ONISM: THE FRUSTRATION OF BEING STUCK IN JUST ONE BODY, THAT INHABITS ONLY ONE PLACE AT A TIME

Once I read a novel called, it's kind of a funny story. The writer was Ned Vizzini, someone whose name I had never heard before. It wasn't much of a surprise though, as I was never an avid reader and that book was just something I had found in my sister's little collection. And I took that to pass the humdrum summer vacation of 2014.

Quite shockingly, I stuck to that book. When I finished I was deeply touched by the whole premise- which, was a boy wanting to attempt suicide and getting hospitalized in a mental institution, to find a whole bunch of unorthodox and 'crazy' people, namely, patients who changed his view of life, helped him to find himself.

I was so delighted that I searched up the writer on the internet, only to find that he had died the previous year of suicide.

It's kind of a funny story was taken from his own life. He only made it to thirty.

Humans were enigmatic creatures. You could barely understand an open person, let alone a reticent one like Wonho.

Hyungwon was sick. I wanted to reprimand myself because I knew he had gradually gotten to that point. I had been so focused on everything else that I failed to notice, or if I did, didn't act upon it when I saw him deteriorating.

Now that I finally took him in, my eyes searching his, taking in the sickly pallor, the countless resemblances with Alexander, I found my heart writhing in pain. I could barely breathe.

He had a high fever. And he refused to look at me even after being stuck to his bed. "You want to eat something?" I said, my voice strange to my own ears.

"You should go to him," he replied, voice barely audible. Then he let out a small sigh and focused on the empty and dilapidated wall by his side. "You don't have much time."

It was thirtieth October.

I hadn't met Chae Alexander ever since that talk in the public library, and I hadn't visited my part-time as well. I finally quit it. The job started with Hyungwon showing up in my life and ended with Alexander.

After that, Alexander had called once, Wonho, none. His number was out of reach, and it was becoming normal at this point not to expect to hear his voice anymore.

"When does it happen? The exact time he dies." I had never asked Hyungwon this question because even a few weeks ago it seemed to me it was not going to happen, or I had desperately tried to believe so.

"The first hours of November 1. From midnight to two or three in the morning." Hyungwon still had his face turned towards the wall.

"October 31st is the last day I can see him if I do?"

He didn't say anything in return, I wondered if he felt strange to look at me or if he bore a little grudge over me, for anything. I replaced the cold towel placed on his forehead and waited for the pain medicine to take its effect. His fever wasn't subsiding, it must have been tough for him to lay awake.

Or it could be that he couldn't sleep because of me sitting beside his bed on the floor, even then I couldn't leave him alone.

"Can you tell me now what I was like? In your time?" I asked tentatively. A slightly damp October wind blew in from his opened window and I saw him tugging in his blanket closely.

"Nice person," he said wryly.

"What kind of nice?" I felt selfish wanting to probe some answers out of him but I couldn't help myself.

"Nice mother, nice wife, that kind," his answer was short.

I couldn't connect with the person I was supposed to be. I had seen myself in Hyungwon's photo and there was no doubt that was indeed me, but I could barely make myself believe.

It was as if watching your reflection in the water of a pond, but there was a rock thrown in and the whirlpool it caused had made everything distorted.

"What do I do there? Am I a journalist?"

"No."

"Oh," I collected myself, taken aback by his abrupt and confident reply. "Do I travel? I mean, do 'we'?" As a family at least, it had been my dream to travel.

"You're an indoor person. You didn't even attend the yearly outdoor picnics our neighborhood community always arranged." He sounded a little bit annoyed as if I was asking him meaningless questions to which I always had the answers.

"Do I write?" I tried to hang on. "I write blogs from home, don't I? About places near us?"

He glanced at me for the first time, directly facing me. "You don't." Now even he sounded a little bemused.

A pang of sharp pain and disbelief hit me in the chest. Was he really talking about me? The reflection was not only distorted but of someone completely else.

"There's this blog I recently started here. It's called sunny's universe," I mumbled, almost to myself.

"I've never heard of it," Hyungwon said.

I felt completely defeated and out of words. Letting the topic aside, I rested the back of my palm on Hyungwon's forehead, and he laid still as if he was always accustomed to this; this thought just showed up in my head now.

His fever was subsiding, in fact, I could see a thin luster of sweat forming around his nose and cheekbone areas. I removed the wet towel and placed it on the water bowl beside his bed.

Hyungwon's eyes were closed shut, but I knew he wasn't sleeping. For the next few moments, we were completely silent, with only the slightly cold wind with the smell of dried leaves and earth visiting us from time to time.

"Do you think it's my fault... that you, that you-"I stammered, trying to find the right words and not to sound inconsiderate.

From what I had heard from him, I knew I lost myself long ago in his timeline. Maybe the exact moment Wonho died, or maybe before. I didn't know but maybe that's why saving Wonho mattered so much.

"What? That I got depression and anxiety?" He asked blatantly, but his voice was calm. "I don't think so. I had a family who loved me. Anxiety was what I had since I was a child. After the accident, my issues just worsened, that's all."

"Has it ever occurred to you? To stop the car crash from happening altogether, instead of this."

"Even if I stopped it, only the other I in another universe would get their parents to live. And also, having a doppelgänger existing in the same timeline could create grave consequences. I don't belong here yet, but in that timeline I already do."

"But wouldn't saving me; Wonho here only gives us a happy ending, not to the same person you're required to, but a copy of that same person?"

"You're still the same you," he replied solemnly, with a hint of agitation in his voice. "And I promised my father on his deathbed that I would find you."

Tears formed in my eyes for no reason at all, or maybe there was, in this universe I didn't know Chae Alexander well, but my heart swelled up with gratitude for him, and also for Hyungwon.

I looked at the boy's bony hand, palm up and limply laying by his side and at that moment I wanted nothing more than to squeeze his hand and tell him it was fine.

Although nothing was fine, everything was crumbling into pieces. I rose from my sitting position and gathered my cell phone.

"Isn't his number out of reach?" He meant Wonho.

"I am calling the others, his; our friends. If anyone wants to check up on him with me." Minhyuk's contact number was already lighting up my phone's screen.

That was just that, you can never understand a person. I couldn't fathom if I ought to give Wonho his own space as he wanted, or I had to force myself into his wall because deep inside he could be craving actual company.

Maybe it was selfish of me to try to understand him when he wanted to remain closed off, or trying to save him because I loved him and I couldn't imagine that distorted reflection being me, and also because Hyungwon had promised, to the dying Alexander.

"I am coming as well," Hyungwon sat up from his bed with some effort and wore his watch.

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A/n: been some time since i posted. How are you?