Plotted against 1

Eric's gaze fell upon his mother, Diana, her eyes vacant, her face a mask of silence.

The poison that had ravaged her body had stolen her ability to shed tears, to make a sound, leaving her trapped in a prison of stillness.

Yet, despite the devastation that had ravaged her, she still managed to smile every day, a faint, gentle smile, just for him. In those eyes, Eric saw encouragement, a drive to move forward, a reminder that even in the darkest moments, hope persisted.

 As she raised her frail hand to caress his chin, their only means of communication, Eric felt a surge of emotions.

After a few minutes, Eric stood up, holding the package of food, and said, "I got your favorite food for your birthday."

Diana's face lit up with a smile. Eric supported her as she sat on the bed, her back against the wall, and fed her slowly and carefully. Once she finished eating, Eric cleaned her up and left the room, taking the remaining food with him.

With only four hours to sleep before his appointment with Della, Eric set an alarm for 6:00 pm.

However, when the phone rang, he slapped it away, sleeping for an additional 20 minutes. Suddenly, he sprang out of bed, remembering his "breakup date" with Della. After a quick wash, Eric began inspecting his wardrobe, deciding on a simple outfit since it wasn't a special occasion.

He thought about his expensive clothes, locked away, which could fetch millions if sold. However, his mother had always disapproved of selling them, hoping they would provide Eric with a head start in life if the worst happened. Eric understood her reasoning, given the enormous cost of prolonging her life.

After dressing, Eric informed his mother and left the house, heading to the courtyard where his old motorcycle waited. He drove away, bound for the suspension bridge, a place holding memories of his past life as the young master of the Lord's family. The bridge was an hour's drive north, nestled in an ancient forest filled with towering trees and mountains.

The suspension bridge that they talked about was an old place that they have been visiting when they were staunch lovers, when he was the young master of the Lord's family. It's like an hour drive to the north from his neighborhood, into an ancient forest filled with towering trees and mountains.

As Eric journeyed on, he chanced upon an old and weathered suspension bridge that stretched out before him, vanishing into the horizon. The setting sun cast a warm glow, creating a breathtaking panorama. As he stepped onto the bridge, he felt as though he was suspended in infinity, with the sun's gentle rays embracing his skin and soothing his mind. The serene atmosphere enveloped him, offering a sense of tranquility that seemed to melt away his worries.

The aged bridge, with its rusting hulk, told tales of neglect and decay. Gaps in the rail guards, where broken metal had surrendered to time, exposed the precipice beneath, a heart-stopping 100 meters to the forest below. Yet, Eric sat fearless, perched on the edge where the guardrails had given way, his feet swinging carefree in the gentle breeze. This was his sanctuary, his escape from the turmoil that plagued him. Whenever sorrow and fatigue overwhelmed, he'd return to this spot, where the sunset's warmth and the wind's whispers seemed to dissolve his troubles into nothingness.