> Have you ever wondered about the unconscious?
Well, I do—every single day.
I live in my own world. Here, I'm in control. I can change everything—from my clothes, to the weather, to the view outside my window. I'm the lady of this place.
My name? Yumi Park. That's me.
But how did I end up in this strange state? I guess you deserve to know my story.
It started ten years ago. I was 14, just a regular middle school girl walking home. I'd said goodbye to my friends, humming a song as I crossed the street. Then I saw it—a tiny cat, barely dodging a car. I ran to save it, scooping it into my arms.
I didn't see the truck until it was too late.
Just light—blinding light—and the sky.
Then silence. Then the ground.
That was the moment I left the waking world behind.
They moved me to a recovery room, then to long-term care. Everyone thought I was gone.
But I'm still here.
I hear everything. I know everything. My body may be still, but my soul? It wanders.
You could say I have an astral body. No one can see me, but I see them.
Funny, right?
I can't do anything, not really. Can't move my limbs. Can't hold the ones I love.
My mom visits every day. Her eyes are always red from crying. She prays—begs—for me to wake up.
After I fell into the coma, my dad left us for another woman. Just like that. Never looked back.
My mom works two jobs to keep me alive.
My older brother—her only son—graduated college, got a job, and helps with the bills. He's my hero.
I wish I could tell him that.
Lately, I've been obsessed with this band—Yominer. Especially the lead singer, Jay. Handsome, talented, soulful. They debuted five years ago, and I've watched every music show, every performance.
You're probably wondering how I can keep up with pop culture while being in a coma.
Like I said—I have an astral body.
I walk through halls. I sit in corners. I listen. I feel.
Music is all I have, sometimes. Their lyrics heal in ways even doctors can't.
In the beginning, my friends used to visit. But time passes. People forget.
Except for one.
Suha.
She's quiet, but kind. Always has been. She visits me like clockwork, sits beside my bed, and talks like I'm awake.
That's real friendship, you know? Not the loud kind, but the loyal kind.
Sometimes, I forget what day it is. Time feels... weird here.
It stretches. Blurs. Folds in on itself.
But the feelings? They stay sharp. Like needles.
I still remember the first winter after the accident.
Snowflakes gathered on the hospital windowsill like tiny ghosts.
Mom had fallen asleep with her head on my bed, holding my hand like it could warm me up from the inside.
I wanted to tell her, "I'm still here. Don't cry."
But my lips wouldn't move.
So I escaped—into my dream world.
It's not always the same.
Some days, it looks like a garden. A palace. A beach at golden hour.
Other days, it's just an empty room.
A mirror.
A song.
I built it all in my mind—or whatever this place is. I'm not even sure anymore.
But lately... something's been changing.
A shadow has started showing up in my world.
Not scary. Not dark.
Just... unfamiliar.
At first, I thought I imagined it.
A figure standing at the edge of my dream garden, facing away from me.
He never says anything. He never turns around.
But he's always there when the song plays—the one by Yominer. The one Jay wrote about losing someone he couldn't save.
The lyrics wrap around me like a hug and a punch at the same time.
And each time the song fades... the boy fades too.
Who is he?
Why is he in my world?
Did I create him?
...Or did he find me?
I tried speaking to him once.
The boy in the dream.
"Who are you?" I whispered.
But he didn't answer.
Didn't flinch.
Didn't even breathe.
I stepped closer.
The wind stirred, soft like a sigh. My astral form didn't make sound—no footsteps, no heartbeat. I reached out a hand, trembling.
But just before I could touch him, he vanished.
Every. Time.
He was like a page half-written. Familiar, but unreadable.
And then last night... he spoke.
One word. Barely a breath. But it shattered the silence that's wrapped around me for years.
"Yumi."
My name.
He said my name.
It echoed through the dream world, bouncing off invisible walls I didn't know existed. I swear I felt it... inside my body. My real body. A tiny flicker in my chest. Like hope. Or fear. Or both.
Today, Suha visited again. She brought flowers. Yellow tulips.
She always says I liked them, but honestly, I don't remember.
Still, they smell like sunlight and something warm. Maybe I did love them.
She sat by my bed, rambling about college and her cat's obsession with tuna. I laughed in my head, but I couldn't move.
Then she leaned in, close to my ear.
"I heard Yominer is doing a private fan event downtown... Jay's supposed to be there."
My world stopped.
Jay. Again.
That name's become a rhythm in my world. A drumbeat in the background of every dream. I don't know why, but his voice feels like gravity. Like he's tethering me to something.
Maybe he's the reason I'm still here.
But why? Why him?
And more importantly...
Why now?
The hospital room faded. The air around me shimmered and shifted.
I was back in that dream space.
Same soft light. Same endless horizon.
And him.
That boy. Standing there. Still. Quiet. Like always.
But this time...
He turned.
Not enough for me to see his face—just the curve of his jaw, the shadow falling across his neck. His voice, deep and clear, sliced through the stillness.
"...Yumi."
I froze.
My name.
He said it again, this time softer. Almost like he didn't mean to.
"Yumi..."
My heart—my astral heart—pounded.
I stepped forward, trembling.
"You—You said my name," I stammered, my voice breaking.
"Do you know me?"
He didn't answer.
Didn't look at me.
Didn't move.
But I knew it wasn't random. He knew something. I could feel it in the air, in the way the dream pulsed like a heartbeat.
Back in the real world, something stirred.
Suha had left the room earlier, humming a Yominer song under her breath. One of Jay's solo tracks.
And now—there he was.
Not in my dream. Not in the hospital.
But on the TV.
A recorded interview playing on low volume from a nurse's phone across the room.
Jay sat there, hoodie up, face partially hidden by shadows and the brim of his cap. Only half his face visible. Still beautiful. Still unreadable.
The interviewer laughed. "You space out sometimes during concerts. Ever dreaming about someone?"
Jay chuckled.
"Maybe..."
He leaned back. Fingers tapping his thigh like he was nervous. Then, out of nowhere—
"Yumi."
The name slipped out.
The interviewer blinked. "Who?"
Jay froze.
"No one," he mumbled, shaking his head. "Just a name I've heard somewhere."
I gasped.
Did he...?
Was it just coincidence?
Or was I the echo in his dreams too?
Something inside me pulsed again. Sharper this time. Like a string being pulled tight. Like something was about to snap.
And then—for the first time since the accident...
My finger twitched.
Just a little.
But enough to feel the shift.
To be continued 💐