“Happy birthday, Heebin. I’m sorry I won’t make it today. But we’ll celebrate our birthday tomorrow, yes? Have a good day. I love you.”

Bleep.

“Happy birthday Heebin dear. I’m here in Australia right now. I will be coming back soon. Take care dear, I love you!”

I pressthe button again. Bleep.

“Saengil chukhaeyo, Heebin-ssi!”

Bleep.

“Heebin-ah! Saengil chukhae!”

Bleep.

“Heebin? Where are you? I haven’t heard from you. Where are you? didn’t we agree to meet up today to celebrate? Please answer.”

The last voice mail comes from Bunhong. I’m lying face-down on my bed, with a pillow under me, as I listen to the few voice messages I have received over the course of few days. It had been a week now since the last time I saw him. I did not go to school after that, practically wasted my birthday, and did the greatest thing I could ever do to my best friend—ditch her birthday celebration. My room is the perfect example of chaos; all around me there are glass shards, with scatters and scatters of pills from my supply. The last time I remember getting up from this bed was three days ago. I did nothing but cry myself to sleep, then when in the middle of it when my nightmares come, I would awake, only to sob again and when my energy runs out I sleep again. The specters I see around the house are getting more and more now. I’m hearing voices, tapping sounds, crying sounds that are aside from mine. I try to parry them by covering my ears and screaming, hoping that my voice would cover theirs But no. nothing happens. They show up and disappear again, and I know, they’re here in my room right now—here, at this very moment.

Aside from my room, I myself am a living mess. I’m pretty sure I smell like dumpster now; since the only bath I have been rewarding myself with are my tears washing my cheeks. My hair is a mess. I am a mess.

And there’s only one person that I blame for this.

That was the last. That was how our goodbye went. And he dumped me on the spot. I can’t like him? What the hell? Who does he think he is to say that? I know I’ve only met him for days, and I myself am disgusted with me, but it hurts—it really, really hurts. And I feel like I would never see him again. I feel like he was taken away or something.

Presently I hear a knocking on my window, and I hurriedly scurry under the covers. Whoever that is, I don’t want to be seen. As I cover myself with my blanket, breathing stale air, I feel something pulling the sheet and when I look down, it’s a lady ghost again. She looks at me with this undeniably horrifying look, and shakily turns her head to the direction of the window.

Dammit, even ghosts want me to get out of here?

“Heebin?” I hear the tapping get more rapid and louder, and I recognize the voice. Bunhong. No. She’s the least person I want to see right now. Especially from my current state. “Heebin? Heebin!” after a while the tapping dies down, and the next thing that happens is the ringing of my phone. It’s loud, really loud, that I know that the person outside definitely hears it. In pathetic attempts I cover my phone, but the sound had already resonated and had been heard. Too late. “Heebin, I know you’re there. Open up,”

Finally, with a groan, I rise out of my bed and open my window, and my best friend cli