Mimic Me

Lights, Cameras, Eat

With the hospital’s jasmine infused air fresheners and silky pillows I had never slept so well in my life. 

But of course, all good things come to an end.

A quick hand knocks at our door, awakening me. Drowsily, I get up from my bed, taping Jihoon’s shoulder.

 It’s 6:00.

Dinner time.

“Come in,” I called out once we’d rubbed the sleep from our eyes. 

A lady walks in, a warm smile across her face. That’s her job, to make patience feel at ease. 

Her soft manner doesn’t seem to work on Jihoon, the solemn look in his eyes never diminishes.

“It’s time for dinner. Soonyoung, you can go to the cafeteria. Jihoon, follow me,” She begins to head down the hall, Jihoon seems reluctant to join.

‘You’ve got this,’ I sign, not confident the words came out correctly.

He nods, sighing as he follows the nurse. 

I have to admit, I am nervous for him.

The nurses told me that the more Jihoon acts up, the longer he’d have to stay here.

Jihoon is a stubborn person, it’s very likely he will act up, maybe even worse than that.

If he lashes out on the care takers in the hospital or another patient, he’d have to go to one of those rooms with padded walls and floors. 

Going to one of those rooms would mean adding two weeks onto his stay. 

I use the ladle to pour beef broth soup into the bowl I’d been handed, along with a plate of fruit.

There are many different patients in this hospital. Some with anger issues, some with PTSD, some even with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder.

I feel like the odd one out.

Like a fish out of water.

I wonder what Jihoon’s eating, or if he’s refusing to eat. 

How do you get an anorexic to recover anyway?

I wave over a worker, the cheery one I’d seen earlier. 

“Hey, I remember you!” He grins, eyes bright.

I smile back over all of my concerns.

“Do you know where the anorexic patients go for dinner?” 

“I’m not sure I can tell you this sort of information,” He seems skeptical.

“Please? I have a friend over there, I’m worried about him,” Saying ‘friend’ when talking about Jihoon feels wrong. It shouldn’t, that’s what we are, friends. But it feels foreign. He’s not a friend, he’s Jihoon. Jihoon for whatever reason, I’m so incredibly worried about.

The caretaker thinks, before giving in. “All anorexic patients are brought to a room with nothing other than a table, chair, and a plate or food. Nobody stays in there with them.”

“Aren’t you guys afraid he’s not going to eat?”

“That’s just the point. The absence of workers feels like a chance for them to get out of eating. It helps to know they’re true intentions. But we do have a camera, so we can tell whether they eat or not.”

It’s honestly smart, sneaky, but smart. 

Jihoon is smart too, he could find a way to outsmart them. He outsmarted me for so long. What he said to me yesterday is completely true. He’s great at pretending.