Spring Day | BTS ✔

07

I sat on the end of Namjoon's bed. He stared right through me, though I knew he didn't mean to. It was scary the first time I had woken up. The world was hazy and voices didn't make sense. There were loud sirens and I was sitting in a tree above a blue car that was far beyond the word 'totaled'. If it had been going any faster it would've wrapped right around the trunk.

I wasn't sure what was going on because last I knew, I was sitting awkwardly in that car with an old friend who I wasn't sure I could even call 'friend' anymore. I gained my memory back the longer I was awake, remembering the car that sent us spinning into the tree I had been sat in.

I thought that seeing my unconscious body being pulled out of a car wreck like that was the most terrifying thing I'd ever experienced. Then I realized that I could actually see my body from a third person view.

I – in whatever form I was in – was tethered to my body, which was made apparent when the ambulance began rushing off to the Seoul Center Hospital. The further away it got, the bigger the tug in my stomach became until it was so painful that I doubled over from it. When it stopped and I opened my eyes, I was in the ambulance standing over my body. I could see another ambulance out of the back window. It wad the one that held Namjoon as I later learned.

I strayed as far from my body as I could during the surgery, not wanting to see any of it. By the time it was all over, I was being wheeled off to the recovery ward alongside another gurney. We were both placed in beds that were facing each other on opposite sides of the room.

The first day, Namjoon woke up just before the present nurse's shift ended. She had overtime pay, but it didn't stop her from complaining about it to another nurse as they left. I wasn't sure of their exact words, but from the hand movements and her little 'reenactment' of Namjoon freaking out when he turned and saw my bed I could tell that's what the topic was on. I would've yelled at them if I could've.

The second day, Namjoon spent crying. He said some things to my unconscious body, but I couldn't make anything out. The hazy sound of everything never got any better. However, the images of everything became clearer. I felt like I was simply walking around, only I wasn't. I spent most of the second day watching the nurses until I decided to walk around the neighboring ward.

Just before the pull in my stomach became too uncomfortable, there was a room where little kids who couldn't leave the hospital played. They were mostly cancer patients, which saddened me, but they played so happily with one another that you could barely tell if they knew they were dying or not.

There was one kid, a girl who was around eleven or so, who liked to draw all day. Sometimes, she'd look up to the space where my presence was and stare for long hours. I was unsure if she could see me or not, but the way her eyes were the only ones that could focus on me made me think she could.

The third day, I sat where I usually did when she looked up at me. I smiled to her and she smiled back. Maybe she can see me after all.

My arms started tingling as the rain outside subsided slightly and I walked back to the room I shared with Namjoon. I watched a nurse move my hospital bed into somewhat of a sitting position. I was still laid back, but I knew by Namjoon's reaction that my face was visible to him again.

After the nurse left he began to cry slightly. Please don't cry Namjoon, I'm still here. I don't know when I'll be able to get back, but I will when I can, I promise. I heard him begin to hum after a long silence. It wasn't words so I could make it out just fine. It was an old song that I once loved. I had forgotten the words to it now, but I hadn't forgotten the melody. I hummed with him, sitting on the end of his bed. After a while he stopped, but I continued. I hoped he could hear me, though I knew it was a false hope.

I was no longer angry with him, or any of them. I wanted us all together again, happy and not afraid anymore. I didn't want him to worry or to be sad. I wanted him to know I was still there. Maybe I could alter something in the room to show him I was in front of him, something subtle, like the tiny dust, tiny dust floating in the air. Just something to let him know I had forgiven him even though I couldn't tell him that before the car crash.