Jimin p.o.v
We burned,
--
"And then, they seemed to disappear faster than before." I confessed to Yoongi.
He nodded and pulled out a long list of diseases and syndromes that mocked me;
Dementia, depression, mild cognitive impairment,
Alzheimer's disease.
"It's too early for me to diagnose you, but this is indeed something very serious, Jimin." He seriously informed.
"It can't be something mild because you're only twenty seven and with the severity you're describing, it's been brewing for a long time."
I kept silent, choosing to stare at the list of words, trying to fold them to memory.
Yoongi then conducted his first test. I was supposed to remember a given person's name, address, age and occupation.
"Aaron Henderson. 142 Orchard Drive. 20. Chef."
And then for the next few minutes, he informed me of his suspicions.
"I don't want to diagnose you right away, but I am suspecting,"
He gulped and bit his lip.
"Alzheimer's disease."
And that was enough to make me lose my mind.
I picked up the cup of coffee and threw it against the door. Dark liquid trickled against the white paint, mocking the tears that followed.
In the medical world, we all knew what that meant.
That parts of my brain were shutting down and there was no cure. That the longer I live, the more I'd forget, the more closer I was to death.
"Jimin, can you repeat the information I told you three minutes ago?"
This was it. The test that determined my fate.
"I-I"
I stared at Yoongi's expressionless face, but the drumming of his fingers gave away the nervousness he was feeling.
"I don't remember."
My dry tongue spoke and my hands sweat like hell.
Yoongi remained expressionless, but he was in fact, pained. That he had to be the one to witness this.
"I'm not giving up yet. Let's take a CT scan of your brain."
》
The CT scan came clear. Meaning I had no tumours or cancer.
Meaning it was definitely Alzheimer's.
Yoongi even conducted memory tests, each and every kind of them, not giving up hope that maybe this was just a temporary mind fuck.
But we both were surgeons. We knew.
Yoongi came back with a bundle of pamphlets and records.
"I need to check one more thing to officially diagnose you and that's your family history. But unfortunately, I can't find anything about your father." He sternly asked.
"He died of an unknown heart disease."
His expression darkened.
"No he didn't."
"What are you saying?"
He looked down at the record and said,
"If he died of an unknown heart disease, it would say so. But your father, he didn't die in the presence of doctors."
"Maybe t--"
"And neither was it at a hospital."
What the hell? But my mum had sa--
"He died at home."
》
I knocked at the door, trying to keep my patience. I hadn't visited my mother ever since she set me up on that secret date.
The door opened to reveal my mother. She looked happy to see me, until she saw a grim looking Yoongi waiting in his car outside that she knew something was up.
I walked into the house, not having lived here in years because I moved out in my own condo close to the hospital.
She looked shaken.
As soon as we both sat down, I asked her,
"Why'd you lie?"
And she knew. She knew she fucking lied to me about my father's death.
"Mum. . .why?" I was trying extremely hard not to lash out, but I'd failed to save Hoseok, Jungkook left me, Yoongi thinks I have Alzheimer's, and now my own mother lied to me about my father's death?
"You were four years old, Jimin. It would be difficult to tell you the truth." She calmly said.
"What's the truth?" I gritted.
She exhaled slowly.
"Your father, h-he didn't die of a heart disease."
She clenched the hem of her shirt and squeezed her eyes.
"When we first married, he was fine. Even if I could go back in time, I would have never noticed."
She smiled to herself, recalling memories.
"But soon, he would forget his way home and call me. And then, forget dates like his birthday, our anniversary, bill days."
"I was already pregnant with you when we found out."
She reached across and took my hand in hers, gripping it.
"Your father had Alzheimer's."
"When you were born, it wasn't all that serious until you turned three years old. The disease was taking over faster than ever. H-he even forgot you were his son once," her voice cracked.
This was hard for her to speak of, but I had to know.
"When you were four, finally going to school, I was in the front lawn, gardening. Your father was in the second last stage and could barely form proper words. Just a few sounds here and there."
She wiped her tears and looked down at her finger. Even today, she still wore her wedding ring.
"I shouldn't have let him out of my sight. . ." she cried.
I gave her an encouraging nod and she continued.
"He was sitting beside me, looking up at the sky."
She closed her eyes.
"For just a few minutes, I let him out of my sight, going to fill up the watering can. Until I heard a loud thud."
Oh no.
"Your father had been chasing a butterfly. I figured out a few days later the word he was trying to say."
" 'fly'. "
Lord, no.
"So he climbed the ladder that stood against the house to the roof,"
She cried hysterically in the living room,
"A-And he jumped. ."
"My God," I whispered to myself.
So that's why I have Alzheimer's. Because my father had it as well.
It was genetic. It was inevitable since the day I was born. My fate had already been decided.
I looked down at my lab coat and the name tag that read,
Dr. Park Jimin,
Cardiothoracic surgeon.
All that for
nothing. . .
"You could have, could have at least told me when I got older!" I yelled.
"All this for nothing! My years of hard work, letting my youth rot away in those text books and sleepless nights!"
"All that for fucking nothing!" I screamed.
I stood up and buried my fingers in my hair.
"You could have fucking told me when I got older! That Jimin, don't become a damn doctor because your brain will fucking eat itself alive!"
I screamed loudly, letting my mother's sobs echo throughout the room.
My mother bowed her head and whispered she was sorry.
"I have to go," I quietly said.
"Jimin, please, I'm sorry." She cried after me.
I let the door shut behind me.
--
we crashed.