a deep breath.

“Anything else you want to check?”

I shake my head and swing my feet. They’re not touching the floor as I sit; makes you feel small.

“I’ve got news,” Minseok says and I look up at him from staring at my feet, still attempting to touch the ground. “It’s quite important that you learn about this because your life literally depends on this.”

I don’t understand.

“We can’t just take people’s lives just because they applied for the program. We take this thing seriously here,” he smiles when he says that and I just feel like I have to smile back. So I do. “I’m a licensed psychotherapist and psychometrician. Dr. Kim himself has a background in psychiatry and designed the program himself.”

I just watch Minseok. Again, lost in his big, bright eyes.

“I’ve undergone rigid training to master the program and it starts the moment you step in the vicinity of the building. It’s a mixture of your social interactions, introspections, behavior, actions and reactions, and a whole lot more. We even evaluate the way you look the moment you get off the bus. It’s all part of it.”

And so I’ve proven myself right. I am being watched.

“But it’s all for good reason,” he says as if he’s just read my mind. “We don’t want to take something away from you just like that.” Minseok snaps and breaks me from looking at him. “We want what’s best for you and if the evaluations tell us you’re fit to live in the world out there, we’re going to work hard to help you get through your demons and live on.”

“So, I may not be dead after six months?”

Minseok smiles. “No one is really ever dead after six months here. We say ‘live on’ because you will continue to live, only as a part of someone else. But I understand what you’re trying to say. And no, Kyungsoo, it’s uncertain whether or not you can or will participate in the last stage of the program.”

“If I won’t die then won’t that defeat the purpose of why I came here in the first place?”

“Is that the reason you came here? To die?” He says it but it lands on me like a petal falling from the flower. It gently falls on the back of my hand and gets blown away by the wind. I smile.

“Yes.”

Minseok nods. “People have different reasons for coming here, even if you’re all labeled as either Donor or Donee. Some Donors come here to run away from their lives. Others want answers about what life is and what it means to truly live.” Minseok pauses but he keeps staring at me.

“Then there are people like you. I get this a lot. You came here to die like you’re resolute about the decision you made. To you, this is the ledge and it’s a long way down but you jump. But I’m sorry Kyungsoo. It’s impossible for me to just let you jump in front of a moving train like that. I see something that can be fixed, I fix it.”

“What do you see in me?” I sway my feet, slower. “Can I be fixed?”

Minseok nods. “Everyone can be. Some people just need certain attention to help them navigate through life but that’s what we’re here for. We don’t give up on people. We help them reach a decision. If, in the end, you still want to do it — or if we actually let you do it — then so be it. The rest of your life, for yourself, might cease but your existence persists. On the other hand, if you do change your mind, we’ll let you step out of this place. No one will force you to stay if we’re sure you are ready to go out there again.”

“Have you fixed people before?”

“Oh, I did.” Minseok smiles. “VITA works hard on that part. It’s the reason I’m with you right now.”

I stare and he smiles before pulling up the sleeves of his white uniform. On his forearm is a long scar that looks like a big cocoon. The scar stretches a few inches from his wrist. It’s a little pink but the edges are a bit purplish.

“You see, people like us, came here with almost an uncompromising mindset that all suffering ends with the last breath or the last pump of blood in our hearts. We’re so sure it’s the end of the line. Then we find truth in ourselves throughout the journey.” Minseok pushes his sleeves back to position and smiles. “My truth may be different from yours, but I’ll be here with you as you search for it.”

“You will?” I ask him as he gets up.

“I will. I promise,” Minseok grabs the knob as he responds. He takes one last look at me then at the cabinet at the corner of the room. Then, he’s out of the door.

I open the cabinet and find every single content of my backpack, neatly arranged inside with what appears to be a beeper on top of my neatly folded clothes. The note underneath the beeper says 444 in a huge serif font. When I flip it there are a bunch of numbers and their meanings printed with the same font. Then there’s one combination at the end, written by hand.

000 WHENEVER YOU’RE READY

I take a deep breath and grab the beeper. I keep the cheat sheet on the back pocket of my jeans before stepping out of my room. It clicks behind me and I walk on to wherever my feet take me this time — something I haven’t done in quite a long while.