I laid in bed in this cold room as I watched the doctor and the nurse left me. The nurse turned off the light and the room went dark. I turned my head towards the window on my left side, it was nighttime and raining. As I watched and heard the rain dropped on onto the window. I got swept away and reminiscent about my life.

I was born in an average family, dad worked as a teacher and barely come home because the school was too far away, mom worked as nurses and she singled handily took care of me.

At school, I got a pretty average grade and didn’t stand out, maybe for that reason, they targeted me for their bullying. They punched me In the stomach, kicked me in the face, called me ‘names,’ ripped the homework that I worked on the night before,

I tried to talk about it to my teacher, but all she told me was, “Don’t befriend them.” She also added that I had been loitering near a hallway and instructed me to pick it up. I told her that it wasn’t but she said she saw me, but as I remember, I didn’t even walk in that hallway. I went to the hallway, picked up the piece of plastic, and put it away in the trash bin. The teacher said to me, “it was there right?” In which, I silently nodded.

Why I was being treated that way by my teacher? Didn’t she suppose to helped students? Or was it my fault that I was born in this world? Those were the answer that I couldn’t find or solve at that point in life.

To make sure, things would change. I studied relentlessly and got a good grade. Then, I enrolled in a college and studied engineering.

I joined a student body organization and would say I’m one of their active players and vocals one but in one semester, I tried to juggle my studies and my participation in the organization but the amount of stress I piled up inside me finally came, as the result of my grade we low. I cried not because of the grade, but I failed myself.

Thus, I took a semester break and strengthened my mind and body, but the damage was already done, to the point, everything looked depressing to me I returned to college, quit the organization, acted strong with my friends and lecturers, finished my project, and graduated but I didn’t participate on the graduation ceremony and only took my diploma from the office.

As times moved on, my heart became weaker and I couldn’t do heavy worked. I was admitted to the hospital at the age of 24 and got diagnosed with a weak heart.

For the next couple of months, the doctor and nurses would come and checked on my health. Family, close relatives, and one or two friends would visit me and encourage me not to give up on hope.

I said to them, “Don’t worry, I will survive this hurdle.” But deep down, inside my mind, heart, and body, they were telling me, it was time to give up my dreams and died.

Maybe, it was time for me to give up my dreams to be the first man from the world and my country to set foot on Mars. All that studying led to this cold hospital room.

I wondered whose fault was it that I’m in this state. Was it my parents who give birth to me in this world and told me not to fight? Was it his parent’s divorce that made him bullied me? Did the organization’s program too many or how the lecturers couldn’t make me understand their subject? Too many questions but only one answered.

The answer was me, it was my fault that I have a bad mouth, it was my fault, I couldn’t plan my time well during I was in college and it was my unhealthy habit to drink coffee than water and got my mind and body stressed. It was all my fault.

If only I could have a second chance or another life. I wouldn’t waste any of it, but that was all science fiction and fantasy. This world, this life, wasn’t like that.

My heart began to beat faster than usual, and I laid on the bed, awaiting my time. The doctor and nurses rushed into my room. I couldn’t hear what they said, but I might try to guess it. Maybe, the doctor and nurses were telling me to stay with them and not give up or it might be they think of me as another living organism that was slowly dying and fascinated by it.

I should stop with this negative thinking, and focused on, what is life after death. Would I go to heaven or hell? Would I be forgiven?

Well, if we talked about forgiving. I already forgive those who do me wrong because it wasn’t their fault. My presence in their life was a mistake. To be honest, I shouldn’t have been born in this world.

Now to the next question. Should I forgive myself? Or accept who I am, Maybe, I would find my answer in whatever places I might be. Their voices were now inaudible, my body felt cold, and my vision bl-.