Blue

8

"Where's Blue?!" I demand as soon as a doctor comes into the room.

"The sky is outside." He answers.

"Not the sky! Ansaek! Hwang Ansaek! My son, Blue!" I try sitting up, but I'm unable to move.

"Oh..." He grows quiet.

"Where is he?" I ask.

The man turns on the TV, switching it to the news. I cover my mouth at the image of my car flipped over, ripped open on the right, which is where his car seat was.

"-Officials say that the semi driver was indeed drunk, and arrested for DUI and the death of a child. The man in the car was on his way to work with his son when the semi blew in and crushed the boy, killing him instantly, while the father was lucky enough to be transported to the hospital, yelling about the color blue-"

"What?" I look at the man.

"I'm sorry, sir. Your son died on impact."

My heart shatters into a billion pieces. My son, the only child I've ever raised, who brought me joy and killed me every day with his sword, who played with me, is... gone? I'll never have that again?

What about Jisung?! What will he think?!

"He... d-died?" I ask, tears welling up in my eyes.

He nods. "I'm sorry. Your husband said he would be here shortly."

I feel my breathing become shallow and fast, the even beeping going faster, my hands trembling. I choke out a sob, covering my mouth with my hands.

After a couple minutes, the door open to Jisung, who was a crying mess. He slowly comes over to the hospital bed. I reach for him.

He lines a trail of stitches on my forehead, his hands shaking. I force myself to sit up and hug him. He lets himself melt into my body, ugly crying into my neck.

I squeeze him back, my hands around his shoulders and in his hair. He gasps for air, hiccuping. I press my face into his hair, deeply inhaling his flowery smell. He kisses me over and over.

"Blue..." I mumble.

"Where is he?" He asks.

I look at him with eyes that we're about to cry again. "I'm sorry." I sniffle.

"No..." He holds my face. "No. No! It's not -- no!"

I nod. "I'm so sorry!" I weep.

"What the hell?! I told you to stay home today!" He grabs my arms.

"I know!" I sniffle.

He grips his hair and gets up. He places around the room, then leaves the room. I cry quietly.

"Well, while I'm here, would you like to know your injuries?" The doctor asks.

I shrug, then flop back down. He pulls a chair up by my bed, holding some X-rays that had been printed out. He shows me each of them.

"Your left forearm was fractured right here, your right ankle was sprained and both hips were dislocated, your back was also sprained in a couple spots, but luckily no brain injuries."

"Doesn't feel lucky." I mumble.

"The fact you feel anything at all is a miracle. Your head was two inches from the wheels of that semi and if it had gone any farther, you'd have been crushed."

I wipe my eyes, sniffling. "I wanna go home." I look at him.

"You'll get discharged in a week if you're doing well. Okay?"

I shake my head. "I want my husband... I want my mom, too." I keep wiping my eyes as they keep getting watery.

"Would you like me to call your mother for you?"

I nod. I give him her number to call, then wait. I wait for something to happen. The only thing that happens is the monitor beeping steadily, reading my heart rate.