The Flowers We Saw

Folding Love

The conversations were music. Traffic blared all around him. He heard none of it. Trapped behind a pickup truck that wouldn't budge Sehun punched the car horn continuously, screaming from the top of his lungs. And then his feet were thudding and thudding loudly against tiled flooring. His panting grew noisier. He started inhaling through his nose. Until he saw them.

His mom and dad in front of the surgery doors.

Sehun's ears popped. Noise flooded into his ears. Of hushed voices. Wheels rolling behind him. Bright yellow lights flooded above him. Splashing on the floor in spots of circular whites.

His legs were suddenly jelly. Sehun couldn't move toward his parents. He wanted to wake up from this horrible nightmare. It was the painkillers Namjoo had given him that was creating this crazy delusion.

Then the two gray doors automatically opened and a doctor in white stepped out. On instinct, his legs abruptly recovered propelling him forth. Removing his mask, the doctor sullenly bowed his head.

"The situation isn't improving," he quietly explained, "please prepare for the worst."

Some animal cry flew out of his mother's mouth. Like some carnage her legs lost strength and she collapse to the floor. His father quickly knelt down to hug her, help pull her to her feet. When his old man straightened Sehun saw his face was streaked with tears. His mother first lashed. Beating his chest with hardened fists, screaming animosity at him. Words Sehun couldn't convey to heart or to some kind of understanding in his brain, but he knew she was blaming him.

Sehun stood unmoved. Even if his entire body hurt. The healing cuts reopened and bled again, but none of it hurt as much as facing the fact he never made it for his sister.

He stayed passing the time. Watching as they wheeled Hayoung out. They'd covered her with a white blanket. Pausing a moment outside the surgery room. Allowing his parents to remove the blanket to see the daughter they had put six feet under.

Sehun lost it when saw her bruised face. Welling with tears and nonstop pain. It ravaged him like the claws of a tiger tearing his meat apart. Savoring each bite with its powerful jaw. Breaking him into pieces until he finished bleeding.

Crying grief and anguish. Everything rushed through him at infinite speed cruelly. Sobbing loudly, he covered his tear streaked face. He couldn't stop. Put the tap back on the faucet. Turn it off.

A hand landed on his shoulder. He saw his father. For the first time comforting him. "Go home." He gently said. "Go get some rest. Your mother and I have to figure out the rest from here on."

"I'll stay." Sehun offered. "I can stay and help."

"Go home first." He told. "Then you can come back."

His father nodded his head. A quiet promise that the old man would not bar him from involving himself in this final parting.

Steeling himself Sehun stopped by the bathroom. Washing his hands for no reason. Splashed water on his face. Catching sight of his pale face in the mirror as he turned to leave. Without thinking he drove right over to Namjoo's. He'd stay home until she returned from the restaurant.

But...Namjoo was already home. He saw her scrubbing the table pointlessly with a damp rag. Kihoon was in the living room glued in front of the television.

His lips quivered and the well inside him broke when she looked at him. Tearing up he dashed toward her. Namjoo put her arms around him as he hugged her. Sobbing violently into her hair, drenching her shoulder. Shaking against her.

"She didn't make it," he cried. "She didn't make it."

Palming a hand against his back she held him quietly. He didn't need her to say it was ok.