Rewriting the Game

Treize

Soo-young kept sitting in the couch, ever so calmly, but her fingers were furious as they typed away. Her experiment, a heartbreak, which she theorized could be cured, or perhaps tweaked in the brain, was falling apart in the most interesting way.

Soo-young began questioning everything. If there was a cure, would it be right? To tamper with the memories, the emotions and the grieving of a human being? If there was a cure, would a mad woman like Ina Seele take it? Would the patient be better off?

Or, is it just another movement in medicine? Like a physical pain, it is right for a patient to receive the necessary anesthesia. Well, Soo-young has proven heartache to be a serious physical pain for a patient, must they receive anesthesia too? And if so, what kind? What in the brain must they tackle for a less painful recovery?

She looked above her laptop and watched Ina Seele, in the couch across, type in her computer. She's learnt a lot about her patient in the past few days. She isn't an alcoholic who did reckless things, but rather picks up obsessive compulsions, such as working day and night, drinking day and night, cleaning day and night, and so rotating in this constant self-destructing cycle without rest.

Soo-Young's thoughts were snapped apart when her cell phone began ringing. She stood up, put her MacBook down, and went to the kitchen to bring Ina her lunch.

Soo-young has also theorized that, if treated with cycle-breaking methods, the patient could function. But, the "functionality" part isn't quite... the best way. Whenever Soo-young would take care of Ina Seele, feed her, remind her to bathe, send her to bed, remind her to do mundane things, she realized it only caused her vital signs to sprout into this reckless action of migraines, endless tears, monotone, robot-like behavior, and emphasizing the need to indulge in obsessive behavior.

But if she left her be, in bed, all day, not worried if she ate or drank water, or if she slept or not, her vitals would shut down in a constant, silent but surely manageable heartbeats, and her migraines wouldn't be as constant. But she'd just be there, in bed, not alive.

But Soo-young has faith her subject of experiment could push through.

"Here is your lunch," Soo-young said, and stood behind her to her combing her hair while she ate.

"How do you feel?" Soo-young asked.

With a quivering of her full lips, her fingers twitched and begin typing shakily, "my head hurts again."

Fuck, Soo-young cussed.