Pavlov's Dog
The bell rings with a clear, crystalline tone. A sound I've heard somewhere before. Ivan Petrovich Pavlov (1849–1936), a scholar born during the Russian Empire whose name still echoes through history. He is remembered by the public largely for his achievement in clearly and simply describing a form of learning called classical conditioning through the famous experiment with Pavlov's dog.
There is a dog. An ordinary dog, nothing particularly special about it. Before giving this dog its food, a small bell is rung. This process is repeated over a long period. At first, the dog shows no reaction to the bell. But as time passes, a change begins to occur in the dog. That small bell starts hammering a single sentence into the dog's mind: When that bell rings, food is coming.
Whether the dog is consciously aware of this sentence or not, its body begins preparing to eat the moment the bell sounds. The dog instinctively salivates. The saliva meant for chewing thoroughly, digesting well, and smoothly swallowing combines with the sound of the bell. Given enough time, even without the specific stimulus of food being provided, the dog simply associates the bell with food. And it salivates.
A beautiful, pure, clear bell rings, tickling my ears. Ding~
And as if in response to that sound, a fist flies in and buries itself in my stomach.
My body reacts instantly to the pain that exceeds its tolerance. Nociceptors go wild, screaming through my nerves to my brain. Stop this pain! If this keeps up, we'll die...
The moment my brain receives the signal, it desperately tries to move my body, to escape this situation. But my limbs, bound so tightly they can barely twitch, only manage to jerk and twist helplessly. Dry heaves rise from my parched mouth and throat. Yet my completely empty stomach, with nothing inside, sends up nothing at all. All that comes is the miserable certainty that I might die and the lingering echo of twisting agony.
Ding~
Again, a fist flies in and buries itself in my stomach.
I'm sick of this cruel, merciless fate. All I wanted was to help others as much as I had suffered. All I wanted was to love someone as deeply as the time I had endured. I don't understand why these things keep happening to me. Is it just bad luck? Why do I alone keep experiencing things that others might never face in their entire lives? I can't comprehend it.
Ding~
The fist flies in and buries itself in my stomach.
To me, who had lived alone for more than twenty years, my sister had been an incredibly grateful presence. When my friends around me gradually chose love with their partners and our contact grew quiet, as I tossed and turned alone in bed trying to sleep, I would sometimes think about how I wanted to spend these empty hours with someone I loved. People I met occasionally would ask, puzzled, why I still didn't have a girlfriend, but I could only smile and brush it off. Even I didn't understand why I was alone. There had been many women who showed interest in me, and many I had been interested in, but it never progressed to a real relationship.
That girl comes to mind.
Ding~
The fist buries itself in my stomach.
Was it because of her? I'm sure I've grown more than I was back then, yet the moment love enters the picture, I turn back into that young, timid little bastard from those days. I think about the people I let slip away. The ones I allowed to pass me by. Unlike them, the one who held onto me firmly was my sister. She approached me when I couldn't take a step forward, and she was so lovable that I wanted to give her everything I had. So I loved her. So, so much.
Ding~
The fist strikes.
Why does my love always have to be this sad, this heartbreaking, this tragic? I think of the tears, the happiness, and the pain of the countless people who experienced love before me in this world. Scholars greater than geniuses, supremely noble and great kings, businessmen who seized success and claimed all the envy in the world, sacred artists who remain unforgettable even as time passes. I wonder what forms of love they experienced. Beautiful and innocent love, bittersweet love that lingers, love that leads each other to ruin...
Ding~
The fist...
If I had made a different choice somewhere, could I have avoided this situation? When my sister first hurt me, if I had said I hated it and asked her to stop, would she have changed? If I had properly refused when Jimin invited me to join her group, would I still be living an ordinary life?
Ding~
My body twitches. Terrified of the fist that's about to come, I try to tense my muscles in anticipation of the impact point. But the fist doesn't fly.
"It really works? That's fascinating, isn't it? I haven't even done it that long, but the effect is already showing."
My sister strokes my stomach. The touch of her hand is so terrifying that my body refuses to relax, trembling violently instead.
"Still, I have to do it properly... right?"
What should I call this behavior of hers? Was my sister always like this? Or is my existence dragging her into something twisted? In ways I don't know about, am I the one making the people around me strange?
Ding~
The fist flies in. This time, the pain is properly felt. My consciousness... feels like it's about to snap, yet clings on tenaciously. Is my body holding on because it thinks that fainting in this situation might mean death? It already feels like a situation where dying wouldn't be surprising, yet every single cell in my body refuses to accept death. Thanks to that, I remain alive, feeling all this pain with vivid clarity.
Ding~
The fist flies in again. I think of Mom. Our mom, who always loved me despite living a busy, difficult, and exhausting life. Mom always lived worrying about me. If I got even slightly hurt or felt even a little pain, she would cry and nurse me with absolute devotion. But that beautiful, wonderful heart and intention somehow led to a horribly twisted result. Even when I was beaten or bullied by someone, I couldn't tell her because I was afraid it would burden her, so I endured it alone. Because I didn't want Mom to see me and feel too sad... the more I did that, the harder people hit and tormented me. Since I never said anything or showed any signs.
Ding~
My body shudders in anticipation of the fist that's about to come. And without fail, the fist buries itself deep into my stomach. The me who thought he had grown is sinking endlessly to the bottom. The helplessness of being unable to do anything, of being able only to blame myself, crushes me. I just miss Mom. No, I hope Mom never sees me like this. No... I don't even know anymore.
Ding~
Every time that spine-chilling bell strikes my ears, my body begins to feel pain even before the fist lands. Conditioned reflex... The fist flies in and strikes. The expected pain returns. The world feels so unfair. While someone is lying somewhere comfortable, resting and enjoying their hobbies, while someone is happily on a date with their loved one, while someone is getting vicarious satisfaction from YouTube and Netflix, why do I have to be tied up here, enduring this endless wave of pain?
No, that's just how the world is. When someone is sad, someone else is happy. When someone is suffering, someone else is enjoying themselves. When someone fails, someone else succeeds. I am simply suffering like a dog in this hellish situation.
Ding~
My body braces for the coming impact. Though all bracing amounts to is writhing. I feel the fist. It feels like it's striking harder than before. I can't tell anymore whether the accumulation of pain has worn down my mind and caused an overreaction, or if she's actually hitting me harder. I'm certain the organs my stomach protects have been damaged. Too many wounds have appeared on my body in just a few days. Even if they all heal, I'm not sure I'll be able to walk like before.
"Whew, hitting someone is tiring too... Jihyun, let's take a break!"
My sister removes whatever had been covering my eyes. My eyes, exposed to light after so long, can't properly make out the scenery of my room. I can only vaguely see the shape of my sister looking at me.
"Oh? Our baby... you must have been through a lot, huh? There, there..."
My sister hugs me. Her scent washes over me.
"It's always hard at first. You'll get used to it soon."
My sister unties and removes the cloth that had been tightly bound in my mouth.
"Thirsty, right? Just wait a little. I bought some drinks."
She holds an electrolyte drink in front of me. I can't see it clearly, but from the green color, I can guess what it is.
"Here, drink this!"
She tilts her head back to pour it into my mouth, then pauses for a moment.
"No, we have our own way of drinking, don't we?"
She takes a sip. Her silhouette and the sound come to me faintly. Then she immediately presses her lips to mine and pushes the liquid into my mouth. My body absorbs the moisture that has finally arrived after so long. Any sense of rejection or disgust vanishes completely. Like a baby bird waiting for its mother, I simply open my mouth and wait for the next one.
"Jihyun, our baby..."
She takes another sip. And passes it to me again. I desperately crave that sweet, cool liquid.
"It would be nice if we could stay like this forever, just the two of us. Right..."
She takes another sip. I receive it again. I simply drink down that ecstatic liquid flowing into my mouth.