Three weeks. It's been three weeks since they parted, and Irene couldn't feel any more distressed at the moment. How could one day make her feel so bad for the last three weeks? She couldn't help but complain to herself.

This is why I don't hang out with people, she thought. She's been alone for so long that she probably become unfamiliar to the feeling of having company. And now that she got another taste of it, she wants more of it.

In the eight hours she was in bed, Irene must have woken up six times. Not for that long each time, but enough to break her sleep into not-so-refreshing chunks. Every disturbance was a new nightmare. She started having these nightmares for the first time since she lost her sense of sight, and what terrifies her the most is that these dreams did happen, although it was from the past. It was more of a haunting memory flashing before her.

On a usual night, she could snatch a few hours of shut-eye, but it was different this time. For the past few days, her head just doesn't work as it does on a daily basis. She kept trying to focus, yet it was like trying to run through water.

Irene's brain fogs up, and thoughts go nowhere at all. Sometimes she thinks it's nature's anesthesia, trying to numb the pain, to wipe out the trauma. But then there are sudden times of clarity, sudden moments when she can remember every detail and feel every feeling.

When she experienced a horror-stricken nightmare for the first time, she hoped it was a natural process she had to go through; maybe as means of wiping out the bad memories and save her from reliving them.

Only during these kind of nights that she would realize it was not that simple. Because the stronger she blocks these memories out, the more intense the flashbacks are - as if her neurons are about to lose their lives and start to wither away.

These sleepless nights, as Irene guesses, is from the distress she received upon parting with a person she knew nothing about.

Not that she wanted to blame the other person nor make up excuses. She just knew that mixing her emotions up was what triggered the whole catastrophe.

Usually by this time, she'd be too tired to think and sinks fully clothed into bed after work, but she knew she wouldn't be able to handle it with her current condition, she decided to take a break from her job.

Irene is a journalist. It's not exactly the job she dreamed of, but it was the closest pick next to what she wanted.

When she got into the field of journalism, there were merely the most basic forms of computers and mobile phones. Hence it was really tough for her. Even the access to research materials and daily newspapers as a blind person meant getting much of other colleagues' time and getting them out of their schedules to assist her.

It used to make her feel like a nuisance. But it pushed her to work harder, to start working independently and not bother anyone around her.

Getting used to her job, she eventually got the hang of it. She even learned to love and respect the art of journalism.

--

Slowly and reluctantly, Irene uncovers her face. Streaks of sunlight penetrate the window, illuminating the whole room. Irene sits up, drags her feet off the bed, and rubs her knuckles onto her eyes. Just another habit she has, hoping to have gained her eyesight naturally.

She stretches her arms above her head, and for a while, she just sits there, feeling her legs dangle above the off-white polyester carpet. She was feeling restless.

A sound abruptly echoes throughout the room. It wasn't anything new to Irene, but it wasn't something she often heard as well. Thus her surprise.

It was from a call she received. But it appears that the number was unregistered, so it was unrecognized by her voice-activated phone.

The fact that nobody aside from her co-workers call her made her nervous. She took time off from work. Who else would call her at this time of the day?

She stopped for a moment. "W-what day is it today?" The past few weeks were horror for her; she had no time to pay attention to these.

It didn't take long to check on the date, but so did the pain to reach her. Irene felt the panic begin like a cluster of spark plugs in her abdomen. Tension grew in her face and limbs; her mind replayed the last time she suffered from the same thing. Her breathing became more rapid, more shallow.

"No... It can't be."

In seconds she was curled tight in her bed. Her only movement was the trembling from her limbs as salty tears began to darken on her sleeves. She couldn't stop crying.

Without a choice, she took her phone, which was still ringing. She attempted to call for help, but made a mistake, just like any visually impaired person would have. She accidentally answered the call.

The realization of the mistake she made accelerated the thoughts inside her head. She wanted them to slow down so for her to at least breathe, but things were not working out. She unintentionally dropped he phone on the floor.

Heavy breaths came in gasps, and she felt like she would black out any second from her heart hammering inside her chest.

["Hello?"]

["Irene?"]

Irene's consciousness was floating through an empty space filled with a thick static. Throughout the inky space pounded her rapid heartbeat, echoing in her ears, alongside a fading voice from the phone.

Feelings in her body drained away... until everything went black.

--

In a dismal magnolia-colored hospital room lays Irene, matching her breathing to the beeping of the machines, the only indications of her existing lifespan. Her body was still numb, but curiosity slowly pried her eyes open. How did I get in here? She thought to her consciousness of being in a hospital.

"You're awake."

Irene's brain stuttered for a moment. That voice...

"Oh, sorry. I should have introduced myself. I'm your assigned ophthalmologist. My residency just ended, so they kind of like boss me around still. Anyway, your attending physician is not able to come to the hospital today, so they asked me to check on you for a bit---"

Cutting the doctor's introduction unfinished, the door creaked open. "Hey, they need you in the operating room right now."

"Hey? Why won't anyone address me properly? I'm a doctor---"

"It's an EMERGENCY."

"Fine! I'll see you in a bit then... Irene?" She says and leaves.

Irene is baffled by what happened. That voice... she's more than sure that it was the same person as the one she has in mind. Even the way she nagged was the same. But, if that person really was her... why?

Is it her way of acting professionally in her workplace? She even forgot to state her name. Or did she leave that part off on purpose?

She shook her head violently to get rid of her rhetorical thought. Nope. That's not what I should be thinking of right now. How did I get here? And... that phone call. Could it be?

If Irene had something to fear, it would be none other than the person who brought her to her current state. It happened that this very day was her father's last day in prison.

Regardless of the pain Irene had gone through, her father was only given six years to make up for it. And the six-year sentence had come to an end.

Even Irene cannot understand why he only had to go through that... after bringing her own child eternal pain. Let that be physical and emotional. Her suffering was nothing different from falling into the pits of hell, but her father only had to move to another room.

Minutes after falling into deep painful thoughts, the same doctor from a while ago entered the room. Her cat-like eyes stared at Irene before sitting at the bedside.

"It's me."

It was the same person, but her tone was much friendlier and warmer this time. It's similar to the one Irene knew of. Excitement comes to Irene's spark plugs, roaring her engines into the purr of anticipation.

"Sai!?"

"Mmm..." The doctor nods.

"I knew it! You did that earlier on purpose to sound professional. Right?"

"Sort of? I'm... sorry if I sounded... indifferent, somehow." Guilt hints from her voice.

"I understand." Irene smiled for the first time since she parted ways with this so-called friend.

" Anyway, I forgot to introduce myself properly earlier. You can call me Seulgi from now on. That is if you want to."

Irene's inner sunshine brightened up. After weeks of curiosity, finally! "Seulgi..." She whispers.

The two of them started to talk more about themselves. This time, it was Seulgi's turn to start filling up Irene's inquiring mind. She had talked about things such as her dreams and how she got to where she is right now. But one thing was still bothering Irene.

"You... Were you the one to get me here?"

"Y-yeah. I... got your contact information from the f-flower farm. I called you, thinking maybe I should return your clothes, which you left in my car from last time. But you weren't answering for so long. The moment you picked up my call, I heard nothing but gasps from heavy breathing."

"It was... y-you who called?"

"Yeah... I also got your address there. But... what happened? I mean... why---"

"You said your residency had ended, right? That means you can perform surgery now." Irene cuts her off.

"Yes?"

"Seulgi... I want to trust you one last time.  I'll have that surgery I should have had years ago."

Seulgi couldn't help but from to Irene's enthusiasm. "All of the sudden?"

"Yes. All of the sudden."