Another day.

That was the only thing that could describe the life of Ethan Lambert, just another day in the hospital.

Since the age of 8, poor old Ethan has been stuck in a bed usually reserved for patients in extreme accidents that require extra comfort, so they don't scream in pain just to shift their weight. And the boy remained in one of these beds ever since. A comfy prison is what he would comment to the newer nurses who would be the ones to take care of him. He seemed to be the 'test dummy' for the men and women who just got out of med school but had not interacted much with actual patients.

Not that he minded, more people to talk to. To distract him from the unimaginable amount of pain always present in his body.

Every move taken, every word spoken, and even the slightest twitch of a muscle would cause the poor boy extreme pain that would make a war veteran shed tears and a string of curses.

The young Lambert had initially been placed into this state due to a head-on collision resulting in his predicament and his parents' death. The only saving grace was that Darla, his older sister, had been at a sleepover with her close friend Megan when the accident occurred. Thankfully the girl wasn't physically affected. The problem was that she had blamed what happened to herself as the family was driving to come to pick her up for lunch. Darla went into a spiral of depression that resulted in a broken relationship with her brother. Although Ethan had never put any blame on her and never spoken an ill word of his sister, she had it set in her head that she was at fault for everything.

And that is how Ethan experienced 12 years of his life, confined to a bed in extreme constant pain. He never once cried out when his sister came to visit through all of it. All the nurses and doctors knew he was trying to spare Darla any more guilt. Every time she left, a new box of tissues was needed as the older woman couldn't help seeing his bright smile turn into grinding pain.

His body, physically broken and shattered from the crash, only worsened. His weakened state made him easily susceptible to diseases. Many times, the doctors nearly called Darla to tell her that he had passed, only for the boy to make a recovery. It had been made into a formal academic study on how the body responds to infection while being so destroyed. The man in charge of it, Julio Gonzales, had agreed not to officially post anything until 2 years after his death. It was all so that his sister was not made distraught by seeing her dead brother all over her university papers. There was just one more requirement for the study that Ethan had demanded, always know when his sister was coming.

Her visits had to be scheduled a week in advance.

"Mind over the body," Ethan would always say. Consistently, when given the timing, he would somehow pull through whatever he was going through just so that he did not damage Darla any further than she had. And miraculously, he always managed to.

But there were consequences.

Every time Ethan made a staggering recovery from whatever disease he had, his body got worse. More pain, more dangerous conditions. And yet he persisted.

Until it happened.

At 12:01 AM, July 21, Ethan Lambert died, a minute after the day of his birth, an hour after his sister left the hospital doors.

The start of a new life.