𝐄𝐘𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐘

76 | in the blink of an eye

"Don't you want to be free?"  When the words leave my mouth I close my eyes tightly. My bottom lip rolls inwards and I bite on it to prevent any more tears from falling. A compulsive tremble overtakes my hands and my fingers are numbing up from clutching the plug. I'm unsure about everything but I know I have to do this. I need to end her torment. I can't be selfish anymore. My mother has suffered so much because of me. Even though my hand is pulling on the plug, the coward in me shows resistance. I don't have it in me to do it because pulling the plug will only confirm that I am the one who killed her.

I won't be able to forgive myself if I do it.

"Fuck." A tear escapes my eyes leaving a burning path on its way down my cheek. Biting down on the inside of my cheek, my fingers clench around the plug. Right now it's just me in a cold room and my mother's unconscious body resting on the hospital bed. My mind feels strangely blank yet at the same time it's bombarded with thoughts. A cakophony of visceral voices telling me what to and what not to do invade my mind.

Silence is truly deafening.

Pull the plug, I can hear my own voice say. Put an end to this.

"N—no, I can't." I manage and slowly release my hold on the cable.

It comes back. Pull the plug.

"No," I say firmly. I'm a fucking coward.

In a blink of an eye the hospital bed has disappeared. Everything is black.

Pull the plug.

The voice is louder.

Pull the plug.

Meaner.

I blink again and instead of being in the ICU room, I'm someplace else.

Pull the plug.

It only gets stronger.

I'm at the entrance of the old apartment I used to live in with my father after my mom got hospitalized. I look around light headed. My peripheral vision is foggy but I can still see clearly. An old Audi model with shattered windows is ahead of me. Mom is lying on the roof, her neck slightly tilted at the side with closed eyes. The roof of the car has a huge dent and my mother' hand is dangling loosely as red lines stain her fair skin. Her left leg looks broken. Her arms are filled with scratches, her shoulder is dislocated and on her forehead there's a little cut from which blood drips down on her temples and onto the glossy black surface.

My heart is beating expediently fast and my lungs are frozen. The very process of inhaling causes me pain as the air I inhale feels frigid.

What the hell am I doing here?

Even when I close my eyes I can't unsee the horrifying image in front of me.

Pale skin.

Disheveled hair.

The scratches on her arms and the cut on her forehead. Her fractured leg.

The blood on the shattered glass.

Blood on the cracked windshield.

Blood dropping on her hands.

Blood on my hands.

Blood everywhere.

I did this, I think to myself and my breathing quickens.

Pull the plug, the beast inside repeats coldly.

Somehow, hearing that voice is all it takes to jerk me back to reality.

"No !" I yell and in a blink of an eye I'm back in the ICU room. My mom is lying on the hospital bed with the life support machine next to her and tubes attached to her body.

I can't fucking believe what I was just going to do. I was so close to killing my own mother.

Mentally cursing myself, I step back from the machine and immediately let go of the cable. The door suddenly opens and Dr Kang comes inside with a nurse.

"I'm sorry for the interruption, but visiting hours are over. You must go now Mr Jeon."  The nurse says and I nod, my eyes glued to the floor.

What the hell just happened? It has been years since the last time I heard voices or fucking hallucinated for that matter.

I head to the chair and pick up my bag pack, slinging it over my shoulder. I caress my mother's hand one more time and wipe the tears from my face.

"Goodbye Mom." I say and pace towards the door. I respectfully bow at the doctors then walk out in the corridor. I can feel Dr Kang' gaze on me as I pace towards the stairs. I could have easily taken the elevator but I tend to avoid being at closed spaces. When I finally leave the hospital I run a hand through my hair and sigh.

I haven't heard voices since I was child, so what happened back in the hospital has shocked me to say the least. When I was younger, I would hear these strange voices from time to time when no one was there. Even when I was in a crowded place I was the only person that could hear noices that reminded me of teeth gritting, or nails being dragged across a surface, fingers tapping, water dripping, walls cracking—it was the craziest thing I've ever experienced. Those voices were more frequent when I was younger and more specifically from the age of five to eight. I would hear them during my teen years as well, but the noices were reduced to a great extent. But when they came back, silence was the most unbearable thing.

It was because of that voice, that my mom was in a comatose state for the last decade.

Because of my voice.

But why do I start hearing and seeing things now since I haven't in years?

What is so different this time?

I could never open up about this kind of thing back in the day. I had no one to talk to about the voices and the depressive thoughts that would take over me. Mental illness was a taboo subject, it was considered forbidden territory—uncharted land that nobody was willing to explore. No one would even dare talk about it let alone take it seriously, especially when it came from an 8 year old. I always wanted to tell my mom because she was the only person I could confide in, but I lost my chance. 

I've had my fair share of visits at the psychologist's office over the years and I've taken all the prescribed medication I needed to make these illusions stop. Father would attend the meetings whenever he had the time, but we never talked about it afterwards. The meds helped to a certain extent considering the drastic and overwhelming effects they had on me. Being on antidepressants was like constantly having a clouded mind and part of me was thankful for it. I would choose being numb over hearing those voices.

In a world where every individual is obligated to sacrifice their youth to get into college and then eventually find a stable job just to feed themselves and their family just shows how disrespected and failed we all are by society. The economy is going to shit and unemployment rises, increasing the hospitalization rate of people that are clinically diagnosed with depression, bipolar, bad anxiety or some other mental illness. In Korea, it's difficult to get long term treatment and at the local clinics interviews last for thirty minutes to an hour. When it comes to accessibility, Korea provides better access to mental health, but as far as technology is concerned other countries are more advanced.

Nevertheless, nobody can deny that the topic of mental illness and mental health overall is falsely overlooked. People typically respond by ignoring the topic and avoiding the conversation or by simply not believing. Humans fear the things they can't control so they push themselves in a corner and isolate themselves as a defense mechanism against the unknown. Sloth and curiosity motivates us to test certain theories and discover new ways to improve the quality of our lives and that's what makes us open minded to learning. 

They say that ignorance is bliss, but I disagree. Ignorance is a black cloth that covers our eyes the moment we are born and when the time comes we rip it off as soon as we get a taste of the real world. And then we need to get used to the aftertaste of despondency.

That's why I stopped taking the prescribed medication. Because I wanted to be in a state of total awareness. I was tired of living in a cloud, experiencing life from behind a layer of glass.

I was tired of being numb all the time.

wtf am i writing at 2:40 i wanna sleep
thank you for reading🖤 I really hope it makes sense~