ー章.
she never believed in a heaven.
never recalled believe in anything really. she never knew if there was something beyond death or not, liked to think there wasn't anything. but while she still had her brain intact, she thought of jeongguk.
she thought of the stars he mentioned, the wedge between heaven and earth. that's where he was, and that's where she wanted to be. she wanted to be right beside him, right with him. the only thing she wanted to be able to hear were their heartbeats and steady breaths.
instead, michi couldn't hear anything. not even her own heartbeat. not even her own breath. and for awhile it was silent, for awhile it was nothing was darkness.
and then there was excruciating pain from her head. it felt like something worse than a migraine ー a pain at least a million times worse. then she felt pressure, god, she felt it. so much pressure. it felt like something was squeezing her head, like it was holding it together.
then finally, there was sound. and sight. sound; she could hear nurses talking, doctors too. she could hear her mother telling her that she was gonna be okay. she could hear another unfamiliar voice, too. it was coming from a boy. but it didn't sound like jeongguk.
she could hear nurses telling everyone to move out of the way, her mother's screams and cries. she could hear her own heartbeat now. she couldn't hear her own breathing yet.
sight; she could see a bright, white light shining down on her. it was blinding and she kept closing her eyes. fading in and out of unconsciousness. she could see the faces of the nurses and doctors now, the face of her mother. and she could finally see the face of the boy she'd never seen before.
blond hair, small frame, pale skin. she wondered who he was. she couldn't recognize him. she could see arms above her, shifted her eyes up to see a man ー a doctor ー with an expression that showed determination.
she felt the pressure in her head again, and the pain. and she realized that they were doing just what she thought they were doing. trying to hold her head together. trying to keep her head secure. trying to stop the bleeding.
she couldn't remember what she had done, but she figured it had something to do with her head. she didn't think she'd shot herself. didn't have a gun in the house, nor did she know where to find a gun. something else. she'd done something else.
michi felt tired. a wave of drowsiness hit her like a tsunami. and the last time she faded into unconsciousness was the last time she'd remembered seeing that bright, white light. was the last time she heard her heartbeat. was the last time she felt the pain and the pressure on her head.
she had hoped to be dead.
had hoped to wake up next to jeongguk.
