HYYH 1 Notes (ENG)

The Topmost Floor in the City (PT 1)

HoSeok
10 May Year 22

My narcolepsy occurred anytime, anywhere. I collapsed without
warning while working and blacked out suddenly on the street. I pretended that I wasn't so concerned about it in front of those who worried about me. I'd never told anyone that I couldn't bear to count to ten.

I always ended up having dreams
about Mom when I blacked out. The dreams were all alike. I was heading somewhere with Mom on a bus. I was excited and cheerful. I read the signs that passed by, watched her profile,
and kept fidgeting. I was about 7 in my dreams.

Then, it suddenly crossed my mind. Mom had left me. I was 20 when I realized that. Mom was still sitting in the seat in front of me on the bus. She looked exactly the same from behind. When I whispered "Mom," she turned her head as if she heard me. Her silhouette glimmered against the bright sunlight and her hair fluttered in the wind just like at the amusement park that day. The saddest part was that I knew. I knew that I would awake from this dream if she turned her head further and looked at me.

I tried to tell her not to turn around,
but my voice failed. I kept trying to shout. "Mom, don't turn around. Don't turn around." But she always turned around and looked at me. Just when our eyes were about to meet, everything turned white, and the
pale fluorescent light on the ceiling
of the hospital room appeared.

It was the same today. When I opened my eyes, the first thing that came into sight was the fluorescent light on the ceiling. I was changed into a patient gown. The doctor said I seemed to
have had a concussion and needed
a more thorough check. I was moved
to a six-person hospital room. I felt exhausted. I always felt exhausted when I regained consciousness.

JiMin
11 May Year 22

I was transferred to the surgery
ward about two weeks ago. At first,
it felt strange to see people coming
and going so freely. Soon, I found that
it was just another part of the hospital. There were patients, nurses, and doctors. I was given drugs and injections. All in all, it was about the same as the psychiatric ward. The
only difference was that the surgery ward had a longer hallway with a lounge halfway down. Of course,
there was one more major difference.
I was allowed to freely roam around the ward. At night, I sneaked out of
my room and wandered around. I jumped and danced in the lounge
and ran down the first-floor hallway
at full speed. These were simple joys that weren't allowed in the psychiatric ward.

One day, I discovered something strange about myself while I was running down the hall. At some
point past the kitchenette and emergency staircase, my body just came to a grinding halt for no reason.
I still had about five more steps to
reach the end, but I stopped and was unable to take another step. At the
end of the hallway was a door. The
door opened to the outside world. Outside the hospital. The door had no "Off Limits" sign, and no one came running to stop me. But I just couldn't go any further. I soon found out why. That was the stretch of the hallway
just like the psychiatric ward. As if a line was drawn on the floor, I came
to a stop at exactly that point, where
the psychiatric ward hallway would've ended.

They called me a good kid in the psychiatric ward. I sometimes had seizures, but mostly I was obedient.
I smiled and went on lying without anyone being the wiser. And I knew
my limit. The hallway of the psychiatric ward could be covered in 24 even strides. When I was first hospitalized,
I was 8. I cried and demanded to go home with Mom, holding onto the iron door at the end of the hallway. I frantically tried to open the door until the nurses came running and gave me an injection. For a while, the nurses tensed up whenever I stepped into the hall. Now, no one paid attention to me even if I ran down the hall and reached the door. I already knew that the door was locked anyways. I just kept running down to the door and coming back. I no longer begged them to open the door or wept.