The End of The Short Journey (1)

I stood behind the curtains of the hospital, looking at a playground where children my age were playing. I couldn't bear the sadness and anger when I looked down. It was a hell of a ride for me.

My doctors said that I was diagnosed with stage 3 lung cancer. I don't know what that means, but they say I can die. I backed from the window onto the bedsheet, where I ducked down and placed my hands on my forehead.

It seemed like I was wiping some tears off my face, not because I was sick, but because I couldn't play like them. I can only read some 'Harry Potter', 'Tensura', and some manga in my room. Though I'm facilitated with a computer, nothing gets to me. I just want to be out there with them.

Suddenly, someone walked into the room. I hoped it was my mother, but no. It was my doctor, who took care of me this whole time. I wasn't grateful to him yet he's keeping me alive, so maybe I have to pay back the favor sometime...

"Aoi-san, please get on the bed. If you are depressed, your breaths will become short! Here, let me get you up." 

The doctor put his hands on my shoulders and raised me to his head, giving me a piggyback. It reminded me of my dad, and I liked him. He always tells jokes, doesn't get angry like Mother, and is handsome. I wanted to marry him, not gonna lie.

"Aoi, I have something to tell you," he said while putting me back down on the bed. "You now have only 1 week." "1 week for what?" "Until... God decides to call you to heaven, my dear." I knew he was referring to death, but I also felt it was too early.

"Really? If that's the case, I'd rather die now!" I screamed. My hand reached over for a vase and smashed it onto my leg, injuring my ankle and foot. "AOI!" he shouted. The doctor then pushed me onto the bed, calling the nurse on the telephone.

What I said, I felt. Dying now rather than waiting another week for my demise is an orthodox decision for everyone with a certain time of death, especially ones like me, dying from a disease in a small amount of time.

The doctor grabbed a spray, some betadine (povidone-iodine), and a bandage. The nurse rushed into the room not long after. When they treated the wound, I couldn't feel the pain. 

One time, I overheard that my lung cancer was because my alveoli were damaged by something, followed by the tissues and bronchiolus. I also didn't feel any pain in those parts, but not like I knew where they were located.

A doctor was speaking with a medician from Germany, who was curious about what damaged my lungs. He did the operation but found nothing. I felt pain for the first time, despite being fed an anesthetic and painkiller.

His name was Mr. Artar Muller (Many called him Mr. Arutaru Myuraru), and was a nice man, but I think he's a sociopath. By looking at his expressionless face and devil-like eyes, I felt that he had a similarity to me. We both were sociopaths, at least I knew that I was, I wasn't sure if he was, but I felt it inside my body, the first time... The feeling of brotherhood between us.

Mr. Artar left just before Doctor Kayuba took care of me. It was about 3 months ago. My only friends during the last year I was in the hospital were just Mr. Artar, Kayuba, and Mother. And even with the three of them, no one wanted to play what I wanted.

They just wanted to entertain me to keep me from depression and asthma. My only last wish is not to live, but for me to meet my dad one more time. I missed him, and he was my favorite person. Of course, I loved Mother and God too, but I felt more cozy around him.

He would always tell me bedtime stories, give me special "chung chung" hugs, and give me piggyback rides. Despite Kayuba looked like Dad and acted like him, I knew he wasn't the real deal. Even for 10 seconds, it's enough. God, please fulfill my wish, I thought at that moment.

Back to the original scene, it was 2 hours after I almost broke my leg. Dr. Kayuba had finished lecturing me, and I was able to move a bit. Mom rarely visited, but today she was coming here. Mom is a bit forced to not look after me because she works in a high position in the Japanese government.

But at that time, all doctors had done what they could do, give me targeted drugs, immunotoxins. I placed my hand on the bench where my food was being served; a bowl of miso ramen, takoyaki, and two glasses of ocha. I was bored of eating this every day, so I placed it aside for the meantime.

As I looked at the bedroom corner, an aura of darkness was approaching me, and I almost fell down the bed, knocking over the other cast I had. My asthma was turning in, and I rolled down the bed, my body hitting the floor.

I crawled near the couch, where I knocked over another bag of antidotes and medical substances, spreading all around the tiles. I was feeling more and more anxious before I fainted near the door. No one heard me, and I felt the surge of darkness still approaching horrendously.