Hello, I I'm writing a story called "I Couldn't See My Reflection." I'm hope you find it entertaining. I would appreciate any feedback for improvement. Synopsis: Lucas, a carefree children's book writer and illustrator, was adopted from Korea when he was just a baby. He never really thought about looking into his cultural roots; however, a mysterious event would force him to face a past he never knew existed. Can things ever go back to the way they once were? Genre : Paranormal psychological thriller, BL, trauma Table of Contents Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Epilogue
Chapter 1 A group of bright-eyed children sat on a colorful carpet in the bookstore, quietly and obediently listening to me as I read from my illustrated children's book. I tried to keep the kids entertained with dramatic expressions and used different voices for the various characters in the book. The kids laughed at my silly antics. They were such a cute bunch of polite and generous kids that I wish I could just give them all a big hug. Turning the last page, I grinned and looked around the room taking in each child’s innocent charms with love and affection. I didn’t have any of my own, but to me, children were the purest creatures on earth. I wanted to share all the wonderful things I’d ever seen and experienced with them. Because unlike adults, whose minds were beaten dead with work and responsibilities, children’s minds were lively with rich imagination and wonder. I had imagined becoming a teacher and hearing the kids say, “Good morning, Lucas,” once I graduated college. I could see myself letting my black hair and pathetic attempt at a mustache grow out as I got overworked over the school year. And at five foot and ten inches tall, I wasn’t the poster boy “tall, dark, and handsome,” but to the kids half my size I’m sure I would have appeared like a slightly tanned giant all the same. A college degree, a job, a boyfriend, and a dog: that was my ultimate dream. Alas, my trip to India changed my life forever. The sights, the smells, the people, the sunsets, the music, and the pace of life there it was chaos and serenity mixed into one great masala pot. I wrote it all down, trying to capture each precious memory in my travel journal. Soon the notes and sketches became pages and pages of stories, and then a month later they became a hard-cover book. I never went back to college. Most twenty-one-year-olds celebrate their first time legally drinking alcohol with a beer or a shot of spirits. As for me, I went on a book tour across America and drank champagne. The day I was celebrating the end of my book tour with my agent and publishers was the first time Do Yun came to see me. It was also the last time I could remember what my reflection looked like in a mirror. That morning I’d woken up to a nasty hangover. My head was spinning, and I wanted to vomit the last remaining liquids in my stomach. I was sure I looked like shit, so I didn’t care to look at my face in the mirror. I just splashed water on my face and gargled some mouth wash to feel a little more refreshed. But then, as I faced the mirror, nothing, there was nothing there. I gasped. “What the fuck?” I asked myself aloud in disbelief. I must still be drunk I thought. But, no, I looked again. And again, nothing. There was nothing in the mirror but the reflection of the wall behind me. I thought, ‘Is this some joke?’ I wiped down the mirror with my right hand to see if something was covering it. I touched my face to make sure it was still there. Maybe someone had slipped some drugs into my drink at the gay bar we were at last night. I hadn’t done anything crazy the night before, and I could clearly remember everything that happened. I wasn’t a heavy drinker or into using street drugs, so what the fuck was this? Touching the empty space in the mirror where my reflection should have been I suddenly felt the hairs on the back of my neck stick up. Goosebumps rose all over my skin as a chill ran down my spine. I suddenly felt like there was another presence in the bathroom with me. I stood still and took a deep breath. A few seconds passed by and I looked around the room to see if there was anyone else there. Nothing. I turned around to look in the mirror again. Nothing. “I must be seeing things,” I said to myself. Deciding that I just needed more sleep, I went back to bed to calm down my nerves. I didn’t believe in the paranormal at that point, but things changed very quickly after that. When I woke up that evening, I didn’t head to the bathroom first. Instead, I went to the kitchen and drank some water. Then I couldn’t avoid it any longer and had to go pee. I didn’t look up as I washed my hands. ‘This is fucking ridiculous,’ I scolded myself before I pushed myself to look into the mirror. This time I jumped back with a shout. It wasn’t me! It was another Asian boy, someone younger. His skin was pale and putrid. His black hair looked damp, and his clothes looked as if they had been soaked through. But what stood out the most were his eyes — those bloodshot eyes, so sad and yet so terrifying. “Hoon, ah,” I heard him call out to me. It was the last thing I recalled before I blacked out and woke up the next morning on the bathroom floor. I woke up with a start. ‘It must have been a nightmare,’ I thought. But, again, when I looked in the mirror, I saw nothing. “What the fuck do you want from me?” The mirror suddenly cracked as if someone had taken a hammer and smashed it. I let out a scream and rushed out the door. I couldn’t stay in that apartment for another minute. So, I ran around to grab my cell phone and keys and shot out the front door without even changing out of my pajamas and headed over to my agent’s apartment a few blocks down the street. “What’s up, sister?” Casey asked when she answered my phone call. “Casey, you gotta help me. I think I’m losing my mind.” “Huh, what’s going on?” “I can’t see my reflection.” “What?” “When I look in the mirror, I can’t see my reflection. I saw this ghost, a dead person instead!” “Whoa, are you still drunk from the other night?” “No! You know I’m a lightweight. I’m serious. I think I’m going crazy, man.” “OK, OK. Just calm down. Where are you?” “In front of your building.” “OK, I’ll come down to get you, just stay calm. OK?” “OK.” After I explained what happened to Casey, he wasn’t too sure what to make of it. Like a couple of scared teenage boys, we held hands and went into his bathroom to see what would happen. Nothing. I could see our reflections just fine. Casey’s face was clean shaved, and his hair meticulously styled with pomade. I, on the other hand, looked like shit. My hair was a crow’s nest, my skin was pallid, and even though I didn’t have much facial hair, I still needed a clean shave. Still, I was relieved. At least it was just all in my head and I could see myself in the mirror again. I went back home that day thinking perhaps I was more stressed out than I thought. Casey suggested seeing a therapist or getting laid. Both options felt like homework to me, but I thought the second option was much quicker, so we decided to meet up that night at another bar we went to for hookups. I didn’t want to admit it, but I was still too scared to look into the mirror by myself. So, I went ahead with the day without trying to look again. It was just wishful thinking really. It wasn’t a weekend, so the club wasn’t completely packed. Still, there were a good amount of good-looking guys to pick for a night of exercise. I wanted to find someone who could help me release some pent-up sexual tension I didn’t realize I even had. It reminded me of the Victorian times and the creation of dildos to cure hysteria. I hadn’t used a dildo since high school, and the last time I’d had sex was sophomore year in college at a party. I know I’m not exactly the top of the crop, but finding a good fuck is really hard. Still, it didn’t take too long for me to spot a beautiful brunette looking at me from the other end of the room. He was holding a tumbler of whiskey in one hand resting the other in the pocket of his jeans. He wasn’t incredibly muscular, leaner, and athletic-looking, and not incredibly pale, but not tanned. Looking into those sparkling blue eyes he smirked at me, and I had to scoff in return. We both knew the rules of the game. I took my Manhattan with me and asked my friends to wish me luck as I got up from my seat and headed toward the handsome stranger. I think he said his name was Bailey or Billy, I don’t remember, but he was from out of town, and we went to his hotel room. I remember asking him if he had condoms when we were in the taxi because I wanted to make sure we didn’t need to make any stops before we got to his room. He told me not to worry so we headed straight to the hotel. When we got into the room, we didn’t go at it like animals. Instead, he offered me some champagne and suggested we showered before we started to have sex. This was exactly what I was looking for, so I was pretty happy with how things were going. We were both naked in the large shower and started kissing as the hot water ran down our bodies. I felt his hands squeeze my buttocks as he drew my body closer to his. I felt his penis rub against mine and I let out a hum of satisfaction as I wrapped my arms around his neck. I felt his warm tongue wrap around mine and I could taste the saltiness of his saliva as we wrestled our tongues as snakes intertwined. Just as Billy, or Bailey, lifted my leg and pushed my back against the wall I realized we didn’t bring any condoms into the bathroom, and I opened my eyes. That’s when I noticed the mirror in front of me. Again, I couldn’t see my reflection. I gasped and let out a shout. I pushed the other guy off me and slid open the glass shower door. There was nothing, again. I could see the other guy, I could see the shower, and I could see the steam from the water behind me, but I couldn’t see myself. “Do you see me?” I asked the guy as I pointed to the mirror. “See what” “Me?” I said — my eyes opened wide with fear. “Do you see my reflection?” “Dude, what are you talking about,” the guy asked me with a confused look on his face. “Of course, I can see your reflection. Are you on something?” “No,” I replied with a weak voice. I turned around to look at my reflection again. It wasn’t there. I panicked. My heart began to beat thunderously in my ears, and I looked all over the mirror in search of my missing reflection. I went out of the bathroom, got my things, and left the hotel room without even saying goodbye to Billy, or whatever his name was. I was in a daze as I walked out of the hotel and hailed a taxi. When I got home I put my keys and phone down on the table in the hallway as always. I stared at the short hallway to the bathroom door. It was dark because I hadn’t turned on any of the other lights in my apartment. Slowly, I made my way down to the bathroom and took a deep breath before I opened the door. I stood in the doorway and turned on the lights. I looked around the bathroom from the doorway. After a few seconds, I finally stepped inside to face the mirror right next to the door. It was empty. I could see the door’s reflection, but nowhere was my face or body. I had just blinked when suddenly “it” appeared again — the boy. “Hoon, ah,” he called to me in a sad, longing voice. “Who are you? Why are you doing this to me,” I demanded. Suddenly the mirror cracked as if it had been smashed and I screamed with fear. This time I did not pass out. Instead, I ran. I grabbed my keys and my phone, and I ran out of my apartment. I ran and ran as if I were getting away from debt collectors. When I suddenly felt a jab in the side of my stomach I had to stop and take several breaths. Finally, I looked around me and realized I was lost.
Chapter 2 I didn’t know who he was, and yet he seemed to know me. He was definitely not of this world. There were large areas of dark skin on his face and then other areas of pale, ivory skin on his face. His jet-black eyes were large, round, and had a melancholy-like look to them as if he were in such indescribable misery. Who was this ghost and why could I only see him? As soon as Casey got out of the taxi and picked me up from the stoop where I had been waiting, he looked me up and down as if he wasn’t sure what to make out of the situation. It was, after all, the second time I’d called him in a panic. “Come, here sweetie,” He said as he reached out to me for a hug. “Let’s talk in the car.” Relief rushed over me as I hugged him and let out a deep sigh. “I don’t know what’s come over me,” I started as we headed into the taxi. “Everything was fine one minute, and then I suddenly couldn’t see my reflection again in the mirror.” “Again?” Asked Casey. “Maybe there’s something wrong with your eyes?” “No, I think it’s psychological. I think I’m losing my mind. I could see the other guy’s reflection just fine. I could see the reflection of everything else in the bathroom, but I couldn’t see me. And that’s not all. I saw something else.” “Something else? Like, what, a ghost?” “Yeah! I think I’m losing it, Casey. I don’t think it’s just being stressed out or pent up, I think I’m going nuts.” “Hey, hey, shush, now. It’s gonna be OK. Since it’s something psychological maybe seeing a psychiatrist isn’t such a bad idea after all. Maybe it’s something chemical with your brain or something emotional that you don’t know about.” “That’s true, I am adopted after all. I don’t know anything about my family’s mental history. Maybe someone in my biological family has schizophrenia or something,” I said with a sudden realization. “Maybe I need to ask my Mom if she knows more about my family from Korea.” “In the meantime, you should go see a doctor and get some meds,” Casey added. So, as soon as we got back to Casey’s apartment, we searched the Internet for psychiatrists who took my insurance. Casey gave me some sleeping pills so that I could calm my nerves and get some shuteye. I was still too afraid to look at the mirror, so I avoided it even when I went to the bathroom that night and the next morning. I avoided looking at windows and cups with liquids — anything that might show my reflection. I continued like this for a few days until my appointment with the psychiatrist. After blood tests, urine tests, and filling out surveys, the doctor asked me about my symptoms and then prescribed me medicine for my hallucinations. I was then told to seek psychological therapy to cope with any emotional issues I might be suffering. It all just seemed like I was just going through the motions of a long process. All the while, I was living with Casey and only went home to pick up my laptop and some clean clothes. ***** “So, how are things going this week,” asked the therapist who was sitting across the chair from me. “OK, I guess. Nothing’s changed,” I awkwardly replied. I’d started going to therapy twice a week for three weeks after the first incident, but it didn’t seem like anything had changed. I was still unable to look at a mirror or a window. It was getting to the point where I wouldn’t look at my own shadow. Casey and my friends all pointed out the bags under my eyes and the bad state of my dry skin. I just couldn’t stand in front of a mirror and lather on shaving cream or even water. “Yeah? Did you try what we discussed the last time?” “Yeah, I did some journaling and tracking my feelings and thoughts. It’s just all normal stuff. Nothing is weird until I had to go to the bathroom or walk past a window. I’m starting to have panic attacks now. It’s getting worse and worse, really.” “Well, did you wanna try that EMDR method I was talking about last time? It’s normally used for people with depression, but it’s also a very useful tool for people with past trauma that they’ve been suppressing for a long time and forgotten about it. “Honestly, I don’t think there’s anything really traumatic in my past, but like you’re right about not knowing what could have happened when I was in the orphanage in Korea. Maybe there was something that I didn’t want to remember.” “It doesn’t have to be an incident; it could have been something as simple as something someone said to you. There isn’t a one-size-fits-all measurement for trauma. And for some people it could be something that goes even further back into infancy, so you never really know. But it’s worth a try if we can find the source of your trauma and address it, maybe?” “Yeah, I think you’re right.” “OK, so it’s nothing scary or complicated. You just sit back and relax. Remember this is just a simulation, you are safe here. There is just you and me here. I want you to breathe in and out and let your body relax with each breath. Now I want you to look at a point on the wall or the ceiling, any point at all, and stare at it. Remember to breathe in and out. Relax your body. Now I want you to imagine yourself holding a mirror, you don’t have to look at it, just hold it in your hand. Do you see it?” “Um-hmm,” I replied nervously. “Now, I want you to imagine putting that mirror in a box — in a secure safety box with a lock that can only be opened by you. Think of the best way to get rid of that box. Do you have an idea?” “Yeah.” “What is it?” “Throw it into the bottom of a lake.” “Good, so throw it away and no one else will ever be able to open that box. How do you feel?” “Good.” “Yeah? Relieved?” “Yeah.” “Do you think relieved enough to look into a mirror?” “No,” I replied with a slight chuckle. “Well, that’s not a problem. We’ve got several sessions to go. In the meantime, you’ve got some homework mister. I want you to keep journaling your thoughts and feelings. Make sure you write down how you felt after the EMDR session today, OK?” The sessions continued for another six weeks without any progress. Instead, I was on a higher dosage of medicines for my hallucinations and panic attacks. The worst part was the vomiting. I would rush to the bathroom, empty out the gastric fluids from my stomach, and when I rinsed my mouth, I tried to avoid looking at the mirror at all costs. But no matter how hard I tried; I could still hear him. “Hoon, ah. Hoonie, ah.” It was like he was calling out to me. Was my Korean name Hoon or Hoonie? I called my adopted mother and asked about my original Korean name. It wasn’t Hoon. My Korean name was Gu because I was the ninth child. My biological family was perfectly healthy. They were just too poor and couldn’t raise more than the eight children they already had. And then, my parents adopted me when I was only two months old. So much for a traumatic past. Then who was this Hoon guy? And why did this ghost have to come to me? I shouted at him several times. I demanded him to stop fucking with me, but he never went away. He just looked at me with those sorrowful eyes calling out to me over and over again. Finally, one day enough was enough and I smashed the mirror with my fist. I tore it off the wall and threw it into the porcelain bathtub. “Leave me alone! Just leave me alone! I’m not Hoon, damn it! I’m not him.” “Lucas?” Casey asked as he poked his head in from the hallway. “My God, look at this mess! Your hand… you’re bleeding.” I let him take my hand and rinse it with warm water. I didn’t speak or look at him. I was too ashamed. I knew I looked like a mess. I was ashamed of myself. I knew I was crazy. I knew he wouldn’t believe all this stupid talk about ghosts. No one would believe something only I could see. “Lucas, listen to me. You have got to pull yourself together, honey. I’m so worried for you. You haven’t answered any of my calls. And you look like a fucking skeleton. And… Ugh. I just don’t know anymore. Look, I know you’re gonna get mad at me, but I really think we need to see someone else about this.” “I have! I’ve gone to the fucking doctors. I went to therapy. Nothing is fucking working. I’m fucking losing my shit. OK? I’m fucking crazy, alright? Is that what you think?” “No. I believe you. Just because I can’t see it doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. What the hell is God then?” I let out a laugh of relief. At least I still had this one friend who believed me. “I know you’re gonna say that I’m joking with you, but listen to me, I’m not, OK? I think we need to see a medium.” “A what?!” “A medium. You know like the ones on T.V. Someone who can talk to the dead, you know?” I looked at Casey and held my breath. Then I let out a big sigh. Yes, it did sound like a ridiculous joke, but what else did I have to lose. I was clearly already close to the edge of losing my mind.
Chapter 3 So, how does one seek a Medium in the first place, you might ask. In modern times there is only one place: the Internet. A Goggle search led me to several local mediums and, surprisingly, Oprah. There was also a Wikipedia page for more thorough research, but I was not patient enough to write a dissertation on the subject. I wanted answers like yesterday. Thus, like picking a restaurant on Yelp, I looked at the reviews and picked a Medium with the most reviews and the highest ratings. Jennifer’s office was above a Vietnamese restaurant on the other side of town. I had explained to her my situation, and she seemed eager to help me. She asked me to bring a shard from the mirror in my bathroom and two hundred dollars. She explained to me she wasn’t a psychic or a fortune-teller. She could only connect me to someone from the spirit world who had a connection with me. Nine times out of ten she was successful, but in the case that she couldn’t make a connection she offered a full refund. I felt pretty confident this was going to be the answer to all my questions, so I went ahead and scheduled an appointment. The woman I met was a cheerful, plump, short lady with curly brown hair. She had a warm smile and lovely blue eyes. She was dressed in white pants and a white jacket that fitted a little too tightly around her round frame. Her office looked just like my therapist’s office: the room had a desk full of dust, an old sofa, and an old recliner was set next to the sofa. I had imagined there would be some candles at the very least, but there was nothing mystical or otherworldly about the decor of the office at all. I tried my best to listen to Jennifer’s explanation about what Mediums do and the process of connecting to the spirit world, but there was a faint zephyr of beef and herbs floating in the air. I could imagine the fresh rice noodles sloshing in a dark, savory bowl of soup garnished with fresh cilantro and lime. I handed Jennifer the piece of glass and heard a large rumble from my stomach as I sat down on the sofa. Jennifer chuckled. “Getting a little hungry, there, are we?” “Sorry,” I shyly replied. “It just smells so good. How do you get any work done around here?” “Well, as you can see,” she answered as she placed her hands around her stomach. “It ain’t easy.” I laughed along with her and nodded. Jennifer sat in the recliner next to me and held the piece of glass in her hand. Then she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I can see him. I can see the spirit. He’s a young boy, about fifteen or sixteen, yes?” “Yes,” I replied. “He’s got black hair and almond-shaped eyes.” “No, his eyes were round and large,” I corrected her. “He’s wearing some kind of old-style clothing, like brown pants and a white linen shirt.” “Yes, yes, that’s what I saw him wearing last time, too.” “He’s not that tall. He’s looking at me. He’s very sad. He looks very forlorn and downhearted. I’m gonna try to talk to him and ask him his name.” Jennifer took another deep breath and clenched the piece of the mirror in her hand. “He won’t talk to me. He’s walking away from me. He’s heading to a river or a lake. He’s waving goodbye to me. Wait!” She stood up and reached out with her hand, letting the piece of the mirror drop to the floor. Jennifer opened her eyes and stood still for a moment to collect herself. “I’m sorry, Lucas, but he wouldn’t stay and talk to me. I’m sorry that I couldn’t get any answers for you. Sometimes the spirits don’t always cooperate with me. Like I said before, there’s always a chance I can reach them but still not get any answers. I hope you understand.” I pressed my lips together and folded them inward towards my teeth; yet another failure. I let out a sigh and nodded my head. “That’s alright. I figured it wouldn’t go anywhere.” “Well, wait. I have a friend who is a Hypnotherapist. From what you’ve told me about your problem, it sounds like an issue from a previous life. Have you ever tried past life regression before?” “No.” “If you’re not too sure about Spirit Mediums, maybe you should give hypnotherapy a try. I’ll give you his number, and if you decide to give him a try you can call him and set up an appointment.” “Thank you,” I said as I stood up to leave. I took the paper with the phone number. Then, I headed to the restaurant to order a bowl of pho.
Chapter 4 Bill Jones was his name. He was a nice, college-professor-looking-type-kinda guy. He wore black pants, a blue and white striped button-up shirt that was tucked neatly into his pants, and a slim, navy blue necktie. He looked like he was ready to recite some complicated theory rather than some heebie jeebie spiel about past lives. “Hi Lucas, nice to meet you,” he said as he held out his hand to shake mine. “Yeah, Hi. Nice to meet you, too.” “Here, why don’t you take a seat? So, you’re wanting to do some past life progression to help with a ghost haunting you that’s causing you to not be able to see your reflection, is that correct?” “Yeah,” I replied with a nervous laugh. “I know it sounds ridiculous, believe me, I know. I’ve been to a Spiritual Medium, a psychiatrist, a therapist, you name it, but nothing seems to work. So, Beth, the Spirit Medium recommended I come to see you.” “Yeah, yeah, I know Beth. Well, let me say this, I don’t think it’s ridiculous, OK? I think there is a reason for all these weird things that happen to us in our lives. It may not be a ghost or it could be ghosts, but I’m not quick to judge. I’ve lived long enough to know not to jump to any conclusions based on my assumptions. We’re all just a tiny speck of dust compared to the whole universe. What do we know about what’s out there? Just a little, really.” “Yeah.” “Now, before we begin, I need you to understand that hypnotherapy is not some brainwashing magic garbage. I can only influence you as much as you let me influence you. I cannot force you to do anything against your will. And I want to reassure you that I will not do anything that would make you feel uncomfortable. You will be conscious throughout the whole process. And at any time you feel uncomfortable you can open your eyes and stop the session without any repercussions. Do you understand? You can always tell me to stop and we can stop immediately. OK?” “OK.” “Before we get into the real session, I need to see how easily you can be hypnotized. So, we’ll have to do a quick test. OK?” “OK.” “I need you to look at your finger, point it at your face, and when you’re ready, close your eyes. Now, I want you to slowly touch your forehead with your finger and leave it there. Good. Now, When I snap my fingers you’ll go into a deep sleep. Good. Now, I’m gonna count to three, and when I snap my fingers, you’ll try to move your finger, but you won’t be able to move it from your forehead no matter how hard your try. Ready? Three, two, one…” He snapped his fingers, and oddly enough, I couldn’t move my finger. I tried to pull and twist it off my forehead but it just wouldn’t budge. “Good, good. Now, I’m gonna count to one, and when I snap my fingers you can move your finger off your forehead and open your eyes. Ready? One, two, three…” He snapped his fingers. Then, I moved my finger and opened my eyes to look at him. I felt as if I’d awakened from a short nap. It was odd. I was awake and aware the entire time, but for some reason, my body had listened to his suggestion and obeyed his command instead of mine. “Looks like you’re ready. Shall we give it a try?” I took a breath and stretched. Then I nodded in agreement. Bill told me to move to the sofa and lie down. He remained sitting at the desk set diagonally from me. I could hear his voice coming from behind as if he were a wind pushing me forward on a journey. Bill told me to imagine climbing down a staircase to a private beach cove. From there I wrote numbers on the sand with my heal. Starting with 100, and then backward until ninety, then we skipped by tens until we reached one. When we reached zero, Bill snapped his fingers and said, “Deep Sleep.” Then he guided me to the past, a time long forgotten, hidden in my memory. “I can see a lake or a pond,” I explained with my eyes still closed. “There’s tall grass around it. Someone’s standing in front of the water looking in. I think it’s him.” “What does he look like?” “Thin, pale, black hair, long legs… He’s turning around. I’m scared. I don’t wanna see his face. He’s scary. Don’t call me. He keeps calling me. Don’t come closer. He’s… wait… he’s waving to me. He… He’s jumping into the water. He looks like he’s struggling. He’s shouting something, I don’t know what he’s saying. He’s not speaking English. He’s drowning! What should I do? What should I do? I can’t save him. I can’t help him. AH! He’s got my leg. AH! Let go! Let go!” At that moment I opened my eyes and struggled to breathe. I stumbled to the floor and rushed to my bag to grab my medication for panic attacks. Bill rushed over to me and asked me if I was alright. I asked for a glass of water and trembled as I swallowed the medicine. Bill asked if I could remember falling into a lake or pond when I was younger, but I didn’t. For as long as I could remember I was an excellent swimmer. There had never been a traumatic episode in my normal childhood. Bill had me go under once more to complete the session and to give me a positive suggestion. He tried to have me recall images of times when I was younger having fun swimming in the lake at camp or scuba diving in Phuket, Thailand. I managed to conjure up the memories, but something in my heart told me it wasn’t enough to erase the vivid feeling of a cold hand tightly holding onto my ankle. Days passed and I still couldn’t see my reflection in the mirror, but it didn’t upset me as much anymore. I went to see Bill twice a month and the second time wasn’t as scary as the first. Each time I would catch a glimpse of a boy who haunted my mirror and he would talk to me in what I thought was Korean, but I never knew what he was saying. I went and bought a Korean textbook and decided to learn it on my own. The visions always started at the pond. The boy would stand there, in front of the water, look back at me, smile, and then jump in. My heart would leap into my throat each time as if something dreadful had happened and I was supposed to stop it. Still, no matter how far along we go into the vision the boy would jump first and then drag me into the water afterward. It was terrifying. In our fifth session, Bill and I decided I would dive into the water with the boy instead of waiting for him to pull me. I was tired of being scared of the unknown. I wanted to find an end to all this madness and free my mind from the torture of fear. So, on cue when the boy looked at me and said something, I interrupted him and said, “Not this time,” right before I made a run for it and dove into the water like a loose cannonball.
Chapter 5 “Hoon, ah, take this fish,” the boy who emerged from the water said as he handed me the wriggling fish the size of two small hands. At first, I was taken aback. I could understand what he was saying. Second, he no longer looked deathly pale and sad. The ghost of a boy looked healthy and alive. “Ack! Yah! Hoon, you dropped the fish. I told you to take it, didn’t I? Aish.” I looked at the other boy in a daze. What was this? Why was he suddenly taller than me? He was the ghost in the mirror, but younger. Maybe ten or eleven years old. But what was most shocking was why could I understand him? Then, a name from the depths of my heart suddenly came out of my lips as if I’d been saying it since birth, “Do Yun?” “What? Why are you calling me now?” “Do Yun, ah.” “What? Stop calling my name and help me catch the fish you just lost, stupid.” Suddenly, my eyes filled with tears and my heart clenched with pain. “Do Yun, ah,” I called out as if I hadn’t seen him in a century. “There’s no use crying now,” he replied with a peeved sigh. “Let’s try again tomorrow. We should head back and change our clothes or the teacher will catch us again.” I wiped my tears and followed him obediently as I remained surprised by the sudden overflow of emotions and the strange course of events. Was I still in a hypnotic session? Why did all of this feel so real instead of like a movie playing in my mind like usual? I anxiously followed Do Yun and stared at his back as he lead the way. We walked along a dirt path in a dense forest until we came up to what looked like an ancient Asian house you saw in the movies with a heavily tiled roof and large wooden sliding doors. ‘Where is this place?’ I thought to myself, not recognizing the place at all. I followed Do Yun around the building to the backside. I didn’t notice anyone else outside or around the house. It seemed like there were rooms lined up along the back, each had a sliding door. Do Yun hurried and opened one of the doors and entered a room. I followed him and closed the door behind me. Inside the room, there was a wooden dresser and a pile of folded blankets against the wall. Do Yun pulled out a pair of pants and a clean shirt from the dresser and threw them at me. “Woah,” I gasped as I caught a glimpse of my pudgy hands. I was a child! I looked down at my feet they were snow white and half the size of my regular feet. I looked up at Do Yun and then at myself again. I must be younger than him by a year or two. “Quick, don’t just stand there with your mouth open. We need to go hang these clothes and hurry back to the evening class before the Father catches us.” I changed my clothes without uttering another word and watched Do Yun do the same with his new set of clothes. Do Yun put our wet clothes together and headed out the door. I followed him to the yard where the laundry was hanging out to dry. “Hoonie, come here and help me,” Do Yun said as he twisted the water out of his shirt and hung it on the clothesline. “Oh,” I replied and followed his actions. “Ya, you two.” I heard a low, raspy voice call from behind me. I turned my head around to see who it was. I recognized the old man as the Gardner, Mr. Park. He was around fifty to sixty years of age with dark gray and white hair. He wasn’t much taller than Do Yun, who was about a head taller than me, but his build was definitely a lot bigger. He was a lot older than us, but he didn’t look like a weary old man. Instead, he looked like he’d been through some rough times in his life and he could still take on a fight or two. The sight of this man suddenly filled my heart with dread I hadn’t ever felt before. Why did I hate this guy so much? “Follow me,” He ordered. I looked at Do Yun with a worried expression on my face. Do Yun smiled at me and shook his head as if to say, “Don’t worry.” Then he jogged a little and followed the man across the lawn to a shed facing away from the main building. I jogged along behind him, but my legs got heavier and heavier the closer we got to the shed. When I reached the other side the older man was holding the door open. Do Yun had already gone inside the shed. “Hurry up you little brat,” Mr. Park nonchalantly ordered then shut the door behind me with a bang. Inside the shed, there was a dusty desk full of tools and pieces of paper. Ropes and belts of all kinds hung from the ceiling. In the corner lay brooms, shovels, and rakes. The shed wasn’t very large, but it was big enough to fit all three of us and what looked like an old wagon. Mr. Park pulled out a match from the desk drawer and lit the wick from an oil lamp. The sun had set by now and it was getting hard to see around us without some lights. He walked toward the wagon and set the lamp down on a ledge inside the wagon so the entire side of the wagon was lit up. Then he motioned for Do Yun to come closer to him. I watched as Do Yun’s face hardened and his pace stiffened like a soldier marching into war. I watched as Mr. Park tied Do Yun’s hands together with rope and hung them to the railing on the side of the wagon. I shouted at him and told him to stop, but he didn’t pay any attention to me. Instead, he pulled down Do Yun’s pants and started to unhook his own belt. Terrified I charged at him with all my might and tried to pull him away from Do Yun. I screamed as loud as I could until my face was red and blue. Mr. Park flung me off of him like a piece of cloth and I crashed into the side of the wall. “Hoon, no. Stop. Mr. Park, don’t hurt him. You can do whatever you want to me, but don’t hurt Hoonie,” Do Yun pleaded, still tied to the wagon in a humiliating manner. Mr. Park didn’t listen and came after me like a drunken madman. He grabbed the back of my hair and shoved my face into the dirt floor. I could taste the metal flavor of blood mixed with dirt. I felt his feet kick the sides of my ribs and his hands grab my arms and legs. Then, there was only pain, lots and lots of intense pain all over my body. After a while, my mind went blank and I couldn’t feel or see anything but black space.
Chapter 6 “Lucas, can you still hear me?” “Huh? Yeah, I can hear you,” I replied to Bill. “So, what do you see now?” “Nothing,” I replied and sniffed up some snot running down my nose. “I can’t see anything anymore.” “OK. I want you to remember a moment in your life when you felt strong. When you felt like you’ve overcome something incredibly hard. Do you have that memory in your sight?” “No, I can’t see anything.” “Let’s go back to the day you finished writing your book. How did you feel then?” “Relieved. Accomplished.” “Yeah? Did you feel like you’d overcome some obstacles in your life?” “Yes. I felt like I’d finished a huge undertaking.” “Good, good. I want you to focus on that memory. Think about holding the completed book in your hands. Look at the cover of your book. Look at your name on the cover. You did it. You’re an accomplished author. All your hard work has finally paid off. There isn’t anything you can’t do. You’re a brave person who can face any danger. How do you feel right now?” “OK. I’m still a little shaken, but I think I can handle it.” “Alright, Lucas. I’m gonna have you come back now and end the session. I’m gonna count to three and snap my fingers. On the count of three, I want you to open your eyes and feel refreshed and safe in the here and now, OK?” “OK.” “One, two, and three.” Bill snapped his fingers and I opened my eyes just as he had commanded me. “How are you feeling? That was quite intense, wasn’t it?” “Yeah,” I replied as I sat up on the sofa. “The visions might continue on tonight in your dreams, but I want you to know it’s all just dreams. Just write everything you see down and we can discuss it at the next session. We’ve kinda gone over the time limit today, so we’ll have to do a debriefing in the next session. True to Bill’s words the vision continued that night in my dreams, but this time it didn’t happen as if I was there. I can’t explain it, really. During the hypnosis session, it really felt like I had taken over Hoon’s body but now I was just a separate conscience looking through Hoon’s eyes. I didn’t have control over his body, just his awareness. It was both Hoon and me at the same time. In the dream, I stared at Do Yun’s bare back. It had welts and bruises all over with slash marks as if he’d been whipped a hundred times over. I was silently applying ointment to his wounds. He winced and hissed with every touch. My heart sank a little more every time he flinched. “Hoon, ah. Let’s kill him. No one believes we’re good anyway. Why don’t we just kill him and run away?” Do Yun said as his voice trembled. I lay my cheek on his shoulder and nodded in agreement as the tears rolled out of my eyes. “Um,” I replied. “We’re not little kids anymore. We can go to the sea and find work on a ship, and then we’d never have to come back here ever again.” “Um.” “Hoon, ah, is that all you can say?” asked Do Yun, his voice cracking with emotions. “Oh,” I replied with a slight chuckle as I wiped my nose with my sleeve. In our hearts, we knew it was just wishful thinking. We had nowhere to go. We’d both been abandoned as babies without a place to go or a single person to rely on. Where could two homeless, uneducated orphans like us run to? Do Yun turned around to look at me and scoffed. “So ugly,” he said, almost whispering, as he reached out to embrace me. I laughed and wiped my eyes before carefully wrapping my arms around his waist. I rested my forehead against his chest and closed my eyes. It seemed as though this sweet moment could fade away at any second. My heart was filled with both love and dread all at once; ready to boil over at any minute. The next morning I woke up feeling as if I’d slept in a cramped box. As soon as I moved all of the joints in my body popped and snapped as if a kettle of kernels were being heated into popcorn. My body felt heavy and weary. I went to the restroom and, for a moment, forgot that I couldn’t see my reflection. I washed my face with cold water and looked in the mirror to see how I looked. Nothing. I still couldn’t see my reflection, but now it wasn’t as alarming as the first time. “Good morning, Do Yun. Can I have my reflection back, please?” I casually said to the mirror. I waited a few seconds for a reply. Nothing. It wasn’t so scary after a while — not seeing my reflection. And then, I began searching in other mirrors and windows for Do Yun, but he no longer showed up or called out to me. I would only see Do Yun in my hypnotherapy sessions, but only as memories. There were times were boys climbing trees. Other times we were punished together for stealing or fighting. And then there were the scarier memories of being pushed, punched, kicked, ridiculed, and molested. In the end, Do Yun was always there next to me holding my hand and never letting me down. I went through the motions of my usual routine: coffee, reading the news, jogging, showering, and then working on my next book. All the crazy things just gradually took a back seat to daily routines for some reason. Was it because I was trying so desperately to stay sane? Was I insane for trying to stay sane with everything that was going on around me? It certainly felt like there was a gray cloud hanging over my head all day long, but what else could I do? I was taking my pills, I was seeing my therapists and doctors. I was writing in my journal, reading about, and researching schizophrenia and past life regression. Was all of this not normal? No, there was nothing normal about my life at all and I was just getting prepared for the truth. Just as he did in the past, Do Yun was just hiding the worst parts for me to discover later on my own.
Chapter 7 The last session with Bill started normally. He had me lay down on the sofa and look at a point in the ceiling. As he counted and I relaxed my mind, I could feel as though my body were waving to and fro, as if I were idly floating on water. Once Bill snapped his fingers I was taken back to the shed -- the place I hated the most. It was nighttime and I could hear moaning and raucous breathing coming from the shed. I knew it was them. Anger started to rise from the depths of my heart. I knew what they were doing in there. I hated Mr. Park for doing all those terrible things to us. I hated Do Yun for not being strong enough to fight off Mr. Park. Nut most of all, I was disgusted with myself for being jealous of Mr. Park. Do Yun was my special person. I didn’t want anyone else to touch him but me. “Oh, so you came, too, huh?” Mr. Park asked with a smirk while opening the door. I glared at him. I wanted to smash that dirty face with my fist. “What, you want to hit someone, huh, punk? This little jerk. Who do you think you are, huh?” he asked as he slightly pushed the side of my head. “Who the fuck do you think you’re looking at, punk?” Slap. Another slap. I was sick of sharing Do Yun with this disgusting piece of garbage. I couldn’t take it anymore. I grabbed him by the neck and squeezed with all my might. “Hoon, ah! Hoon, ah! Let him go. Don’t kill him. Don’t do it. They’ll never let us go. They’ll never believe us!” After hearing the last sentence, I finally came to my senses. It was true. No one would ever believe the word of two worthless orphans. They had never believed us when we told them the truth before. Instead, they believed Mr. Park every time he said that we had gotten into a fight when we showed up with bruises all over our faces and bodies. No one would believe the horrible, despicable things he did to us or the disgusting way he touched us. No, they had always believed his words over ours. We had always been punished when we had tried to argue. We were always wrong, always lying, always making trouble for everyone else. “You little shit. I’ll teach you a fucking lesson,” Mr. Park shouted as he grabbed an ax set up next to the shed. Do Yun shouted, “No,” as he rushed in front of me. We both fell to the ground with a loud thud. When I opened my eyes I saw Do Yun laying over me with an ax sticking out of the back of his head. “Do Yun!” I screamed in horror. “Fuck! Fuck!” Mr. Park shouted. I froze and stared at him with my eyes wide open. Do Yun was gurgling blood from his mouth trying to say something to me. My mind went blank and I didn’t know what to do or what to say. It all felt like a nightmare. It couldn’t be true. I kept staring, watching as Do Yun struggled to breathe his last breath. It happened so fast, that I couldn’t understand what had just happened. “Do Yun? Do Yun, ah. Do Yun, ah. Do Yun!” I cried and screamed. His body jerked and I flinched with fear. “Shit, he’s still alive,” Mr. Park said as he walked up to us and pulled the ax out of Do Yun’s head. He raised it and swung it again at Do Yun’s busted head. I shouted and flinched, but couldn’t move from my spot. I just kept staring at Do Yun’s bleeding face. “Get up, you stupid fuck. If you don’t want to end up like him, then you better fucking help me get rid of this body,” Mr. Park threatened. Dumbstruck, I stared at Mr. Park then at Do Yun. I couldn’t move, and even if I wanted to it seemed like I had no control over my body. Mr. Park stomped over to me and slapped me hard against my head. “Are you fucking deaf? Do you wanna die? Get up and grab his arms.” I stupidly did as I was told and put my hands underneath his shoulders. Mr. Park grabbed Do Yun’s knees and we began walking toward Mr. Park’s cart. Do Yun’s bloody head bobbed against my chest and pieces of his brain fell to the ground as I walked. I felt the urge to vomit and did my best to swallow it back down. We swung the body into the cart like a dead animal and it hit the bottom with a thud. “Go to the front and pull the cart. Don’t even think about running away.” “Where are we going,” I dumbly asked. “The pond, you idiot.” Every heavy step felt like I was walking in thick mud. What just happened suddenly replayed in my mind as we walked from the shed down the forest path to the pond. Do Yun was dead. Do Yun died trying to protect me, and here I was dragging his body to the pond like a criminal hiding his sin. The tears from my eyes began to fall like rain. “Huh,” Mr. Park sneered. “Now, you’re crying? Such a weak sissy. You’re both such weak pussies.” I didn’t reply and continued pulling the cart. What could I do now? What would happen now? What were we going to say when they ask about Do Yun? Are we gonna say he drowned? Would they believe us? “Damn it, wipe your nose. It’s fucking annoying me.” I grabbed my shirt and blew out my snot. I wiped the tears from my face with my hands and continued forward. Once we reached the pond, I grabbed Do Yun’s upper body and Mr. Park grabbed Do Yun’s lower body. We walked a little further until the water was as high as my waist and then we flung Do Yun’s body into the water. I stood next to it and stared at him again, still unsure whether everything that had happened was real or not. Suddenly, I felt Mr. Park’s hand grab my hair and drag my head into the water. I struggled and tried to pry his hand off my hair. He pulled me up, out of the water, and then right back in as if he were trying to drown me. He did this several times until I finally struggled free from his hold and he had pulled out several of my hairs. “Don’t you get any ideas about trying to turn against me, either. It’s all your fault anyway. Do Yun wouldn’t have died if you didn’t try to strangle me in the first place. I was just trying to defend myself against you punks. When they find him, you better tell them he went swimming by himself or I’ll tell them it was all your doing. You understand?” Shivering and terrified, I nodded my head. I stood in the water and watched Mr. Park get out of the pond and head back to the orphanage. When I turned around to find Do Yun, he was gone.
Chapter 8 My mind was a mess on the way back home. I didn’t listen to whatever Bill had said to me before I rushed out the door of his office. I just had a strong urge to meet with Do Yun again. I wanted to see him and tell him that I was sorry. I wanted to tell him I was wrong for helping Mr. Park back then. I should have told the world what evil things Mr. Park had done to us. I shouldn’t have been such a weak coward. Now, if I could only reach out to him and hold him once more and cry on his shoulders. Why was I spared? Why was the gentle and beautiful Do Yun killed? Even now, Do Yun was trapped inside that mirror, wasn’t he? How was I able to be reborn and live a normal life while he was stuck somewhere and couldn’t get out? As soon as I got back to my apartment, I rushed into the bedroom and shouted into the full-length mirror on the wall. “Do Yun! Do Yun! It’s me. It’s Hoon. I remember everything. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault. If I didn’t fight with Mr. Park you would have never died. It’s all my fault. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Do Yun.” Slowly, a faint shadow appears in the mirror. I could hear a voice in the distance call out to me, “Hoon, ah.” I heard the innocent laughter of children. I raised my hand and touched the glass. I wanted to reach out and pull Do Yun out of it. “Do Yun…” Before I could finish my words cracks slowly appeared from the frame of the mirror until they reached the middle of the glass and then exploded right into my face. Frightened and shocked, I fell back with my hands raised to protect myself from the flying shards of glass. That’s when I realized that Do Yun would never forgive me. He was angry with me. Do Yun had been killed because of my jealousy. Then, like a fool, I went along with Mr. Park and claimed Do Yun’s death was his own doing. It wasn’t just one or two great injustices done to Do Yun. How could I ever make it up to him? How could I ever ask for forgiveness? No, I didn’t deserve to be forgiven — not in the past and not in this life, too. Do Yun had every right to be angry with me. Still, I longed to see him again. I wanted to hear that clear voice calling out my name once more. I rushed to the closest store and bought as many mirrors as I could hold with two arms. When I got home I placed the mirrors on every bookshelf, table, and every wall in the living room. I sat in the middle of the room and called out to him over and over again. “Do Yun, I don’t know if you can understand me, but I feel terrible. I know I don’t deserve to be forgiven, but I really, really, didn’t mean for that to happen. I’m sorry, Do Yun. I’m sorry. I want to see you again. I don’t care if I never see my own reflection ever again, but can I at least see you?” Silence. Then, after a few moments, I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand straight up. A heavy pressure weighed down on my chest and I held my breath as I realized Do Yun’s presence was in the room with me. I couldn’t see him as clearly, but it was the outline of his shadow in the window. The lights from the living room cast a reflection on the window overlooking the street. I could make out that Do Yun was standing there with his arm raised out towards me. I ran over to the window to grab his hand, but as soon as I touched it all I could feel was water. Then I saw a ripple that spread throughout the window like a bead hitting the surface of a lake. Before I knew it, I heard a large bang and the window and all the mirrors in the room burst all at once. I don’t know what happened after that, but my parents told me that the neighbors called 911 and I was taken to the ER. This is the same thing I’ve told the police, the doctors, the therapists, and everyone else, but everybody wants me to believe that I single-handedly punched out a dozen mirrors and a double-pane window with a single fist because of mental illness. Well, as I write this statement, I don’t know what to believe anymore. I’ll never forget Do Yun’s face covered in blood as he took his last breath. I can’t erase the sadness in his eyes when he first came to see me. I wish I could see him again. I wish it had been me who had been killed, not him.
Chapter 9 A year has passed since I last saw or heard from Do Yun. I wonder if he’s crossed over to the afterlife. I know I’ll never be forgiven, but I want to stay connected to him in the present somehow. My doctors prescribed me all kinds of medications, counseling sessions, and journal writing as requirements to keep me from going insane, I guess. I’m just scared that I’ll forget everything that happened again and act like nothing ever took place. I’ve made very little to no progress with looking into mirrors or windows. Every time I see one I walk past them as if I’m running away from a crime scene. Although I want to see Do Yun, my innate habit is to avoid and fear a meeting first. There have been times I’ve stared into a mirror but saw absolutely nothing. Still, I couldn’t stop staring. I don’t really know what I was hoping to see, really. I was both nervous and in agony to see Do Yun again. I began to draw portraits of Do Yun; hundreds of them. In the early days of my recovery, I hung them up all over my room. There were also sketches of his smile, his eyes, his hands, his ears, and all the little details I could conjure up from my memory. A few months later, I began to remember details about the orphanage where we had lived and I became interested in seeing it in person. Searching the Internet there were over two hundred orphanages listed in South Korea. I had no idea where to start. How would I find a place that was a complete mystery to me, and may only exist in my mind? Without understanding the language, and the history of the country, there wasn’t a clear starting point. When I looked into my own adoption records there wasn’t any connection to the orphanage I’d seen in my visions. The orphanage I’d been adopted from was in Seoul and it was run by a private, non-profit organization. The orphanage I saw in my visions was near a church or western-looking building among traditional Korean buildings. I could see a forest that went up alongside a hill or mountain. Walking a trail from the garden shed led straight to the pond surrounded by tall grass. There were no signs of technology or modernization in my visions. I felt that it must have all taken place in the late 1800s or early 1900s, but that was still just a guess. I wanted to go back to hypnotherapy to find more clues, but as soon as I got to the front door of Bill’s office my legs gave out. A panic attack would start and then I’d return home. After talking to him on the phone, Bill suggested that I try to remember the details without hypnotherapy and sketch them out in a notebook. That’s when I started to draw the landscape and buildings I could recall from my visions. In the end, I couldn’t be sure if I was just making things up or if I was genuinely remembering an actual detail. By the time I’d given up, I received a call from a detective agency that I’d hired to help me with the search. They had connections with native Korean speakers who could do a much more efficient job than I could on my own. What I thought would take ten years only took a few months. According to the Korean agency, there was an orphanage that had been built at the bottom of Ansan Mountain in Seoul, but it had been destroyed during the Korean War. It wasn’t exactly what I was hoping for, but it still felt as though I might have found a piece of the puzzle. ***** It was a late spring morning when I finally arrived at Ansan Mountain. It was a popular recreational spot with trails, well-kept gardens, and scenic vista points overlooking the city of Seoul. The pink and white cherry blossoms were in full bloom and the gardens were filled with the luscious colors of pink and purple azaleas. The trails leading up to the vistas were lined with wooden stairs and handrails for easy climbing. All along the way there were young trees on either side of the trails happily swaying to the light breeze. My Korean friends on the Internet had mentioned the Hongjecheon Artificial Falls as a tourist spot, so I decided to stop by the place after a long day of hiking the different trails on the mountain. Like strokes of white ink running along jagged black rocks, the waterfalls flowed from the top of a cliff down to a small pool of water below. It reminded me of ancient Chinese ink paintings. It must have been a really refreshing stop before the highways and tall apartment buildings overcrowded the area. In the early evening, the number of people walking around was fewer as people made their way home. Before the light all but vanished, I decided to take some pictures of the large stones that made a pathway to cross from one side of the pool to the other. That’s when I saw it: an old wooden shed with a water wheel next to it. It didn’t look like the one from my vision, but it triggered a rush of incredible sadness within me. I could hear Do Yun calling out to me again. Scenes from that terrible night suddenly came flooding back before my eyes with flashes of light. I lifted my hands in front of my face as if to block my eyes from the light. I shouted with surprise before I felt my feet lift over me and felt a cold, harsh burst of pain in the back of my head.
Chapter 10 When I came to and opened my eyes again I was surrounded by dark water. Scared, my eyes widened as I struggled to swim toward to the surface. Fearing that I would run out of air, I swung my arms and legs around to push myself upwards. That’s when I felt a pair of hands wrap around my ankles and give a slight tug. I looked down and shouted with horror. It was Do Yun. His white shirt was still soaked in dark, red blood. He quickly swam up toward me and put his hands on my shoulders as if to stand face to face. His face was clean and there weren’t any signs of a wound on his head. His skin was a pale white with a hue of green light. His short hair flowed with the water making him look like an ethereal nymph. He was staring at me with his melancholy eyes. I looked into those dark, black eyes and shook my head. I didn’t want to die. I wasn’t sure what was happening or where I was but I just wanted to free myself from Do Yun’s grasp and run away. Do Yun gently placed his hands on my face and slowly leaned his forehead against mine. It was icy cold and sent shivers up my spine. I was shocked that I could feel him. I stopped flapping my arms and legs and calmed down. An immense surge of sorrow filled my whole body as I felt tears filling up my eyes. I placed my hands on Do Yun’s cheeks and earnestly studied his face. Wasn’t this the face of the person I had so longed to see again? Why was I so terrified of him? Do Yun smiled and closed his eyes as if he were laughing with relief. I felt a wave of peace wash over me. When he opened his eyes and looked straight into mine, I moved forward and pressed my lips against Do Yun’s. I closed my eyes and thought to myself, “I’m here now, Do Yun. I won’t ever leave again. This is where I’ll die -- with you, where I belong.” ******* All of a sudden I opened my eyes and I saw a white ceiling and heard the beeping of machines monitoring my vital signs. I heard someone enter the room and walk towards me and then move aside a curtain next to me. “Ah, Mr. Leigh, you’re finally awake. Good,” said a woman in English with a slightly Asian accent. I squeezed my eyes a couple of times to focus my vision and then turned to see who had spoken to me. A young Korean woman in her twenties dressed in nurse’s scrubs with her hair tied back in a ponytail smiled at me. Too stunned to answer I stared at her in silence. The young woman grabbed a clipboard at the end of my bed and started to write down notes as she continued to ask me how I was feeling. “What happened to me? Where am I?” “Do you remember what was the last thing that happened to you?” “I was at the waterfalls… taking pictures. I think I fell and hit my head on the stones.” “That’s right. You were unconscious and an ambulance sent you to this hospital. Do you remember?” I was about to shake my head, “No,” when I suddenly felt a flash of pain in the back of my head. “Does it hurt very much?” the nurse asked with a concerned expression on her face. “Mm. It’s OK. I shouldn’t have moved,” I replied. “Do you feel like you need to throw up?” “No, I’m OK.” “OK. Well, let me know if you need anything, OK?” “OK.” “See this button here?” She asked as she pulled up a remote control connected to the bed. “Just press this red button and call for me when you need help.” “OK, thank you. Wait, what’s your name? What do I call you?” “Oh,” She exclaimed with a smile, pulling her name badge forward so I could read it. “It’s Kim Do Yun. My English name is Brooke Kim. If Kim Do Yun is too hard, then you can just say Brooke, OK?” I gasped and my eyes widened. How could this be? Was this Do Yun? Was he standing right in front of me, but as a woman? I was speechless. “Mr. Leigh, are you OK?” “Are you really Do Yun? Is it really you?” The nurse gave me a quizzical look and replied, “Yes, my name is Do Yun. Do you know me?” I studied her face in silence, trying to find traces of Do Yun. There was nothing similar at all. She was a very pretty woman with round, bright eyes and a small bulb for a nose. Her skin was also pale and ivory white, but she didn’t have the same innocent demeanor. This Kim Do Yun was a modern woman with delicate features. My Do Yun was a lost soul from the past drowned in tragedy. I shook my head slightly and shrank back into my bed. Another day passed and then I was ready for discharge. Brooke came into the room with a pink plastic tub full of toiletries. “I thought you might want to shave before you leave the hospital, so I brought you some things to clean up,” she said with a smile as she raised the tub to show me. “Ah, thank you,” I awkwardly replied. Honestly, my facial hair never grew out much to where I needed a shave. And before that, I’d been too afraid to look in the mirror, but for some reason, I wasn’t really nervous that day. Maybe it was because someone named Do Yun was standing right in front of me. I didn’t panic when I grabbed the tub and headed toward the bathroom. With my head down, not looking in the mirror, I started to wash my face and prepare the shaving foam. I grabbed the shaver and, out of habit, I looked up into the mirror. To my utter surprise, I could see myself again. I looked like shit. Hallow eyes, pallid skin, and shaving foam covering the bottom half of my face. I looked like an anorexic Santa Claus with a black eye. I was shocked, but the thought of looking like Santa Claus made me laugh. How could I be jolly? I raised my shaking hand as I touched my reflection and scoffed in disbelief. What was this? Was I forgiven? Was it all over now? I quickly finished shaving and marveled that the long-forgotten sight of my reflection. The man I saw in the mirror was so weary and thin. I was more like a ghost than a living, breathing human being. “I wanted to die. I gave my life up to Do Yun, so what happened? Why am I back here again?” Silence. There was no reply.
Epilogue “Casey, let’s go out to dinner.” “Is this really Lucas?” Casey replied on the other line incredulously. I hadn’t spoken to him in weeks after I returned from Korea. He’s sent me numerous texts to check up on me, but like a ghost, I’d left him hanging. “Yes, yes. It’s really me. I’m sorry I’ve been such a shitty friend. I wanna make it up to you. So, let’s go have dinner, OK?” “I’m just kidding. I’ve been waiting for your call all this time. I didn’t want to push you to do anything you didn’t want to do.” “I know, and I’m grateful.” “So, I won’t settle for a cheap date then. I want to go to the fancy restaurant at the top of that hotel downtown.” “Sheesh, I’m still unemployed you know. And I have a massive hospital bill from Korea I still have to pay off.” “Don’t worry, I’m paying anyway. It’s to celebrate you getting better. So, no worries,” Casey encouraged me. With a light step and a clean suit, I dabbed some cologne on the back of my neck as I headed out the door to have dinner with Casey. When I arrived at the restaurant it was like a scene from a romantic movie. The windows were enormous and showed a grand view of the city skyline. There were a few tables for couples or small groups arranged throughout the room for dining. Guests were dressed in suits and cocktail dresses while waiters wore black and white uniforms for formal occasions. There was a light buzz of conversations, the clinking sound of wine glasses, and some smooth jazz piano music playing in the background. The host led me to my table by the window where Casey was already waiting for me. We had a nice evening filled with good food, wine, and friendly conversation. Life seemed like it was finally normal again. Just before we were about to leave and head to a bar for more drinks we heard a loud splash of water. Everyone in the restaurant froze and turned to look in the direction of the noise. “Go to hell, you selfish jerk,” a man said as he put down an empty glass on the table and walked away. The other man blinked as if he were still in shock. Then he took his napkin and wiped his face clean and took a deep breath. I blinked twice with surprise and said out loud, “Dean?” The man with dark blond hair and grass-green eyes looked up from his seat at me and scoffed as if to say, ‘Tonight just keeps getting better.’ Then he got up, put down his napkin, and said, “Hi.” I tried holding back a laugh, but couldn’t help it. The situation was just too familiar. The last time I had seen Dean was when he was chasing after me, naked, trying to apologize for getting caught cheating on me with a woman. “Nothing’s changed much I see.” “Ha, ha. That’s not true. This time I’m the one who was cheated on, OK? I just said something that upset him, that’s all,” Dean explained. “Sure,” I replied, not really convinced. “Hey, people live and learn, OK? I’m not the same kid I was in high school. Do you have to kick a man while he’s down?” I smiled and snickered at his feigned misery. The Dean I knew had no shame. He was not afraid to be himself, and that was what made me love and hate him. “All right, all right. I won’t rub salt on your wound. How about joining us for drinks for old time's sake, then?” Dean looked up from wiping the water off his suit and laughed. “Yeah, I could really use a drink.” An hour later Dean, Casey, and I had finished a shot or two and reminisced about our past. Dean had gone from a troublemaker brat to a resident doctor at the local hospital. It was just too amazing for me to see him as a mature adult. I could only see him as my partner in crime and high school sweetheart. To me, he would always be the boy that taught me how to love and then broke my heart into a million pieces. “Karma’s a bitch, ain’t it?” I teased him. “I know, I know,” Dean replied. “I deserve it, but I really tried my best this time. People make terrible mistakes. Can’t we be forgiven?” Do Yun’s face in the water suddenly flashed before me. “Can we be forgiven?” I asked in return. “I think so,” Dean said emphatically. “We’re only human. It’s not like I killed someone. Back then I gave into temptation and made a bad choice. I hurt you in the process, but I didn’t intend on hurting you.” “But you still hurt me. What if you had caused me to die? Should you have been forgiven then?” “What are you talking about? Was it so bad that you were gonna kill yourself?” “No, I’m just saying. Do you think a person should be forgiven if they caused someone else to die?” “Well, if you didn’t mean for it to happen then of course it’s not your fault. If it was an accident then how can it be your fault?” I frowned, not satisfied with his answer. It was my fault that Do Yun died though. His death could have been prevented. “What are you talking about anyway? Are we even talking about you and me from back then?” I let out a sigh and told him, “No.” After that, we all finished our drinks and ended our conversation. We exchanged numbers and said we’d meet up in the future, although it was just an empty promise. The days passed and soon the scary moments of the past became lost in the dull routines of normal life. I got a job as a part-time lecturer at the local community college. And even though I was still living with my parents, with a stable income I began to make plans to live on my own again. Every now and then my mother would come to my room and check up on me. My dad would offer me a beer in the evenings and would have a talk with me. It was a calm life without anything to really complain about. Still, there was always a dull, gnawing feeling inside me that I just couldn’t get rid of no matter how many medications I took or how many therapy sessions I attended. I could only accept that these feelings were never going away. Maybe I had chickened out at the last minute and decided to live on instead of dying with Do Yun in the pond. Maybe Do Yun had forgiven me and I was given a chance to redeem myself. Who knew the real answer? All I could do was move on. Life wasn’t going to stay on pause -- it would move forward no matter what. I could only move with the flow, and be grateful to those people around me who still cared for me.