[Disclaimer]
This story features a fictional illness that does not exist in real life. Please note that it is purely fictional and not based on medical fact.
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Do people really know?
That gnawing despair of living with an incurable disease?
The illness I’m talking about is called “Sroke.”
It slowly, quietly pushes people into darkness—
and when it finally kills you, it does so in the cruelest way imaginable.
Only about 1% of the population is diagnosed with it.
One in a hundred.
But what’s even more heartless is this: it only targets newborns. Infants.
So among all those babies... why did it have to be me?
My parents gave me the gift of life by refusing to give up on me.
But truthfully, I never wanted that gift.
I was always timid.
And this illness made me even more withdrawn.
Throughout six years of elementary school, I never once had a best friend.
“Mom… I don’t want to go to school today.”
“Why? Is someone bullying you?”
“No…”
I honestly wish that was the reason.
At least if someone were bullying me, it’d be a tangible excuse.
But the real reason?
I just didn’t have any friends.
That’s so much more pathetic.
My mom was too busy with work to listen deeply.
And yet, my parents were all I had.
Even though I depended on them,
I still had no one by my side.
I lived without even the faintest glimmer of hope.
So why did my depression take so long to show up?
No—maybe it had already arrived.
I was just too busy surviving to notice.
Swallowing pills without thinking,
chasing time I’d never outrun...
What exactly have I been living for?
There’s no one to contact.
I stared blankly at my message app—
and realized.
I’m pathetic.
Work life only made it clearer:
I am completely, utterly pathetic.
And now, I’m 24 years old.
The age when people bloom like flowers.
But me?
I fell like one instead.
(I)
Maybe it was the sudden chill in the air.
Or maybe it was my relationships, growing colder by the day.
Whatever the reason, my immune system finally gave up—
toppling over like a line of dominos.
That’s when it came.
My opportunity.
My ending.
“Patient Gil Ahwon, please come in.”
“Yes.”
Ahwon’s voice echoed softly through the sterile hospital hallway.
“You’re here again? You must be having a rough time lately.”
“Yeah… maybe it’s the cold weather. I’ve been getting sick more often.”
Once again, I lost to the weather.
Every season change,
the weather always turned me into something pitiful.
Around this time last year:
“Make sure to dress warmly, okay? You’re already fragile.
And don’t forget to take your medication regularly.”
Back to now.
“Let’s do a more thorough examination today.”
“Alright.”
The doctor, knowing the nature of Ahwon’s condition, looked concerned.
He requested a full diagnostic scan.
After changing into a hospital gown,
Ahwon entered the room.
The atmosphere was tense.
But being a longtime patient with an untreatable illness,
Ahwon was used to expedited results.
The doctor stared at the screen for a long time,
silent.
Sensing the mood,
Ahwon mentally braced himself.
“…I’m sorry, but… it might be time to start preparing yourself.”
Maybe this is a good thing.
A chance to finally leave this world—
a world more hellish than hell itself.
“We suspected this since last year, but things have worsened faster than expected.”
“...How bad is it?”
“If we’re being generous… you may have a year.
Realistically? Six months.”
Even though he thought he was ready,
he wasn’t.
I thought I hated this world.
But now, I wonder—
was I still holding on?
“There’s no chance I’ll survive, is there?”
The doctor said nothing.
Just nodded.
“Thank you… I’ll be going now.”
So this is what a death sentence sounds like.
Not dramatic at all.
Just a sentence from a doctor.
And with that… my life began its final descent.
“Mom… I’m coming soon.”
For some reason,
today of all days,
I missed my parents more than ever.