Mental

xxvii.

"Ask us how we're doing," she said in a tone that implied that he was stupid, like a dog that had forgotten how to sit and roll over after its owner had gone on vacation and hadn't been there to give it treats every day.

"How are you doing?"

"Let's just skip past all these banal frivolities," she snapped despite them being done on her suggestion.

Hyungwon shifted in his metal folding chair. It was starting to dig into his hip. He was positive that it would have been stabbing into each vertebrae had he not been sitting up straight, his back not even touching the back of the chair. Years of dinnertime chastisement had drilled it into him. All the manners and lessons were coming back to him. Funny that he would prefer a mental institution to his home.

House, he meant. Not home.

"Are you fixed yet?" she asked, and Hyungwon just blinked at her, mouth slightly agape at the horribly insensitive nature of her question, not that he should have been surprised knowing her. "Don't look at me like that. I gave birth to you," she reminded him, a fact that she never ceased to hold over him. "Are you finished with all your lies and your inappropriate behavior?"

"My...inappropriate behavior..." Hyungwon knew she wasn't talking about the narcolepsy. They'd been dealing with that for years. She'd taken Hyungwon to good, reputable doctors, had spoken directly with school nurses, made sure that everyone knew that Hyungwon had a capable mother who was placing her eldest son in capable hands. Hyungwon had always had the strange feeling that she'd enjoyed his narcolepsy, which didn't make sense to him, but it had always seemed as though she had enjoyed being able to control various aspects of his life and remind him, as always, that she was his mother and she would take care of him and that it was only with her care that he survived and felt even the barest imitation of happiness.

It was like he was trapped in Plato's cave, only he was never allowed to leave, and he was forced to acknowledge the shadows as reality, even if his mind believed otherwise.

Her words, words Hyungwon had grown distracted from, must have been directed towards his dreams. "Mother, you can't expect me to...to fully recover-" Saying the words pained him because in some sweet, innocent part of his heart, he wanted to believe that there was truly nothing wrong with him. "-in just two weeks, that's not-"

"So you're still having them," she deduced, and Hyungwon felt his back sink slightly before forcing himself to sit up straighter, stiffening his spine. "The dreams," she said, her lip curling slightly before she hid her distaste with a cool mask of disappointment.

"Yes," Hyungwon said. He didn't know what else to say. The idea of lying to his parents- attempting to lie to his parents - was frightening. And besides, if Dr. Irving did end up listening in, he'd wonder if Hyungwon were lying to him.

"I don't understand," she said, pursing her lips. They were coated in a dark lipstick. The color, along with her pinned hair and sleek grey blazer, gave off a professional aura. Hyungwon couldn't remember a single moment in which she'd appeared to him not as a high-profile prosecuting attorney but as a mother. "What did we do wrong, Hyungwon?" she asked. Her voice made her words sound vulnerable, but Hyungwon knew that it was just the lawyer within her telling her how to craft a more effective argument, to target Hyungwon's weaknesses and insecurities, to pin the guilt on him.

Hyungwon remained silent. He knew that she'd find a way to use his words against him, and he didn't have any words that he wanted turned into knives that could be firmly and efficiently slid into his back, the back that still wasn't touching the metal folding chair.

"We gave you everything," she said. Hyungwon's father was silent at her side. He was a supporting role. She was the one with the power in their household. "We provided a good education, good medical assistance. When you were diagnosed with-" She paused as though the thought pained her emotionally; Hyungwon knew it did not. "-with...narcolepsy..." She sniffed, raising her nose slightly. "...we did everything in our power to make sure you had everything you needed to grow up healthy." Some parents might have said happy instead of healthy, but not Hyungwon's mom. "We taught you, raised you, sheltered you, and you repay us by..." She paused, at this moment truly at a loss for words. "You repay us by making up lie after lie about someone trying to kill you in your sleep, and even after we changed the locks and took you to a therapist to make it stop, you continually insisted on embarrassing our family name."

"You have Hyewon," Hyungwon said weakly, mentioning his older sister. "Isn't she-"

"You are our oldest son, Hyungwon," she cut him off, her eyes narrowing. "Hyewon is suitable to marry off, but after your father, you are the man of the house. You will inherit the Chae assets. And I will not stand for you humiliating our family."

Hyungwon was quiet. He was hesitant to bring up Kyungwon, his younger brother. He didn't want to involve him in this mess, but he knew that it was impossible not to. With Hyungwon slowly but surely becoming an embarrassment to their family, all of his parents expectations would be placed on Kyungwon instead.

Hyungwon felt bad for his younger brother. Not bad, just...guilty. Hyungwon hadn't enjoyed growing up in a strict household where he felt responsibilities, obligations, and expectations always weighing down on him, but he'd known that it was his cross to bear. He'd had his entire life to adjust to that. But, Kyungwon...Kyungwon had been given more freedom. And now, that freedom would be taken away.

Because of Hyungwon. Because of the dreams in Hyungwon's head.

Hyungwon's mother spoke a bit more on how much Hyungwon had failed them before looking at him with a grimace. "I hope that next time we talk, you'll be over this whole thing." She put the phone back on the wall, not angrily or clumsily, but with quick, knowing movements. Then she stood up, waiting before Hyungwon's father got to his feet before heading toward the door. It opened, they left, and it shut.

"Goodbye Mother, goodbye Father," Hyungwon said into the phone, staring down at the thin metal counter that ran beneath the glass divider. "I love you," he said. Then he put the phone back on the wall with his long, gentle fingers and turned to the ward guard.

"How much time is left?"

The ward guard checked his watch, his expression not quite readable to Hyungwon, not that Hyungwon was analyzing him. "Twelve minutes."

"Can I stay here for those twelve minutes?" Hyungwon asked. He didn't want to go back to the room yet. He needed time to recover.

"I'm sorry," the ward guard said, looking sincerely apologetic. "The next patient's visitors are already here, and we try not to keep them waiting, and since your visitors left..."

"That's right, you said once I hang up the phone, it's over," Hyungwon echoed softly, looking down at the ground. He was quiet for a moment before looking back up. "Okay. I'm ready to go now."

The ward guard frowned but nodded as Hyungwon stood up, and he lead Hyungwon back to their classroom.