Between Earth and Elsewhere

“Oh my god, what should we do?”

“Is she okay?”

“Is she bleeding? Shouldn’t we move her to the sidewalk? Someone call 911!”

“No, don’t move her. What if she has broken bones?”

“Has anyone called 911?”

“I did.”

“Is she breathing?”

“Yeah.”

“Such a young person… Ma’am, you saw it too, right? She jumped right in front of the car.”

“I followed all the signals, I wasn’t speeding—”

“How can you talk about that when she might be dying? Wait, did someone call 911?”

“I already did. God, I hope she makes it. She’s so thin…”

“Don’t say that.”

“I hit the brakes—it was just a small impact.”

“Should we do CPR?”

“She’s breathing, why would we need CPR?”

“Why would someone so young jump into traffic?”

“Must’ve been a suicide attempt.”

“Seems like it.”

Wee-woo-wee-woo

“Ambulance is here.”

“Step back, everyone. Make room…”

The scene played out like a movie before Yeomyung’s eyes—chaotic, then silent, then rushing forward again. Through it all, he couldn’t look away from Arin’s face as she lay on the road, staring back at him.

His stomach churned.

Why did he keep seeing faces like this? Was it his fate? The only difference was his mom had worn that expression before the car hit her, not after.

That expression—how to describe it? It was like someone finding an unexpectedly simple answer after struggling with a difficult problem. The look that asked, “Why didn’t I see this before?”

Yeomyung couldn’t move.

He stayed rooted there as paramedics lifted Arin onto the stretcher, as the crowd dispersed, as the sun crept toward the horizon.

Just like when his mom died. He’d stood frozen then, too. What should he have done instead? Run to her, cry, beg her not to die? But why shouldn’t she? Was living really so good? Had his mom’s life been worth continuing? Since a car had hit her anyway, maybe this was the better end.

Only now, ten years later, was Yeomyung wondering what he should have done that day.

Back then, he couldn’t think straight—he was too angry at his mom.

She saw me. Our eyes met. Why didn’t she dodge the car? Wasn’t seeing me enough reason to live? Or was I just another weight dragging her down, like sandbags chained to her ankles?

The anger he felt toward his mom might have really been aimed at himself. Maybe his very existence was part of what drove her to that end.

Yeomyung turned around slowly, his knees stiff from standing so long. Like a programmed robot vacuum, he moved automatically toward home.

When he got there, his dad greeted him. “How was work?”

“…”

“Hot out today.”

“…”

His dad looked puzzled at the silence, and Hyeonmyung glanced up from his phone.

Yeomyung pulled a blanket from the wardrobe, spread it roughly on the floor, and lay down fully clothed. He pulled it up to his chin as sweat—or maybe cold sweat—ran down his body.

“Going to sleep?” his dad asked.

“…Yes,” Yeomyung mumbled, facing the wall.

“Don’t you want to wash up first?”

“…”

“That tired?”

“…Yes.”

“Nothing happened, right?”

“…Yes.”

His dad fell quiet.

Yeomyung lay there blinking, thinking back to what Arin had said.

“Don’t leave me! Please, don’t leave me!”

“I really can’t take it anymore. The humans are tormenting me too much.”

“If I stay on Earth any longer, I won’t be able to breathe. I’ll die if I stay here.”

She had meant every word. Even if not literally true, her feelings were real. When she said she couldn’t take it anymore, couldn’t breathe—she meant it.

And he’d ignored her.

But what else could he have done? Should he really have helped her get to space? Maybe she had always been set on dying, and crossing paths with her was just Yeomyung’s bad luck.

Why did she want to leave Earth so badly? Had someone hurt her? No—sometimes just existing can terrify people, even without any hostility. Maybe especially without hostility.

I hate people like you the most. Leeches who can’t take care of themselves. You’ll say you had no choice, right? But what about the person you’re clinging to? What did they do to deserve this? Breaking their back to feed trash like you?

Yeomyung kept tugging at the blanket, even though it wouldn’t stretch any further.

Maybe it was the opposite for Arin. Was she the burden? Like a sack of dirt crushing someone’s shoulders, grinding their cartilage? Did that knowledge torment her? Had she been desperately trying to forget until Yeomyung reminded her?

If someone asked who killed her, would she point to him?

…No. words alone don’t make a crime. You can’t kill someone with words. That woman was unstable. Her mental illness made her jump. That was clear.

So why was he so scared? Was it guilt over being involved? He couldn’t even identify what he feared.

Was it the shock of watching someone he’d just spoken to jump in front of a car? Fear that she might be dead? It couldn’t be concern for her. Was it because it reminded him of his mom? Or just fear of death itself…

His phone vibrated.

Unknown number. Usually, he’d ignore it, but something told him to answer.

“Hello?”

“Seoul West Police Station here. Is this Yeomyung Jeon?”

“Yes.”

“Did you witness a traffic accident in Hongjin-dong this afternoon?”

“Yes.”

“We need to ask you some questions. Could you come to the West Police Station tomorrow?”

“Okay…”

***

“Ms. Arin Joo visited the store where you work, correct, Mr. Jeon?”

“Yes.”

“Then you both walked to the main street?”

“Yes.”

“You had a conversation by this bus stop, and when you turned around, Ms. Arin Joo jumped onto the road. Is that right?”

“Yes.”

“What is your relationship? Do you remember what you discussed? Any idea why Ms. Joo might have jumped?”

The officer’s voice carried a slight regional accent.

Yeomyung weighed his response carefully. He didn’t mind telling the truth, but Seorin’s words echoed in his mind:

“I’m sure you have health insurance, but we’d prefer to handle this privately. We’d appreciate your discretion regarding today’s incident—no social media posts, no forums. And naturally, no legal action or media involvement.”

She’d been desperate to keep Arin’s situation under wraps.

It wasn’t that Yeomyung wanted to honor Seorin’s request, and it definitely wasn’t for Arin’s sake. He just didn’t want any more complications. Who knew what Seorin might do if he started talking about Arin?

“…I told her we should break up,” Yeomyung said to the officer.

***

“They wouldn’t have blamed you, even if you’d told the truth,” Seorin said.

They sat together on a bench outside the police station. The shade did little against the heat, but neither wanted to move their conversation to a café.

“…So?” Yeomyung said.

“Why lie unnecessarily?”

“I was worried what you might do to me.”

Seorin nodded, understanding.

“You’re rich, right? Rich enough to block me from working,” said Yeomyung.

“…I thought that would make you take the job I offered.”

“…”

“I’m sorry. I’ll fix everything. I was scared then. My sister was in such bad shape… I’m sorry.”

Seorin didn’t mention Arin’s current condition. She probably knew Yeomyung didn’t want to hear it.

He didn’t.

“Do you really not know why my sister keeps seeking you out?” Seorin asked suddenly.

“…”

“I don’t think it’s logical… but I don’t think it’s random either.”

“…I didn’t dodge the motorcycle,” Yeomyung finally said.

Seorin looked at him.

Why was he telling her this? Still, he continued: “When I was getting off the bus, a motorcycle came speeding by. I just stood there. I thought it was too fast to avoid… But Arin said I didn’t try. Said I didn’t seem human. Like I was an alien.”

“She must have seen wrong?”

“…Yeah.”

Sweat trickled down his neck.

“You don’t seem curious about why she’s acting this way,” Seorin said.

Am I?

Yeomyung thought understanding Arin might help him understand his mom—why she hadn’t avoided the car, what she felt in that moment. But knowing wouldn’t change anything. It would only hurt more.

He might even start feeling sorry for Arin. Better not to be curious at all.

“Because nothing good comes from knowing,” he said.

“You’re wise.”

Seorin’s phone rang. She excused herself to answer.

“Yes, Father. …Yes, I handled it. …You’re sure about this? Once they’re admitted, it’s hard to get them out, even if we request it. …I understand for now. …Yes. …Yes.”

She hung up, her expression hardened.

“Well, I’m sorry about everything. Making you come here… I should go.”

Seorin stood. Yeomyung followed.

She gave a slight bow. Caught off guard, he returned it.

As she walked toward the parking lot, Yeomyung watched her go.