solace - NCT PARK JISUNG

CHAPTER IX

JUNG JIWOO

"Hi Grandma," I mumble as I approach her bed. I, of course, do not expect a reply. She hasn't said anything for months.

I walk to the side of her bed and take the vase of flowers that have wilted over the weekend. I proceed to cleaning it and replacing the old set with a fresh bouquet.

I then take my usual place near the window and take the book that rests on the windowsill. I open it to where I left off and start reading out loud.

Slowly, one by one, the other patients turn in their beds, sit up, or approach me as they join in the listening party. Around 15 minutes later, I finish the chapter with a cliffhanger, mark the page, and close the book.

"You can't just end it there!" Mrs. Choi, the 43-year old patient next to my grandmother, exclaims. She arrived a month ago after suffering a blow to the head from a burglar. She's gone through multiple surgeries and I heard is to be released soon. Since her arrival, she has become the second most enthusiastic person when listening to me read.

I smile apologetically. "One chapter a day ma'am."

"But you aren't hear everyday," whines Ana, the youngest patient, who arrived two weeks ago because of seizures. I got to talk to her last week. She's only 8 and started developing epilepsy 2 years ago.

I chuckle lightly at her pouty face and place the book back near the window. The patients shuffle back to their beds with murmurs. I move my chair closer to my grandmother's bed, place my hands on the edge, and rest my cheek upon them. From this angle, I can barely see her face past the tube that has been in her mouth for months.

"Oh, did I miss it?"

The familiar voice makes the corners of my mouth curve up. Footsteps approach as I straighten my back.

She reads the room. "I suppose I did," Nurse Park, my number one enthusiast, mumbles sadly.

"Good afternoon ma'am," I greet with a slight bow of my head.

"Would it have hurt to wait?" she asks with a sigh.

I chuckle. She moves to check on the equipment of my grandmother. "You know how I am about being on time," I remind her.

She shrugs. "I thought you would make an exception for your biggest fan," she says with a wink.

My grin widens and I return to my previous position while she fixes up my grandmother with care.

"Do you think she'll wake up?" I want to ask, but I don't want people to think that I'm losing hope. Because I'm not, I can't. She has to wake up.

"How was school?" she asks me while adjusting the orientation of the vase full of fresh flowers. She moves them so the fading sunlight hits them directly.

"Good." It comes out even before I can think about it.

"Well that's a new word," she says, folding her arms across her chest. "What made it so different?"

I glance up at her. "What do you mean?"

"Your answers are usually: 'the usual' or 'same old, same old' or 'nothing new'. Or if you're feeling especially tired, you just shrug. Good is good, but why was it good?"

The first thing I note is that she just used good thrice in a sentence. My father always scolded me if I did anything of the sort.

Right, good. Why good?

I straighten my back and pause. I didn't really intend to say that, it just sort of slipped.

"I don't have a crush on him! I just said that without thinking!" I cry as my brother continues to tease me after I accidentally said that I like one of the guys from the upper levels.