A/N: Whew, this escalated quickly⊠I might have gone a lil overboard for a request this time but honestly, Iâm so happy how it turned out. There will be a second chapter soon; I usually donât do that with requests but I fell in love with the story and I didnât wanna keep you guys waiting any longer.
As of lately, I only have time for writing on the weekends. Iâm a paramedic now and I have lots of work to do so Iâm super duper sorry to keep everyone out there waiting. In addition to that, keep in mind that Iâm writing in english which is not my native language so I have to look things up etc. etc.
Please let me know what genre you wanna see on my blog more often. Constructive critisism is very much appreciated as always, and I hope you enjoy it! <3
Vision â âan experience in which you see things that do not exist physically, when your mind is affected powerfully by something such as deep religious thoughts or drugs or mental illnessâ
Brains. The human brain is the central organ of the human nervous system, and with the spinal cord makes up the central nervous system. It controls most of the activities of the body, processing, integrating, and coordinating the information it receives from the sense organs, and making decisions as to the instructions sent to the rest of the body. The relationship between the brain and the mind is a significant challenge both philosophically and scientifically. This is because of the difficulty in explaining how mental activities, such as thoughts and emotions, can be implemented by physical structures such as neurons and synapses, or by any other type of physical mechanism.
It is unknown where in the brain dreams originate, if there is a single origin for dreams or if multiple portions of the brain are involved, or what the purpose of dreaming is for the body or mind. Opinions about the meaning of dreams have varied and shifted through time and culture. Many endorse the Freudian theory of dreams â that dreams reveal insight into hidden desires and emotions. Other prominent theories include those suggesting that dreams assist in memory formation, problem solving, or simply are a product of random brain activation.
But, even though scientists have yet to discover the real purpose of dreaming, the human mind will always be a mystery and some mysteries will forever remain unexplained.
I woke up to the sound of birds chirping, face turned to the sun. A warm breeze was wafting through the window, giving away that summer was right around the corner. Out of all the seasons, summer had always been my favorite. Iâd always enjoyed the sun, the sting of it on my skin after a long day on the beach, the way its brightness lent a new look to whatever it touched. There was no shortage of sun in South Korea, but I came originally from London, and the cold rainy weathers there had left a permanent chill in my bones.
When I had moved to Seoul a couple of years ago, Iâd found the slight humidity on hot summer days far more to my liking than the rainy streets of my home city. Of course, as a paramedic in a busy city, married to the CEO of a big company, I didnât spend as much time outside in the sun as I might have liked. I even enjoyed the sweltering heat of July, when a breeze would feel like a hot flannel, and the evenings were spent on the large open balcony of the companyâs penthouse Jumin and I shared. But things had changed since then. Juminâs company had flourished, the annual income had sky-rocketed, and the penthouse had long since given way to bigger and better things. A year before, Jumin and I had moved into a ten million dollar mansion just outside Seoul, with a wide, rich green lawn and marble floors.
Now I was lying on the king-sized bed with silk sheets, taking in the warm sunrays that tickled my face. It felt good to sleep in for once, I hadnât had a day off for more than two months, but I was so captured in my routine that I hadnât noticed my exhaust until now. The daily night shifts were not only wearing me out, they had also destroyed my social life, and most importantly: my marriage. Not that I was complaining, I decided against the usual 9 to 5 job for a reason; because I wanted to do something meaningful with my life, something that I could be proud of when I was old and grey. But lately, Jumin and I had grown apart more and more. During the day, he was working at the company, seven days a week, while I was spending my nights in an ambulance. There was no time for us to live like a typical married couple. I would usually go to bed when he had already left for work, the sun just about to rise above the treetops of our garden. Sometimes I wondered what our marriage would be like if I had a normal job. We had become two strangers living a separate life in the same house. I donât regret marrying him; he was the love of my life by all means, but this wasnât the life I had pictured with him.
I was so used to his side of the bed being empty that today felt awfully strange waking up next to him. When I turned my head, his face was just inches apart from mine, his expression peaceful, and the black hair a perfect contrast to his white skin. And although I had always admired his handsome features, it pained me to look at him, knowing he would never look the same way at me.
When I couldnât bear to look at him any longer, I got up, careful not to wake him, and made my way over to the bathroom. I brushed my teeth, took a shower, dressed, and walked into the big open kitchen downstairs. Although I wasnât working in an office, I still heavily relied on caffeine to get me through my night shifts. During the months of working non-stop I had pushed my body to the limits, and coffee had helped me to push it just a little further. So just like every day, I brew myself a cup of steaming hot black coffee and went outside to enjoy it on the patio.
An hour later Jumin and I had breakfast together, but the heavy silence between us was slowly but surely depressing the mood.
âHowâs work?â I asked. Not because I was interested, but rather to break the silence. There was nothing to talk about other than our work, and even then it felt constrained to keep up a conversation.
He didnât look up from his plate, pushing the eggs around with his fork.
âGood. I intend to increase the funding of wine for cats for the next three months to help with the production.â
I nodded, studying his expression. The bags under his eyes had become darker since I last saw him and the 5 oâclock shadow made him look old.
âYou look awfulâŠâ I whispered, accidentally thinking out loud. For the first time this morning he lifted his head and looked me straight in the eye. The sudden sadness that crossed his face felt like a sting to my heart, but then it turned into a look of guilt and he quickly averted his gaze. He started poking around in his food again, then stopped and put down his cutlery.
His question came out of the blue but it drained the blood out of my face. I swallowed hard, his words ringing in my ears.
âWhat do you mean?â He knew I was playing dumb, but I wanted to avoid this kind of conversation.
He studied my face for a second. Then he repeated his question.
âRight now, are you happy?â
My cheeks started burning. I hated myself for taking so long to answer. A year before I would have confidently told him I was glad to be his wife, that I was happy being married to him, but over time the truth had started to settle in.
âNoâ I whispered, not daring to look at him.
This was not the life I wished for when I came to Korea. Although I loved him with all my heart, it was time for us to acknowledge the fact that we, as a couple, had to move on.
âAre you still in love with me?â The words came out of my mouth before I knew what I was saying. The silence that settled over us took the air right out of my lungs. A single tear was streaming down my cheek.
âI know you love me Jumin. But youâre not in love with me,â I sobbed, tears dripping down my chin, âyou never were. You just married me because of your father.â
I choked on my own words. I knew this wasnât fair, throwing these accusations at him. He furrowed his brows, eyes growing cold.
âThat is not true and you know it.â
âThen give me a reason to believe you!â I jumped up from my seat. âYou just grew attached to me because I listened to you. I was there when you were all alone. Iâve given you the affection your mother never gave you and I asked nothing in return. Because I loved you, Jumin. But all you ever cared about was your fatherâs company. And you married me because you wanted to make him proud.â
There was a moment of silence. It pained me to speak the truth but as soon as I did, I felt the weights lift off my shoulders.
âIâm tired of it, Jumin. I feel like you donât appreciate the things I do for you.â
âWhat am I supposed to do? Youâre being irrational and unfair right now, Maya. I think youâre overreacting.â
âOverreacting?â I clenched my jaw, âThen please correct me if Iâm wrong, but would you have married me if your father hadnât approved?â
âWhy do you care so much about the reason I married you? And what difference does that make?â he asked, raising his voice and jumping up from his seat as well. The fact that he didnât deny it left me stunned, although I had known it all along.
I studied his angry expression for a second, searching for any kind of affection left in his eyes. But all I could find was disappointment and guilt.
âAll the difference in the world.â Â It was a mere whisper but I made sure he heard it. For a split second I thought he was going to slap me. But he just took his coat, grabbed his keys from the counter and started tying his shoes.
âSo thatâs it? Youâre just going to walk away?â I desperately tried to stop him, but he was already out the door.
I ran through my mental list of things I needed to check, knowing Iâd done everything already. Windows locked, stove turned off, passport at hand. I felt edgy and ill at ease. I was no stranger to travelling, but this was different. This trip there wouldnât be anyone travelling beside me, not to mention I was visiting my family alone.
Driver Kim was late, but I had plenty of time to catch my flight. Still I found myself restlessly checking my phone, waiting for possible phone calls. Not that I was expecting any. The people who might have contacted me knew I was leaving the country, and the person I most wanted to talk to wouldnât be calling.
All at once I felt claustrophobic. I carried my bags outside, careful not to trip on the way down our front porch. The car pulled up as I closed the front door. It shut behind me with a solid thunk that had a sound of finality about it. I turned away without a backward glance and walked to where Driver Kim was opening the trunk.
Iâd be glad to leave, I thought. This was the first time since Iâd moved that I had felt the need to get away from Seoul. I needed to escape for a while, to put some distance between myself and my marriage. Besides which, Iâd not visited my family in years. I hoped this trip would be a way of bringing clarity to my mind. And of finding out if I was still in love with Jumin.
As I sat in the departure lounge at the airport, watching the slow and silent dance of aircraft through the plate glass window, I wondered what it would be like going back to England. After having lived in Korea for so long, I had not only adjusted to the country, but also became a part of it. My Korean had improved quite quickly over the past two years, and Iâd consider myself fairly fluent nowadays, but I still had a hard time understanding the airport announcements.
âAttention Ladies and Gentlemen, this is the pre-boarding announcement for flight 89B to London England. We are now inviting those passengers with small children, and any passengers requiring special assistance to begin boarding at this time, as well as passengers flying first class. Please have your boarding pass and identification ready. Regular boarding will begin in approximately ten minutes time. Thank you.â
Since Iâd booked a first class ticket, I took my bag and left to enter the plane.
I accompanied Jumin from time to time during his business trips, so I was used to travelling first class. The staff greeted me with a welcoming smile when I entered the plane and a stewardess helped me stow my bag. I sat down and took a deep breath. For the first time I felt as if I had made the wrong the decision. The thought of losing Jumin forever made my stomach twist, but we had to take a break from each other in order to rebuild our relationship and I knew that.
The plane was now ready for take-off and I braced myself for the harsh acceleration of the vehicle. I tightly shut my eyes and clutched the armrest next to me, accidentally grazing the hand of the man sitting next to me.
âAfraid of flying, huh?â he frowned at me. âActually, flying is much safer than driving; you can look it up on the internet.â
I didnât really pay attention to him. I wasnât afraid of flying, itâs just the loss of control that always made me slightly uncomfortable.
After about ten minutes, we had reached the altitude of 33,000 feet, the rattling of the plane had calmed down and so had my nerves. I put my headphones in, limiting the outside noises of talking people and clicking laptops, and soon enough drifted off to sleep.
I woke up to the sound of the captain speaking. âLadies and Gentlemen, we are currently experiencing some turbulence. Please fasten your seat belts right away, we apologize for the inconvenience. Thank you. â
Turbulences happen all the time so I wasnât particularly anxious, but for some reason I started feeling uneasy. I looked outside the window. It was already dark; I must have slept for at least two hours. The plane started to shake more violently and I was feeling more and more nauseous to the point where I felt like I had to throw up.
âExcuse me please,â I said to the man beside me who was nervously fidgeting with his tie. Safer than driving, huh? I thought as I stood up and squeezed through the row of seats into the aisle.
âMaâam you have to sit down during turbulenceâ, one of the flight attendants urged me but I ignored her and quickly disappeared into the bathroom. I closed the door behind me and was barely able to open the toilet seat, before I started throwing up. I didnât know why my body was reacting the way it did, Iâve never had issues during a flight.
I flushed and slowly pulled myself up on the sink next to me. My knees were so weak I was barely able to hold myself upright. I looked in the mirror, my face was as pale as ash and my whole body was shaking. The lights started flickering above my head. I took one last look in the mirror, before I quickly rinsed my mouth with water and prepared myself to leave the bathroom, when I felt the plane jolt and then drop. Then I heard screaming.
It took the air right out of my lungs. This isnât happening. My body started moving on its own when I opened the door. There was smoke everywhere, people frantically grabbing oxygen masks that were hanging from the tops. The flight attendants desperately tried calming down the panicking crowds of passengers to no avail. Then I saw the fire outside one of the windows. I stood there for a second, trying to process what was happening. But my mind was absolutely blank. I felt like a child again, I just wanted to wake up from this nightmare.
I locked myself into the bathroom again and slid down the door, face buried into my hands. The buzzing sound of my blood rushing through my ears drowned out the crying children from outside the door. All I could hear was my steady breathing. Soon enough I smelled the thick black smoke seeping into the room, tasted the bitterness on my lips, and I wondered if it was going to hurt.
The plane dropped again, I felt my stomach twist and turn inside of me. This is it, I thought. I closed my eyes and braced myself for the impact.