Arbutus

“Thee, only do I love. . . “

The hospital was silent, dead silent. A dark silhouette appeared beside the doorway clinging to a small flower. The silhouette’s head was set straight as if hesitating to enter the room. After a long moment of debating, the figure entered the room slowly, stopping at the foot of the bed. In it laid a boy, fast asleep.

He mumbled incoherent words, tossing and turning in an unwanted nightmare. He repeatedly whispered a single name, each time becoming less hysterical. As his breathing stilled and the mumbling ceased, the stature placed a cluster of pink and white petals strewn on a vine-like stem into his open hand. The figure gradually backed away from the bed, exiting the room, but not before giving the boy one last longing glance.

“I’ll be back, Minho. I promise.”

When the figure’s presence disappeared, the boy unconsciously tightened his grip on the flower; feeling like something of great significance had left his life for good.

Minho woke up gasping for breath and clutching his chest. His heart was beating at an uncomfortable rate. While grasping his chest he noticed a drop of liquid fall onto his hospital gown. He opened his hands revealing a crushed flower. His breathing slowed back to a normal tempo, leaving him to ponder on the whereabouts of this flower. His head pounded with pain as he tried to recollect his thoughts. Doctors and nurses rushed into the room, pushing carts of syringes, blood samples, and surgical instruments. Minho rested quietly on the cot, as they took numerous blood samples. He nodded and shook his head when they rapidly fired questions at him. Commotion in the room slowed to a halt a few minutes later, leaving only Minho and his doctor alone.

“What’s going on? Why am I here?”

The awkward silence made Minho nervous, so many questions were buzzing through his head. And he didn’t have an answer to any of them.

“I’ll try to help you as best as I can,” the doctor reassured him. “Just need to take one more test, look here.”

Minho nodded solemnly, doing as he was told.

What was going on? How did he get here? What the hell happened? Taking his first glance into the bright light, something flashed through his forgotten memories. The images were flying by so quickly, Minho barely had any time to comprehend them. He screamed in pain, dropping to the floor beside the cot, gripping his head between his hands. The pain was excruciating, but what was worse were the same dreadful images passing before his eyes.

Nurses were rushing into the room, attempting to help him up, but he continued to convulse on the ground, eyes dilated, and thoroughly shaken. Minho let out another shrill yelp of pain, before nurses rushed in tugging him back onto the cot and pinning him down. The same image burned itself into his mind. A gun, a scream of pain, the smiling face of a girl, and then darkness. . .

 Whispers engulfed the room, doctors and nurses unable to keep their eyes away from the strange patient.

“I think he’ll be alright. Let’s leave him be.”

He ushered them out of the room, sighing, and shutting the door with a soft click.

Minho kept his eyes closed, concentrating on steadying his breathing. The drumming in his head wouldn’t let up. He tried to remember a memory, any memory. Nothing.

“What’s wrong with me!?” Minho yelled out in angst.

Suddenly a smiling girl appeared in his head. She was so . . . beautiful. But just as fast as the memory came, it faded away.

“No, please don’t leave, please!”

The memory was gone. Minho tried to hold back the tears that were so close to falling.

‘Get yourself together. If you want to know the truth, you have to pull yourself together.’

No matter what he told himself, he couldn’t stop himself from anxiously fiddling, he couldn’t sit still. He had asked several nurses about the situation but none could help him.

“Give this to him, it should calm him down.”

Minho felt a sharp prick in his arm. He turned to stare at the nurse injecting a needle into his arm.

“Minho,” said the doctor as his eyelids turned heavy. “Have a good rest.”

With that, Minho’s eyes snapped shut.

Minho woke up to see a girl caressing his hand. He instinctively jerked his hand away. She looked innocent, but that was just about it. Something about her was off, that look in her eyes was psychotic, definitely not innocent.

“Minho, are you alright?”

She reached out to touch his face but he simply pushed her hands away.

“Don’t touch me! Who are you?”

“I’m your girlfriend. Don’t you remember?” she asked, smiling coyly.

Minho recalled a girl from his memories. However, this couldn’t be her. Her smile was all wrong. She attempted another advance but her hastily pressed the red call button on his bed. Before the girl could do anything further, nurses swarmed to his side.

“Feeling better, already, Minho?”

They led the young girl away, recording his blood pressure and checking on his heart beat.

“Um . . . excuse me, who is that girl?” he asked an older nurse taking his blood sample.

She pursed her lips into a thin line, staying behind after everyone else had left.

“We’re not sure. She came in this morning asking for you.”

“Is she really my girlfriend?”

Minho fidgeted nervously in the cot. The elder seemed just as confused as he was.

“Minho,” she sighed. “Truthfully the doctors and I were baffled with your case. We don’t know where you came from, or who your family is, and we certainly do not have any information about your past.”

Minho groaned in aggravation, slamming a fist into the metal sidebars.

“But,” she continued, ignoring his tantrum, “we do know someone reported shots being fired and that’s why you’re here. Those nice folk brought you here. You had a gash right here.”

She traced her finger along the stitches situated in a crooked line from the top of his right ear to the center of his scalp.

“You were losing a lot of blood too. And I believe there was a girl.”

Minho’s eyes flickered with hope. He sat up straight, grabbing on to her shoulders.

“Where is she?”

The nurse shook her head, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“She’s dead.”

Minho was left speechless, her words echoing in his head.

Dead.

“That’s impossible! Look,” he said desperately.

He reached under his pillow to retrieve the crushed arbutus.

“She gave this to me, I’m sure of it.”

“Minho, I’m sure you’re exhausted. You have to get some sleep. That girl was pronounced dead. She couldn’t have given that to you.”

Minho stared after her in shock.

“I’m telling you the truth!”

He yanked off the needle in his arm, following after her. His legs wobbled slightly since it had been awhile since he last stood on his own. He stepped out of his room for the first time. Everything was white; it blinded his eyes for a few seconds. He took off running in the direction the nurse had left.

“Wait!”

Heads snapped to look at him. As soon as they did, there was a surge of panic through the place.

“Get him back into his room! He’s not stable!”

Minho felt himself being tackled to the cold tile floor, the hands of several men grasping his arms and legs.

“Let go! Let go!”

Minho thrashed about, flailing his body, but their grip didn’t loosen. He felt a prick in his arm and turned his head to see another needle. A tear escaped from his eye.

“Where am I? Why are you doing this?”

“It’s for your own good, Minho-sshi.”

The last thing Minho saw was the sign hanging from the wall in front of him.

Pyongtaek M.I.

Medical Institution?

One Month Ago

Minho chuckled alongside his girlfriend, their laughter louder than the radio blaring from the car speakers. School finals had just ended and the couple found themselves taking a spontaneous vacation. Miyoung slipped her seatbelt off to reach behind her, a golden flower pendant hanging off her neck, a present from Minho on their one year anniversary. She lifted a small-sized cooler into her lap and happily emptied its contents, forgetting to snap her seatbelt back on. Minho looked over, taking his eyes off the road, and reaching over to take a sandwich from her hands.

“Oppa!”

Miyoung giggled, pulling it away from his grip and putting it into her own mouth. He turned back to the road, pretending to not be bothered by her actions. Miyoung leaned over the elbow rest, offering him a bite. Minho bit into the sandwich, chewing, then swallowing the tasty food. Satisfied, he kissed her cheek as thanks.

“Can you believe it, oppa? After tomorrow we’ll be graduating high school. I have everything planned out!”

“And what are your future plans,” Minho chided, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“You know, college, buying my own apartment, getting married, having kids—“

 “Do your future plans include me?”

Miyoung smiled to herself before looking at Minho. He was nervously waiting for her answer, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel and avoiding her gaze at all cost. Since a minute had passed, and no answer had been provided he assumed the worse.

‘That was so stupid! Why would she want to marry me? Why am I even thinking about marriage?’ Minho thought to himself angrily.

Miyoung observed him through the side mirror, chuckling to herself. He could be too cute sometimes. She entwined their fingers again, gently squeezing his hand in reassurance. Minho sighed, squeezing her hand back. Everything was okay, for now.

“Minho, watch out!”

Acting on pure reflex, Minho swerved to the right, stomping on the breaks. Without her seatbelt to protect her, Miyoung was heavily pressed into her seat. She let out a terrified scream as the car suddenly stopped. Her side slammed into the car door, her head knocking against the glass window. When the car finally stopped moving, Minho was having difficulty breathing. The events that had just occurred were still a jumbled mess in his mind. What was going on?

One glance at Miyoung and he knew she wasn’t alright, bright red fluid was running down her pale cheeks from a gash on the top of her head. She must’ve hit her head hard. Minho yanked his seatbelt off, furiously exiting his car.

“What the hell?! You can’t just stand in the middle of the road like that. Someone might— oh. Mi Sun? Is that you?”

Minho stared in shock at his ex-girlfriend. He thought she’d been safely locked away at a federal psychiatric ward.

“Oh, Minho. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you. You’ve grown quite a bit. Tell me, where’s that sister of mine. You know, the one that stole you from me?”

Minho winced at her words.

“She didn’t steal me, Mi Sun. You broke my heart and she was there to fix it, end of story.”

“Shut up!” she roared back.

In a blind fit of rage, she managed to reach into her coat pocket to reveal a shiny black revolver. She opened the gun’s barrel to reveal a full six rounds of bullets. She psychotically smirked, cocking the weapon and pointing it at Minho.

“Anything else you’d like to say?”

Minho opened his mouth to speak when the sound of a car door unlocking rang through his ears.

Miyoung . . .

He pivoted his body to face the silver Toyota, watching in horror as his girlfriend stumbled out. She clutched her head in between her hands.

“Minho-oppa!”

He sprinted to her side, just in time to support her. She smiled weakly at him.

“You’re okay,” she whispered.

“Stay here,” Minho warned.

His gaze flickered from Miyoung to her older sister. How did they get here? Minho pushed Miyoung back into the car, protectively standing in front of her door. He gestured for her to take the wheel but Miyoung simply shook her head. Although Miyoung knew this was a life or death situation, she couldn’t leave him to fend for himself.

Her sister  was receiving treatment at a mental institution— somewhere in Pyongtaek. How she was able to escape, she would never know. Miyoung struggled to hear what Minho and Mi Sun were saying, she could only see their mouths moving. They were having another argument.

Miyoung tensed in her seat as Mi Sun lifted her gun again, threatening to fire the contraption. Her eyes were smoldering with a fire Miyoung had seen before, the same psychotic look her sister had given her parents before she murdered them.

Miyoung her car door open with a force that sent Minho, who had been leaning on the door, down a rocky hill, located just beside the highway. Minho didn’t have time to process what had happened, he had already been sent reeling down the hill. His body turned every so often so that he could see the events above him unfold. Althought they were just angry blurs, he could make out the sounds each person made.

“You’re in my way again, Miyoung. I might just have to kill you off, like our parents.”

“Leave Minho alone!”

“Poor, naïve, Miyoung,” Mi Sun taunted.

Minho finally reached the bottom of the hill, his body sprawled in a tangled heap. He lifted himself off the ground in an attempt to climb back up. But his knees collapsed below him, from the intense fall. As his eyes began to shut he found himself staring up at the two sisters. He blinked the tears from his eyes away, as he heard the gunshot.

“Miyoung!”

Minho shot up from his cot, forehead coated in sweat that drenched the tips of his hospital gown.

He remembered.

As he gazed at the door, his eyes zeroed in on the figure lying by his side.

‘Miyoung?’ he thought.

“Oppa!”

The girl reached out to hug him, all the while smiling genuinely as he awoke.

“I knew you wouldn’t leave me.”

Minho stared at her quizzically. She looked exactly like Miyoung, but the nurse had said she’d died. . . was that just a nightmare?

“It’s me, oppa. Your Miyoung.”

She leaned in to plant a kiss on his lips.

“Mi Sun won’t bother us anymore. She’s gone.”

Minho nodded, dazed by her sudden appearance. This time, he leaned over to kiss her. He sighed as relief washed over him. He’d just been dreaming before. Miyoung was a strong girl, she wouldn’t have let her sister kill her that easily.

A few weeks later Minho finally received the go ahead to get back up on his feet. He took regular walks around the building, a nurse and Miyoung always at his side. Doctors and nurses stared warily at him, almost as if they were afraid, but he shrugged the feeling off. As long as Miyoung was with him, he’d be alright.

He couldn’t help but notice that nagging feeling in the back of his head though. Whatever happened to Mi Sun?

“Hey, are you alright? You were spacing out again,” Miyoung asked him, concerned.

“Uh, yeah. Just thinking.”

Minho smiled, taking her hand. He smoothly pulled her closer to kiss her lips. Miyoung giggled as he pulled away.

“What?”

“Nothing, you’re just . . . never mind. Let’s go.”

The couple headed back into the closed doors of Pyongtaek M.I. As Minho stepped through the doors, he noticed the same flower from his dream laying on the ground. Odd. He tossed the decaying flower into the nearest trashbin and chased after Miyoung who was already halfway to the cafeteria.

As Minho disappeared around the corner, a ghostly silhouette reached out to catch the decaying arbutus. She stared at the corner, tears making their way down her cheeks. She held the flower tightly to her chest, wishing she could call out to him, tell him the truth. But she couldn’t, she was just a ghost. Left to aimlessly wander the halls until her purpose had been fulfilled. No one could see her, nor feel her. It was like she didn’t even exist.

“Thee only do I love. I won’t forget you Minho,” she whispered, her voice blending in with the warm breeze floating through the window.

She paused at a covered cot. The sheet laying over the dead figure billowed from the air vent blowing to its right. The air blew hard enough for the sheet to eventually fall to the side, revealing the dead corpse. Blood still lingered on her head from an injury sustained during a car accident, and a gunshot wound pierced her chest.

The silhouette reached to the corpse’s neck to touch a golden flower pendant that remained attached to the dead woman. Even in death, it was still precious, a gift from her boyfriend. She glanced behind her before exiting through the automated doors of the building. Her eyes lingered on the sign that marked its significance.

Pyongtaek M.I.

Mental Institution.

Please be cautious of our patients. Some suffer from only mild cases of paranoia, while others remain lost in their own world, imagining things that do NOT exist. Be warned, some patients are so attuned to their fake world they will get rid of anyone who tries to disrupt it’s balance.

ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK.

Number of Seeds Replanted: 1 of 20