reminisce | e'dawn. [🗸]

[chapter one]

Jinho;

I stepped out of those big glass doors for the first time.

The air around me was gelid and polluted. Not how I had imagined it, but still better than the harsh smell of isopropyl alcohol that made my face lose its color every time.

Earlier, I overheard Dr. Kim speaking to the pretty lady that kept checking in on me. He had told her Hyojong was the same as he had always been, but this time around, it'd be like he had been born as a highschooler. He'd need some grease for his hinges, Dr. Kim said.

"Mrs. Kim, why don't we show Hyojong to the parking garage?" It was a different voice now that sounded from behind me. One that needed to cough, for it was so raspy.

The lady, Mrs. Kim, nodded her head and smiled tightly my way, connecting her eyes with mine. I returned the gesture, though I tend to believe my smile was more genuine.

"Hyojong, come this way," she instructed me, holding out her arm for me. It was crooked so that I could fit my arm through, so I obliged. She was only two inches shorter than me.

We started walking. We crossed the street, interrupting the light traffic, and walked a block or two to the second-nearest building. It had several levels, more than I could count, and a big letter B on the entrance. "B," I repeated.

"That's the parking garage my car is in," Mrs. Kim told me. "Garage A was too full."

"Are they both for hospital patients?" I asked.

"Mostly, yes."

"That's a shame."

There were many stairs we had to climb until we reached the story Mrs. Kim's car was on. I was huffing by the time she guided me into the vehicle, and my heart rate had risen significantly. I should exercise more, outside of physical therapy.

"Hyojong, do you know my name?" the same raspy voice addressed me. I jumped, for I was under the impression Mrs. Kim and I were alone now, and spun around in my seat, seeing the man who was standing with Mrs. Kim and me outside the hospital. He was somewhat young despite the damage done to his vocal cords. I bet he smoked.

"No, sir," I said, ashamed. I was still facing him, so Mrs. Kim made a signal for me to fix my posture.

"I'm Mr. Jung. Pleased to meet you, Hyojong," he smiled. In order to keep Mrs. Kim satisfied, I used the rearview mirror to look at Mr. Jung. Mrs. Kim snapped my hand away from it the second I angled it towards myself. Then, Mr. Jung chuckled with a low, rather creepy voice, "Easy, Hyemi. He's not gotten a chance to use manners yet."

Mrs. Kim pulled out of the garage wordlessly and maneuvered us some place she told me was my home. And apparently, it had been my home for a while, I just couldn't remember it. She lived there, too, with a Mr. Kim and a Siamese cat named Bomi.

The road blurred as we transcended it. There were flashy red, yellow, blue, and green street signs everywhere, but I couldn't read them in time. Browning tree leaves fell on the windshield and made Mrs. Kim curse under her breath. She seemed awfully frustrated ever since she'd been told Hyojong was going to be infant-like. Frankly, all the hospital workers used my name lightly, but now anything corresponding to "Hyojong" seemed unwanted; I was suddenly the infant Mrs. Kim didn't ask for.

Mr. Jung and Mrs. Kim conversed stiffly between the driver's seat and the back seat, and I was listening with interest. The only kind of talk I'd been able to listen to at the hospital was weather reports and updates from Dr. Kim to Mrs. Kim. This time, the raspy voice and the uptight voice were chatting about work. From this, I learned Mrs. Kim was a florist.