Beep. Beep. Beep.

        What was that? Through a thick, disoriented haze, Yesung could hear a faint, faraway sound of beeping. He wondered what it meant. Because everything, no matter how simple or strange, meant something. He remembered vaguely that such sounds were used to tell you something. Alarms. What was this one telling him though? Was he supposed to wake up? Was he supposed to go somewhere? Yesung wasn't sure. His mind struggled to hold on to fleeting thoughts and dream like memories, only to lose them as quickly as he caught them. Perhaps it was just to alert him of his being. He existed. But why would you need an alarm like that? Yesung mused. Was his existence something trivial?

       Beep. Beep. Beep.

       Yesung was floating in his familiar dark, hazy consciousness when the noise reached his ears for the second time. He could barely hear it, but it was there. Yesung felt slightly irritated with the mysterious beeping. He wished it would stop. The sound reminded Yesung he was forgetting something he was supposed to be doing, and that something was very important. No matter how hard he tried however, Yesung couldn't remember. He was left frustrated and tired, with his sense of urgency rising slowly. He tried to move, get up, but found it was another thing he couldn't do. Fear and confusion overtook him as his consciousness slipped away.

       Beep. Beep. Beep.

       Time was passing. Yesung wasn't sure in what amount, but for some unexplainable reason, he knew it was moving past him. It could have been simply a second, or it could have been a number of years, but it was. It existed, vaguely like himself. It hung in the space between reality and dreams, and Yesung hung with it. Together, they swung between the two sides of existence like a pendulum, and as Yesung swung, he wondered if he would also be as endless as time. Perhaps he was simply to go on as he was forever; swinging, existing, beeping, but something deep inside him told him it was wrong. He was missing something, and with that, the pendulum came to a stop.

       Beep. Beep. Beep.

       Yesung passed his time searching for the reason to his unsettling, empty feeling that tugged at his every thought. The beeping noise was put to the back of his mind as he tried to grasp the memories that evaded him. They floated through his fingers like vapor and teased at the edges of his mind. As Yesung searched and d clumsily, he wondered if there was really even an answer. Perhaps the feeling was all just an illusion his mind had created to give him purpose, because without purpose, Yesung would cease to exist. Without purpose, he would simply fade into nothingness that surrounded him.

       Beep. Beep. Beep.

       Yesung searched. Memories, feelings, slowly came back to him as he looked. He saw his life play out in his mind in bright colors and sharp clarity. He remembered collecting bugs, running around on the playground, taking care of his pet turtle. Soon, the more he remembered, the faster his memories came, hitting him in waves that threatened to overwhelm and crush him. He was dimly aware in his shock of the soft beeping becoming faster and louder. Faces of the people in his life flashed by quickly; his parents, his relatives, his high school friends. The faces came even faster and faster until suddenly it came to a halt, and only one person remained, suspended.

      Beep. Beep. Bee-

       Yesung had a choice. As the face disappeared, as he floated back into the darkness, as the beeping came to a stop, Yesung knew he had to make a decision. He stood at a ledge, and he could either turn back to where he had come from, or jump and fall. Yesung hesitated, he didn’t have much time. He peered down the ledge, remembering how when he was little, he had always wanted to fly. He took a small step forward, curiosity and temptation overcoming him. Yesung was about to take another step when he thought he heard a distant voice call out to him, and he remembered the last person that was shown to him. The voice slowly became louder and louder, calling desperately to him. Yesung sighed, sadness and want overtook him. Yesung wanted to turn back but he knew, in the end, this wasn’t about him; his being, his existence. This was something much, much bigger than himself, and with that thought, Yesung let himself fall.