The faint roar of thunder penetrated through the thick walls of the institution. Barely audible it rang strong in the ears of TaeMin who found all his senses heightened as the child in his body grew. He could tell that Key heard it too by the way he jumped every time the sky laughed.
Longing for the clouds and the feel of water droplets on his body struck TaeMin hard. Was it still the same? Maybe it had changed like his body… Turned from something innocent into something contorted by the sick passion…
He groaned.
Another spasm clenched his spine and had him writhing beneath his blankets. The sounds he made pierced the silence soothing the carrier, pushing the gift of sleep further and further away. His pain persisted, if not continuing in his spin choosing instead to pulsate in the organ’s suffering from claustrophobia.
One intake of breath had him whimpering. The tips Key and Onew had fed him repeated in his head though his mantra won over in the end.
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.
Again and again, but he rarely ever got to reach his last number before discomfort overpowered him. It was a given that the more he grew stomach wise the more uncomfortable he was going to get – that TaeMin understood – but it was more than what Key had describe to him… It was like hell building a suburb in his body.
The baby didn’t seem okay with it either. It was almost as week as he was, but its small kicks and punches came often. Like it needed to announce its displeasure.
Fidgety baby, he’d come to calling it. He’d asked it to stop sometimes, though it wouldn’t listen… Nothing in his body listened to him any more…
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten…
“Are you okay?” Key croaked from his bed, bleary with sleep.
“I-I can’t sleep…” TaeMin whimpered. An attempt to turn on his side rocked his center off place and crumbled him to a gasping heap tangled in the bed sheet. “Everything hurts…”
“Where does it hut?” Key asked him.
“My back,” TaeMin started. He refrained from saying everywhere, knowing it wouldn’t help any, and chose to narrow in on his biggest pain.
“Have you tried putting a pillow in the curve of your back?”
“I can’t move…” Something clamped on an organ of TaeMin’s and his voice died out to a squeak; a door hinge carried by a gust of wind.
“Hold on… Let me try…” Key broke off as the limp noodles forming his arms strained to carry the weight of his torso. One, two, three tried it took just to get a good support with the mattress. Even then, his elbows trembled with the effort while sweat beaded on his upper lip. It was with one heaving intake of breath that he rose to a sitting position with his legs dangling off the edge of his bed. But even that small motion had bleached the grey colour out of Key’s face, leaving him pale like the ghost of his career.
“Don’t…” TaeMin managed to whisper, knowing Key couldn’t handle this right then. However, his words came too late. There was a seizure like twitch and then Key’s eyes rolled back in his head, leaving the whites to frighten the young boy, and the tension disappeared from his limbs. The gap between the beds wasn’t wide, but somehow Key’s frail frame slid through it. There was a perturbing thud sound upon floor – body contact that set TaeMin hyperventilating.
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten!
ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR, FIVE, SIX, SEVEN, EIGHT, NINE, TEN!
Silent screaming faces had stalked TaeMin in his nightmares. He couldn’t recall how or when he’d passed out. It must have been around the time Key had, but who would be able to confirm that?
Facts TaeMin did know was that the room was incredibly dark with not a single light illuminating the space. Its absence worried TaeMin who was already juggling many other unnecessary issues. One of them being where his roommate was…
“K-Key?” he whispered, craning his head to peek over the bed. His stomach wobbled like a Jell-O dish and the child in him punched his spleen (or something along the lines of his spleen) abruptly stopping his plans.
There was no stirring, not even a mumble of a response to reassure TaeMin. The kids at the orphanage would have called him pitiful if they could see how he was reaching desperately into the air for the other boy. One skeletal hand dangling over the side of his bed, as vulnerable as a bleeding fish baited for a shark, asking to be grabbed by anything.
“Key…” he croaked again.
No buzz from the ventilation system. No buzz from the lights… Odd… TaeMin wasn’t used to having such a still environment. Over his laboured breathing he wasn’t able to process any noise. There was occasionally the sound of what he guessed to be a buggy out in the hallway, but despite that (and the random shout or two) there was nothing. The silence was placating if TaeMin didn’t think too deeply about it. It was a challenge, however, as he couldn’t get passed the fact that he was in utter darkness.
“Dr. Park wants both of the checked?” a gruff voice asked.
As TaeMin heard it he saw the swing ajar, exposing the men workers clothed in scrubs and the sleek figure of the devil’s advocate. Her half moon glasses nearly lost in her hair which was pulled back in an uncharacteristic manner for the woman. She had rodent eyes glowering fires into TaeMin and he could hardly see her with the poor lighting.
With her hands firmly wrapped around her clipboard like she wanted to snap it she took brisk steps towards the beds, stopping a few feet in as the beds obstructed her path.
“Get him off the floor,” she ordered quietly.
TaeMin felt the fissures in the peace expand, cracking like ice and spreading to each corner of the frame holding it in place. Somewhere there were continental plates sliding over each other. They were inspired to move by the shaking undertone of the she-devil’s voice.
“I want him in the examination room in no less than five minutes.” The she-devil might as well have put her words in bold, underlined them and placed a heavy period at the end of her demand. The gravity of her horrid mood processed in the thick heads of the workers who wasted no time in pulling out a wheelchair to haul TaeMin around.
And the carrier did his best to comply with their needs. He flopped like a doll when needed and forced himself to move a limb as the puppeteers engineered a new, simplified way to fit him in the chair. And the second his bottom touched down they were off.
Nothing but the she-devil’s heels sounded in the halls. Barren and dank… No effervescent light reflected off the spotless tile; no machines beeped in the distance. TaeMin heard the roar of thunder again but for all he knew it could be his nerves pumping blood through his ears.
Even the examination room was devoid of all light. TaeMin only spotted the doctor because of the small flashlight he held in order to read the print in the papers he was holding.
“I’ll have you warned,” the doctor began, “that if you lose the files for any of the boys I’ll have you fired.”
“With all that’s been going on do you think I’ve had time to fool around with files?” questioned the she-devil in an equally frightening tone.
Crrrack continued the tiny fissures, following the numbers TaeMin was reciting in his head.
One crack, two cracks, three cracks four, five, six, seven, eight, nine ten… Again.
Lying on the metal table and absorbed in his counting he didn’t have time to speculate about the insults passing between the health professionals. Power… 1, 2, 3… Unemployment… 4, 5, 6. A file missing… 7, 8, 9. Water – lots and lots of water. 10.
And again.
“Check the opening. I want as much information as you can gather,” Dr. Park growled, separating himself from his assistant.
TaeMin braced himself for the invading touches, wondering how he was going to cope with them now that he was in his most fragile state. His body careened back and forth, his baby’s home feeling like it would detach itself as two men parted his legs. Fingers prodding sores, touching raw flesh that had rubbed clean off his body and made holes since he was always in the same position. Poor blood circulation had his pulse feeling weak beneath the chubby fingers of the stranger by his head.
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.
Numbers, letters, words, English – gibberish to TaeMin who was swallowing lumps of tears; whose toes were curling as flashlight beams illuminated his manmade genitals; cringing as they were held open by instruments of searing, cold metal.
“Swollen, case D, minor contusions,” one man called into the room.
“Pulse 90 over…” One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. “Pressure on the lungs and…” One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.
A hand gripped TaeMin’s forearm, keeping it raised half a foot and preventing him from moving. He wasn’t sure if they were afraid of him lashing out but if he’d been able to speak he’d have assured them that he would cooperate. At the very least, his inability to express this desire should have been enough for Satan’s henchmen.
“Seven months.”
Too long…
The hand held prisoner by the stout worker with the greasy hair tightened into a fist. One, two, three, four fingers and a thumb clenched until the circulation was cut and crescents dotted his palm. At the same time, TaeMin could sworn that his baby – the little alien child foetus – was clenching his fist as well. Soft fingernails digging into brand new flesh… Daddy was hurting, baby was crying, together they were fighting.
“Case three, observation; transfer room fourteen,” the she-devil read.
One… One, two, three, four…