Age of Death (Taennie)

31

Dad gripped me so tightly when we return to the hospital that it hurt. "Thank you." I heard him say to Haneul while my face was buried in his chest.

We waited, then. I didn't leave the room. I didn't speak. I closed my eyes and remembered Jennie: every moment of her i could think of. The day we met, the afternoons in my room, the trips to get ice cream and movies and even the laser tag. I recall it all into my memories. I made sure i never let her slip away.

Dad's phone rang several hours later, when my own phone said it was just past 4 in the morning.

"Thank you," he said as he ended the call, and then he walked to me and Haneul and told us. "That was jennie's dad. The surgeon told them that she's better than when she came in, but it still doesn't look good. They're still not sure how she'll do overnight. Jennie's parents are going to stay but-"

"I want to stay," I demanded immediately. Dad looked like he wanted to protest, but i cut him off. "You would've stayed with Mom." He fell silent at that. He had no argument for it.

"I'll go pick up some food and some pillows and blankets," Haneul offered.

"I won't eat," i told him, but dad nodded at him, nonetheless.

"Thank you, Haneul-ssi." Haneul left, and dad took a seat next to me, letting out a deep sigh. After a moment, he opened his mouth to speak.

"You know, when your Mom...." He paused and closed his eyes, letting out a slow exhale. Then he shook his head. "It still hurts to think about, but, um..Eventually you start remembering the good times rather then the one really bad time. And it aches, kind of like fading bruise, but it doesn't have that sharp sting anymore. If Jennie-"

"I don't think I can do this right now, dad," I murmured. "I can't."

"Okay,"

He rested his hand on my back and it felt heavy and uncomfortable, but I didn't complain.

"Why do you think bad things happen to good people?" I asked him abruptly. He took a moment to respond. "I don't know," he said. "As cruel as it is, I think it might just be."

"And you're okay with that? You go through life every day accepting that?"

He caresses my back. "I think i have to be okay with it. And I think that everyone struggles with it. Some people make themselves okay with it by believing that there's a God with a plan, and that hood people die because there's something better waiting on the other side. For those of us who dotn believe that....we just have to learn to be okay."

________

Haneul brought pillows and blankets back, but i didn't fall asleep for a while. Non of us did. I paced back and forth instead, restless, and dad stayed up to watch me, I knew, even if he didn't say it. I knew he was worried I'd leave again, but I didn't plan on it. I was going to see this through to the end, whatever happen.

I curled up in a chair in the corner of the room eventually and closed my eyes. I didn't believe in a God, I knew, because God was meant to be the epitome of everything good, and I couldn't believe anything good was holding the giant magnifying glass given the life I'd had. But i didn't believe anything wholly bad was responsible either. Haneul was right. It probably was just fate. But God and the Devil supposedly came with ears, so maybe fate did, too.

"Maybe you're not listening. Maybe you can't listen. But if you can, and you are...you can take whatever you want," i mouthed, my eyes still closed. "Take ten of my years. Take all of them. Just give her more time. She deserves more time. She wants it more than anyone. Give her just a little more time."

________

Jennie's parents came to our waiting room around noon the next day. I drifted in and out of sleep for a few hours up until then, but as soon as i saw them, i was alert. Their eyes were red and puffy, and their faces were no less tear-streaked than they had been when i saw them the night before. Jennie's mom approached me, offered a weak smile, and asked, "Would you like to see her?"

I opened and closed my mouth, stunned. "How-?"

"She's in and out of consciousness, but shes stable."

"What?" I shook my head, not daring to believe it. Was this another drowning? Was she meant to survive this? Was Mrs. Kim mistaken; was something going to go wrong?

"We'll wait for her here," dad cut in, nodding thankfully. I got to my feet and followed her. Jennie's dad stayed behind. We wound through hallways and passes nurses and beeping machines, and then into the ICU. Mrs. Kim led me to the last bed on the right, where a curtain shielded it from view, and then paused and took a deep breath. Then she pulled the curtain aside and let me go in alone.

Jennie was beaten and bruise and hooked up to more machines than i thought possible for a single person. I started crying on the spot as i moved to her side, and her eyes fluttered open to look at me. The top of her head was wrapped in bandages; a bandage was also covering her left cheek.

She opened her mouth, and, stunned, I realized that she could speak. "Oh, no, don't cry, Taehyung," She murmured. Her hand stretched out towards me and i took it, careful not to squeeze too tightly. "Don't cry."

I shook my head wordlessly, speechless, and for a minute or so, we didn't speak. I just watched her, tears streaming down my cheeks as her hand squeezed mine.

"Kuma has to stop slipping his colar and running out in front of cars during his bathroom breaks," she said. It was too soon for me to laugh. "He's in big trouble when i get home."

"Did they say you're going to be okay?" I asked her.

She cleared her throat, and then winced. Breathing seemed to be a little difficult for her, and she had a mask over her mouth. She was using her free hand to remove it over and over again when she spoke. "I heard them tell Mom and Dad that i died for a few seconds during surgery. Kid who hit me had a hood ornament that caught me in the lung. Lots of blood in lungs and one collapsed. Then lots of survey and stitches. Not good. But if I can survive all that, I think I'll be okay." She hesitated, and then joked, "Told you I wasn't going anywhere."

I studied her for a moment, my throat closing. I didn't dare to be hopeful even as I asked, "Are you allowed ot mess with your bandage?"

She let out a slow breath. "I hope so. It's itchy. It'd be great if you could adjust it a bit, actually."

I glanced toward the door to double check that Mrs. Kim wasn't coming in, then reached for jennie's left cheek bandage and gently tugged up the side until her cheek was exposed. The number rested there, clear as day, as though it had been there all along.

86.

_____

The end.