(Song: Bon Iver - "I Can't Make You Love Me")

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“Turn down the lights, turn down the bed, turn down these voices, inside my head.

Lay down with me, tell me no lies. Just hold me close, don’t patronize me.”

 

 

I am restless even in my sleep.

 

And I can’t find the reason for that. Probably because of work. That’s what I tell Irene every time she asks.

 

 

I am a forensic artist. I am observant, to observe is what I do. I am good at, or I have been trained, or I make a living by, re-creating human faces as accurate as possible. I listen to how witnesses describe a suspect, or, I simulate and infer people’s face from some basic information. That’s why I have to be observant and precise.

 

Not only doing composites of people depicted, my job also includes conducting age progression of missing persons, facial approximation from unidentified human skulls, and even postmortems for unidentified people from the morgue. It’s not that pleasant and sometimes, it's pretty awful.

 

But having been in this field for a few years, I would like to think that I am already being to decompositions, bullet wounds, broken bones, skulls, and of course, death.

 

 

Maybe I have overworked my brain so it can't rest even when I am asleep. Maybe facial anatomy and forensic anthropology are my forte, my obsession. Maybe that's why I have a really beautiful girlfriend.

 

I still remember the first time I saw her. She was the witness of a bank robbery and I was assigned to sketch the suspects according to her statement. There were 3 suspects, so we spent almost the whole day together.

 

I was focused on my job as usual, but I could not help looking at her face. She has nice features. Her skin is fair. I sketched her in my brain. She seemed to be very interested in my job too. Or me, since we got together soon after.

 

 

She is always worried about me because of my job. I don’t know if she is afraid that I will be psychically or mentally damaged.

 

But also thanks to her, I have found my bright happy self. I am happy that I have met her.

 

 

She once asked me to draw her. I rejected. And she understood.

 

People I have drawn usually do not have a nice ending.

 

 

In order to reassure her, I tend not to bring up things about my work when I am with her. She lives and wants a simple life. So I am tying my best to cater. I think she knows.

 

We don’t often meet or date. We mostly meet at home. It sounds awkwardly ridiculous since it is something only married couples would do. And we have just dated more than 2 years.

 

 

I don’t know if we have already lost the spark, chemistry or what. Or even, perhaps, we never have those.

 

We were both looking for a shelter and we found each other, thanks to the robbery nonetheless.

 

 

I open my eyes and I can’t feel her beside me. So I reach out to her and she isn’t there.

 

“I-Irene?” “Joohyun-ah?”

 

No reply. Only my weak voice echoing. I can’t believe our house is this big or it’s just too empty when she’s not around.

 

 

I sit up a little, trying to adjust to the darkness. Where is she? It’s not the first time she is out all night or comes home really late. It would be pretty normal for me to doubt whether she is seeing someone else.

 

But I didn't. It isn’t that I think she’s not up to something. I am too tired to ask. If that makes her happier or she needs the time and space, I am okay with that.

 

 

And it’s so dark that I can barely see. I turn on the table lamp on the nightstand.

 

It’s not even my room.

 

 

“You’re awake.” I heard a man speaking to me, but I can’t see him.

 

“Who are you? And where am I?” I then heard my voice shaking.

 

 

It doesn’t make any sense. I remember coming back home, eating some takeaway for dinner, watching random tv shows, showering, and lying on the empty bed alone. An ordinary day.

 

“You don’t remember anything?” A man, who seems to be in his 30s, appears as he speaks. The suit he is wearing looks tailor-made, hair is nicely combed, seems somewhat Caucasian. The jawline stands out the most at first glance.

 

 

I assume it is not some typical kidnapping.  “I don’t. Answer my questions first.”

 

He smiles,  “Wendy, listen carefully. I cannot tell you who I am. But I can tell you what happened.”

 

“How do you know my name?” I swear I frowned.

 

The man then picks up the suitcase by his feet and takes out a thick old book. Elegantly flipping it open, he reads, “Wendy Son Seungwan. 25 years old. Died in 2015.” 

 

 

“What? Am I dead? H-How? You must be kidding me.” I jump up from my seat and confront him.

 

“Read it yourself.” He shrugs before handing me the book. I blow some dust off so that I can read more clearly.

 

 

“There was a fire in the Central Police Department, during the evening where most people were off guard. It started from the evidence room. The culprit is Officer Kwon. He was bribed to destroy the evidence for the homicide case of the Mayor’s daughter. 

 

Wendy got out in time from the forensic lab but most of the policemen were trapped as Kwon accidentally locked all the exits before he himself fled from the scene.”

 

Some also returned to open the doors but died in the process. Including Lieutenant Choi, Officer Park…….

 

And Wendy’s body is never found.”

 

 

“It’s two days ago. Which means you have been missed for 2 days, within the ashes and remains of the building. And people have assumed you dead.” He timely adds. “Your soul is lost and wandering. But you don’t belong there. That’s why you woke up here.”

 

So if I am not mistaken, this is a full record of my life I am reading right now and that is just the last page. I flip to the front and of course there are more to read.

 

“Why I don’t have any memory of this? Apart from how I died?” I point at a certain paragraph, which is something fairly recent yet I have no idea that it had ever happened.

 

He takes a brief glance, “Well, I don’t know how it exactly works. I have never lived anyway. But my guess is when people died unwillingly or accidentally, they lost memories of their unpleasant past, not only their deaths. They continue living the lives they chose.”

 

 

It surely hurts my head. And I feel some pictures flashed through the back of my head, but again, I can’t see them clearly. Perhaps it did happen. It is not just in my dreams when I was still alive. It is true. It has been haunting me in my dreams, my nightmare.

 

It could be the reason I have been restless.

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

I opened my eyes and soon found Irene tiptoeing into the bedroom.

 

Having noticed that she had woken me up, she turned to me and smiled apologetically.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“Where have you been?” 

 

 

“I was out with my colleagues. It’s Yuri’s birthday.” She explained as she was standing where she was. She didn’t come closer, I guess it’s because she didn’t want me to smell the alcohol.

 

“We haven’t seen each other much lately, you know?” I just shrugged and hugged my knees. Perhaps I knew I would get hurt and I was getting myself prepared.

 

 

“I’m sorry.” And she was still standing there.

 

“Stop apologizing. Just tell me what is in your mind.” I could see her eyes shone under the dim light. I felt bad pushing her to talk, but I had to know.

 

“Do you love me?”  She asked in a low, hushed voice. She seldom did so.

 

“Of course, I do.”

 

 

I know I love her because it hurts.

 

She dropped her purse on the floor and pulled me into her arms. I could smell the alcohol, I could hear her shaky breath.

 

 

“I’m sorry, Seungwan.”

 

That’s exactly when I knew she does not, or did not, love me.

 

 

“I close my eyes, then I won't see, the love you don't feel when you're holding me.”

 

 

She sounded like she is dead.

 

Now I am the one who is dead. Ha. What could I do now, except laugh a little?

 

 

I was so hurt that I chose to forget it at my death.

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

Now I remember.

 

I could not reach her that day. She did not answer any of her calls. Still, I expected that because I picked a fight with her the day before. 

 

Well, I could not stand our distancing relationship and I lost my cool that night. But I just wanted to talk things out and have a decent lunch with her. I forgot when is the last time we had a meal together. I got frustrated.

 

 

I saw the smoke and I ran. I stopped because there were dozens of good police officers and civilians trapped in fire and smoke. I wanted to do some good since I had messed up so many things in my life, as well as in hers. 

 

At least if I can, I wanted to save lives.

 

So I joined the rest and tried to break the door.

 

 

I remember we had the door opened before I lost consciousness.

 

I wonder how would she feel. Maybe...... some sort of relief? Would she cry and mourn for me?

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

Closing up the book after all the reading, I look up and see him waiting ever so patiently. “Can I……. go back?”

 

“That’s what I am going to talk about.” He laughs softly as he fishes out another book. “You should not die, Wendy Son. So you must go back.”

 

“Why? And how?” I try to read his eyes but they are too deep to see anything.

 

“You have to bring justice for yourself. Then you can have your life back.”

 

 

I return him his book, “You mean I can live again?” 

 

He simply nods.

 

 

Is it worth doing so? Do I want to live? Should I just let it go and let myself die?

 

Do I have a reason to live?

 

 

And it seems he manages to read me first, “You want to see her first. Bae Joohyun, Irene.”

 

I smile for the first time today, “Yes.”

 

 

He stares at the books on his hands, “Well, you can go back and see her. And she can see you too. For you can control a lot of things back in the world of the living. We are ghosts, remember? Basically, you can reveal yourself whenever you want, walk through walls, fly…… You have 24 hours to decide if you are taking the deal or not. But I have to warn you here and now — if you are not back by then, your soul would vanish.”

 

I patiently listen and raise one important question, “Interesting. What is the deal then?”

 

“Take a life and make things right again in your life, such as Kwon’s. An eye for an eye, blood calls for blood.” Nonchalantly, he fixes his collar. “Then you can have yours back.”

 

 

Murders, blood, avenging do not sound that alien to me. I have seen even more terrible things.

 

“What if I didn't die because of him?” I just think of something disturbing.

 

He seems surprised though his tone is calm, “If not, then who and what took your life?” 

 

 

“Maybe I killed myself. I lost the will to live. I lost the will to escape, to struggle. Maybe…… Maybe it's Irene.” Never had I imagined that there would be a day where my life would be concluded in such a miserable way. I used to think I lived my life to the fullest, how näive.

 

“Would you kill Irene then?” 

 

 

“Cause I can't make you love me if you don’t,

I can't make your heart feel something it won’t.

 

Here in the dark, in these final hours,

I will lay down my heart. I feel the power.

But you don’t. No, you don’t.” 

 

 

He carries on since I don't have an answer, “Just kill Kwon, it’s the easiest way. Or else, you have to find other wrongdoings in your life and fix one. You don’t have to kill him yourself. You can make him do so. Or, throw him into the jail, although it takes a lot of effort and time. So, stab him right in the heart seems to be the quickest.”

 

I shake my head as I raise a hand to pause him, “Wait. Let's go back to square one. I said I want to take a look first.” 

 

 

“24 hours.”

 

“Would you go with me?"

 

 

“Not yet, not after you take the deal.”

 

“Then send me back.”

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

I open my eyes again and find myself standing next to a bed. It’s now morning.

 

The bed is messy, so does her hair. I look down at Irene who is soundly asleep.

 

 

My fingers automatically find their place and tug a strand of her hair which has fallen over her cheeks. 

 

Which are still damp.

 

 

I try to dry them with my cold hands.

 

 

“Morning will come and I'll do what's right, just give me ’til then to give up this fight.

And I will give up this fight.”

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

There is a sudden the coldness of my face and I check.

 

I can’t believe what I just saw. 

 

 

I saw Wendy standing next to me smiling. It can’t be.

 

I rub my eyes. I pinch my thighs. She is still here, smiling in a way that comforts and hurts me at the same time.

 

 

 

“S-seungwan?” I try to call for her and my voice comes out feeble from all the crying last night. 

 

Is she a ghost? Is she just my imagination and have I already lost my mind? 

 

 

Well, maybe I have already lost my mind long ago.

 

I’m sorry, Seungwan.

 

 

“Joohyun-ah. It’s me.” She smiles again. 

 

To me, she still looks the same, she still sounds the same.

 

 

And the way she holds my hand, so gently as if she would hurt me.

 

It feels unrealistically real.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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I hope you'll find this interesting.

And we will see more of their past later.

Please stay tuned.

xo