Tears – H
Some nightmares felt natural, like they were eating away at her, depleting the power she'd created for herself. It wasn't fair; she had no idea of this world, the world she had come to know.
Bak Yuna replaces Sierra Smith, defined by her many therapists. Her new family was well-known for its association with the most prominent corporations, the lawyer's incorporation, of which she will soon be in charge.
She barely recalls bits and parts of her past, and when she had pondered her 'parents,' they had to assume she was sick. Maybe the world doesn't exist, yet she wondered how such a recollection could be so natural.
"I despise individuals like you who are always terrified of dying, but prefer to make decisions that will lead to death," a voice filled with venom said.
Things like this are just dreams. Right.
"Ms. Smith, I want to help you. I do. But for me to do that, you need to open up and tell me exactly what you've been experiencing," the therapist, Lisa, says with a gentle yet firm tone. She looks at Ms. Smith with a kind expression, jotting down some notes on her paper as she listens intently.
Ms. Smith looks back at Lisa with a mixture of fear and desperation in her eyes. She knows that she must share her deepest thoughts and feelings with Lisa for her to receive the help she needs, but it's not an easy task. She takes a deep breath and sighs.
"I don't know...this person in my dreams, I've seen him before," Ms. Smith starts, her voice trembling. Lisa nods understandingly, encouraging her to continue.
"You might know this individual, or have seen him walking down the street. Your brain may be interpreting someone or something from your past as this person in your dreams," Lisa explains, trying to ease Ms. Smith's worries.
Ms. Smith only gives a small nod, still struggling to find the words to describe her experiences. For a few moments, she stares off into the distance, lost in her thoughts. Suddenly, her phone rings, interrupting the session.
"Can you give me a second? My father is calling," Ms. Smith asks, her voice shaking. Lisa nods, allowing her to take the call. But before she does, Lisa quickly jots down some notes, not wanting to forget anything important.
Ms. Smith answers the phone, her voice sounding strained and tired. She's been dealing with a lot lately.
"You have a meeting with the advisors and me at noon today. I know you don't live with us anymore, but you need to attend; please make sure you dress nicely, sweetie," her father's voice echoes through the phone. Ms. Smith lets out a small, sad laugh.
"Yes, Father, I'll be there. I am currently at the H.K. hospital for my weekly appointment," she informs him, her voice filled with exhaustion.
"Sweetie, there are just horrible dreams, don't stress over them, OK? See you there. Love you," her father says before hanging up. Ms. Smith takes a deep breath and turns to face Lisa once again.
"Sierra, you've been coming to these appointments since you were 15 years old. Now, at 22, it's been seven years, and I see no improvement in your health. I've been advised to transfer you to C.Q.Q Hospital, where they specialize in treating therapeutic memories like yours," Lisa says sadly, her heart aching for her patient. She knows that Ms. Smith has been through so much, and she wants to help her in any way she can.
Ms. Smith can't help but feel a sense of sadness and fear at the thought of leaving Lisa, who has become more than just a therapist to her. She trusts her and relies on her for support and guidance.
Lisa continues, "They have advanced techniques and therapies that may be able to help you more than I can. Could you get better, Sierra? You deserve to live a happy and fulfilling life."
Tears begin to fall on Ms. Smith's cheeks as she realizes that this may be her last session with Lisa. She has grown to trust and rely on her, and the thought of starting over with a new therapist is daunting.
"Lisa, we talked about this—"
Sierra sat in her therapist's office, feeling defeated and lost. She had been coming to these sessions for months, trying to work through her issues and improve her mental health. But now, her therapist was telling her that she needed to take a different approach. She couldn't help but feel frustrated and overwhelmed.
"Look, I want to help you," her therapist said, her voice filled with concern. "But the higher-ups I work with want to fire me because there is no improvement status from you, making me look bad." She ends.
Sierra's heart sank. She knew she had been struggling, but she didn't want to be the reason for someone else's job loss. Her therapist took a piece of paper and wrote something down on it, her expression sad.
"You are to call this number, and they'll know who you are immediately. You have to meet Mr. Kim. You don't have to go if you don't want to, but I can't make an appointment with you, and that's as a professional and not as your friend. I am sorry," her therapist said, handing her the piece of paper.
Sierra took the paper and looked down at the number with wide eyes. Her throat felt dry, and the thought of not improving made her angry. She left the office, saying a tearful goodbye to her therapist.
As she stepped out into the cold winds outside, Sierra couldn't help but feel conflicted. She felt like nothing made sense anymore. How did she end up in this situation? Would anyone believe her if she told them the truth?
"I must be going crazy," she thought to herself.
But deep down, she knew she was different from everyone else. She had always known. She had eyes that were unlike anyone else's—they were full of colors, but not in a normal way. The doctors had told her it could be an impairment, but she saw through her eyes just fine. There was one detail she had never shared with her doctors or therapist—she couldn't recognize faces. To her, everyone was just a blank slate, with no eyes, no mouth, nothing.
Can this be just a dream? She looks at the piece of paper again and throws it in the nearby trash bin, thinking it's the only way to free herself from the dreams/memories. It wasn't.
Meanwhile,
"Mother," the man says on the line. He was slightly breathing heavily, picking up a piece of paper in the trash bin.
"Jun, I'm not your mother," another voice comes from the phone the man is holding.
"You sure act like one. She's not picking up on all our signs; she's starting to believe those memories were just dreams," Jun says over the phone in a worried manner. He was scared of becoming an empty memory.
Jun smirks at himself and adds, "I have a plan."
"Uh, it's not another one of your wacky schemes, right?" the other says over the phone, since he knows how stupid Jun can be; he's exposed them so many times before and had to correct them each time.
"No, listen to me, you're a therapist at that hospital, so I'll just swap that number with yours," he says to the male, who says nothing on the other line. Many things may go wrong with this plan, but it does make sense.
Jun smiles as the other male says, "I don't know, Jun, it seems too hazardous, but it doesn't sound as horrible as the last one you pulled." Jun stops listening.
"All right, Mum, I'll see you later." He hangs up the phone before the other can complain. Following the lady, who was already having a rough day, the elder grabs a pen from his rucksack and a similar piece of paper and writes down the phony information, gently bumping into her and putting the form into her bag.
"I'm sorry," he says as he walks away smiling.
As she sits in her car, tears streaming down her face, she can't help but feel defeated and overwhelmed. But she knows she can't let her emotions control her, especially at work. So she takes a few deep breaths, wiping her tears and patting her puffy eyes, trying to compose herself. She knows she needs to find a way to calm down before she enters the company where the conference is taking place. So she focuses on her breathing, trying to slow it down and clear her mind. And as she finally steps out of her car and makes her way into the building.
Sierra nodded, knowing that she had made the right decision. As a law firm, it was their responsibility to manage their money ethically and professionally. Any hint of wrongdoing could damage their reputation and credibility. And in such a competitive industry, being recognized as the best was crucial for their success.
The problem at hand was a serious one. An employee had taken money from the firm's bank account and used it to bribe judges. This not only put the firm at risk of being perceived as corrupt, but it also showed a lack of financial management. Sierra's father, the co-CEO of the firm, looked at her with a slight smile, knowing that she was the best person to handle the situation.
Sierra's cold and stern demeanor was well-known within the firm. She was not afraid to make tough decisions, and her father was aware of this. As she examined the document, her eyes narrowed in disapproval. The employee had been caught on camera, and there was no denying their guilt.
Without hesitation, Sierra turned to the employees in the room and asked for a solution. She gave them a strict deadline of two seconds, which made it clear that she meant business. A timid blonde employee suggested conducting a live conference to inform the public of the mistake and apologize. However, Sierra was not convinced.
She used a hypothetical scenario to make her point. If someone's partner was caught flirting with another person, would they simply believe their partner's excuse? No, they would need proof. In the same way, the public would not believe a simple apology from the law firm. They needed solid evidence to prove their innocence.
Sierra's approach was not well-received by the employees, but she stood her ground. She knew that as lawyers, their job was to gather evidence and present it in court to prove their case. The same applies here. She instructed them to make the employee admit to their wrongdoing and share the video as evidence. This would not only clear the firm's name but also result in the employee being fired.
As the employees left the room, Sierra's father commended her for her decisive actions. He did mention that she may have been a bit too hard on them, but Sierra knew that it was necessary to uphold the integrity of the firm. In the end, the room erupted in applause, and Sierra knew that she had made the right decision for the firm. They needed to handle their finances responsibly and maintain them.
Sierra sat at the head of the table, her father and the man she assumed was a lawyer sitting across from her. She couldn't help but feel annoyed at being dragged into this meeting. After all, she was the CEO of a successful company, not a legal expert.
"The reason for this meeting could have been solved without me, so tell me why I'm here?" she questioned, her gaze now fixed on the man sitting across from her. He met her gaze with care, and she couldn't help but smile slightly at him.
"I was testing you, and you did well, Ms. CEO," her father teased, causing her to roll her eyes in response. She knew her father loved to test her, but she couldn't help but feel like this was a waste of her time.
"How's mom? She told me she wasn't feeling okay; it's probably the whole pregnancy thing," she said, trying to shift the focus away from herself.
Her father's smile grew wider as he replied, "Yes, she's okay. You should see your mother more frequently; you know how upset she gets when she doesn't see you." Sierra couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. She only returned home twice a week, and even then, it was only if she wasn't in therapy, which she was seriously considering abandoning. Her father's next question only solidified her doubts.
"How is therapy going?" he asked, even though it was her day off. They walked out of the conference room and into the main office, and Sierra couldn't help but feel like she was being interrogated. She knew her father meant well, but she also knew that he could be overbearing at times. She sighed and followed him.
"She told me I had not improved and needed to be transferred to a different hospital. I was considering stopping since I'm wasting money on things that aren't working," she laments as she fidgets with her nails. Her father looks at her sadly, sitting at his desk and looking up at her.
"Well, whatever you decide, we will support you, honey. I hope you get your answer soon because I don't want you suffering anymore, OK?" She stands there looking at her father as if she has finally found comfort. As her father noticed that she had cried? Because she wasn't saying anything, her father spoke again.
"You should go home." She thinks for a few seconds and shakes her head.
"I'll come over this weekend to visit—"
"Oh, I almost forgot, we are having a party for your mother on the 23rd of this month. She wanted you to help her plan the reveal, so I hope you stay over longer than you do." She takes in the pieces of information and shakes her head again.
"Your eyes are puffy. Please take care. See you this weekend, honey; I love you." He smiles, looks back down, and signs the paperwork.
"I'll pack a few clothes, love you too," she leaves.
As she searched her bag for her keys, her eyes stumbled upon the piece of paper she was sure she had thrown away. She couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that had settled in her stomach. It was as if the universe was playing a cruel joke on her, constantly reminding her of the one thing she was trying to forget. She had been trying so hard to move on, to let go of the past, and to start a new chapter in her life. But here she was, staring at a piece of paper that seemed to hold a secret message, a hidden meaning that only she could decipher.