Lifetime

Panic

I was hoping that I would wake the next morning in my own bed, to the sound of both of my parents as they got ready or my mom's voice echoing from the kitchen as she sang. When I opened my eyes, my face achy and tight as I stared back at Hobi's, I wanted to scream again.

I watched him sleep for a few minutes, putting my attention on the flat line of his mouth and pointed tip of his nose. I sat up in his bed, looking out the window where I could see into my yard, only my dad and aunts' cars parked out front.

His eyes fluttered open after feeling me shift in the bed and he sat up, brushing a few strands of hair away from my face. "Hey." He sighed, sliding his fingers between mine.

"Hoseok!" His mom's voice and door closing sounded from the front of the house.

He scurried off to answer her, returning a few minutes later with two bags that held new frames for his posters. He sat on the floor, pulling the broken frames into reach, starting to remove the broken edges.

"What happened?" I asked, tilting my head in curiosity.

He looked up at me for a second, the usual sunshine that radiated from his eyes and smile gone, replaced with a heavy, saddened look. "I could hear you yesterday, when you found out." He left everything on the floor to come sit across from me. "I'm so mad that this is happening to you, Sel, and I don't have anyone to be mad at. I'm mad at the universe and I don't know what to do with that."

It all started to connect, the cut on his hand, shattered frames and anger he shared being a part of his response to hearing me at the worst moment of my life. I couldn't fathom how much it broke my heart, while at the same time turning the campfire into a forest fire, taking over everything in its path.

I ventured back to my house that afternoon, knowing I needed to be there to support my dad. I changed out of the lounge clothes I'd been wearing since before I found out into a simple t-shirt and jeans, joining my extended family and acquaintances of my mom who gathered all around our home.

My aunt busied herself in the kitchen, rearranging the refrigerator to make room for the never-ending pile of food while my grandmother appeared just as I always saw her, the epitome of strength and grace. My dad actually looked like half of himself was missing, dazed and distracted as people offered hugs, cards, and words of sympathy.

I sat on the couch next to Hobi, who moved back and forth from the kitchen to his seat with continuous refills of his plate, the opposite of me as he scarfed down every feeling he had, food the last thing on my mind.

The coming days seemed like an eternity, blurring together into one big lump of time, the scene in front of me nearly the same but replaced with different guests who said the same three things. I'm so sorry for your loss. She's in a better place. Be strong for your father.

Hobi stayed with me through it all, begging and then forcing me to eat a piece of toast in front of him after I hadn't touched food for two days, walking me into the funeral, and letting me stay in his room on the days I couldn't bear to be in our house any longer.

Those first days were hard, but the quiet that took over the week after was even worse. We had to throw out half of the food people brought, spoiling before we could get to most of it. My dad and I sat with each other through the times we were overcome with emotion. I would burst at the thought of the moments in my life she would miss and the times I knew I'd need her, my dad often overcome with guilt that he didn't fight harder to make the drive that morning, that he'd ever come up with the idea for those sandwiches with the specialty jam.

After three weeks my dad returned to the restaurant on a reduced schedule, giving me an extra long hug before grabbing his keys off the hook. "Are you sure you'll be okay if I go to work? I can stay or you can come with me." He offered again for the third time that morning.

"I'll be fine, plus you're only going in for a few hours. I'll probably just read the entire time." I kissed his cheek, trying to give a small smile that would assure him.

"Okay, but just call me if you need me to come back home." He called out as I watched him walk down the driveway and to his car.

I wasn't okay. From the second I closed the front door and turned around I was picturing her, first sitting at the dining table with her glasses hanging at her nose as she worked on the accounting for the restaurant. Then in the kitchen, singing Ain't No Mountain High Enough into the whisk while she cooked. In the living room, having fallen asleep with an open book over her chest and the bathroom, speaking affirmations into the mirror while she went through her nightly skin routine. By the time I made it to my bedroom I was having a full panic attack, rambling to myself and trying to talk myself out of it as I climbed through the window to one place absent of her.

Hobi started keeping his window cracked for me around the clock and when I climbed in, finding his room empty I was reminded of that day. My breathing quickened as I paced across his floor, first counting down from sixty and pinching at my fingertips in an effort to bring calm, my head so loud with thoughts that I hadn't heard the shower running from the hall.

The sound of Hobi humming as he walked back to his room was the first thing I was able to notice.

He flinched when he pulled the towel he was using to dry his hair down, looking up at me. "Sel, are you okay?" He moved immediately into alarm.

"I just need something to distract me. I can't stop thinking. Just talk about something, anything else." I spoke faster than typical.

"Like what?" He asked. When I let out a frustrated groan he raked a hand through his hair, trying to think of something. "I just finished this book I was reading. It's called The Firekeeper's Daughter. At the end there was this big plot twist. Basically the main character starts helping this undercover cop investigate drug distribution in her community after her friend is killed. She finds out that her brother is one of the people in charge of it, and they kidnap her and the cop. The brother and another guy go to jail over it, but the main guy in charge escapes. It's got all of these huge messages relating to indigenous communities and the law. It was really good."

I sighed, hearing him but the words barely penetrated. "It's not working. Try something else." I pleaded while rubbing my feet on his carpet, attempting to move from my head into a bodily experience that would ground me in the present moment.

He noticed me trying to find a way to move my attention toward a physical feeling, sitting next to me on the bed. "I'm sorry." He spoke before putting both of his hands on my face and pulling me to him, his lips fervent as he kissed me harder than he ever had, his intention fulfilled with the forest fire of love for him that brought me to.