ethereal | park jimin | ✓

chapter 7 hijacked phone calls

"Shit, I guess you shouldn't do homework anymore."

"Calculus homework almost killed me," I lament sarcastically while I open my sherbet container. I smooth over its orange surface with the back of my spoon. "I should sue my professor, and McDonald's. Do you think they'll give me free nuggets for life because I almost died in their parking lot?"

Alice chuckles. "It's worth a shot. But hey, if you want me to grab your stuff I can." Her voice is muffled by the sound of the wind, she is probably walking out to her car.

"That would be wonderful, thank you," I sigh in relief. "I think it's still unlocked. Be sure to lock it when you leave."

"Sounds like a plan!" Her car door opens and slams shut, cutting off the whistle of the wind. She is quiet for a beat before her tone grows with heavy concern. "Are you sure you're okay? I totally get if you don't want to talk about it but..."

There is a part of me that doesn't want to talk about it. I want to ignore that it ever happened in the first place. Not only that, I feel like such an idiot for flipping out in the ambulance. Somehow I feel guilty for being attacked and not being strong enough to fight back.

"Eden?"

I shake my head and drag myself from my thoughts. "Sorry, I got distracted." I take a bite of my sherbet and its tangy flavor helps to ground me to reality. "Not much happened, but I can tell you."

"Okay?"

"So... basically..." A strange pressure builds in my chest and suddenly, the words are difficult to form. I clear my throat and decide to take another route, a more humorous one. "Basically I had a run-in with the black market. Shady men, midnight, no witnesses, the whole deal."

"Holy shit..." she whispers. "I didn't think that type of stuff existed."

Jimin's face appears in my mind without warning. The memory of him is vivid as life happens before my eyes. The terror shining in his dark eyes, the blood on his hands, and I can still smell the earthy and gasoline scent on his clothes.

"We're safe now."

"Hey, are you okay?"

I snap out of my dark daydream at the sound of her voice. "Me? Yeah, I'm okay," I lie in a light tone. "Sorry, I don't think the connection is good in this place."

"We should talk later. I'll grab your things for you. Remember to rest, alright? You mentioned a concussion?"
"Yeah. I'm okay now, they even took me off the painkillers. I just need to be careful with myself."

"That's good. I'll be there in a bit. I'll call you if I can't find your car. See you soon!"

I smile gratefully, "Goodbye. And thanks again." Then we hang up.

I sink back into the hospital bed and stare at the ceiling. My mind drifts back to Jimin and his bravery. I wanted to tell her about him but I couldn't form the words to explain it. I don't think I'm ready to talk about it. It's as if talking about it will make it more than just a nightmare. I don't want to accept what happened or face what will happen afterward.

If only I could remain here without a care in the world.

I finish my sherbet and set the empty container aside. I turn to face the frosted window, falling victim to the depths of my mind. I wonder if I can see Jimin again, I think to myself.

My mind compensates for not immediately seeing him. I find myself daydreaming of him and our next conversation if we are lucky enough to run into each other again. My thoughts feel light as clouds, almost like cotton candy instead of coherent words and ideas. The image of Jimin softens the sharp edges of our first meeting and I welcome the change.