It was only last year that I ended up in the hospital. My brother, still in elementary school, ran away from home during our parent's argument. The weather that day was vicious, snow melted against our skin until it covered our bodies and turned us to ice.165Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZqFxTvVvDq
I searched for hours, and at that moment I didn't care about myself. I didn't feel my breathe becoming faint, my fingernails turning a soft violet, or the dryness in my throat before I collapsed.
As my eyes began to close, I heard sirens in the distance. A sign that I was going to be saved, even in this horrifying condition. The heroes who picked me up spoke comforting words, but I could only latch onto a few sentences.165Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgf80zJWWbK
I woke up in this very bed, only to be told that I had an extremely rare lung condition. They called it, Incurable Cryo-Contraction Pulmonary (ICCP). A condition in which exposure to freezing temperatures causes a restriction in lung expansion. In other words, my lung capacity is little to none.
Too much air could choke and kill me, and to little, would be the same as being smothered to death. If my breath doesn't remain stable at all times, I will die. Before this, before my family and relationships fell apart, I was both a track athlete and swimmer for my school. It's quite ironic now that I think about it.
The irony of swimming and running, losing my breath just for all the praise and glory. It felt worth it, but now I feel like I should of cherished that air in my lungs, focused on every deep and satisfying breath like it was my last. I have no other choice now, and it's all I ever do.
My parents and classmates haven't visited ever since I was admitted, and I still don't know of my brother's whereabouts. I haven't seen the nurse in the past few weeks, but I know I'm not alone. I see three meals outside my door everyday. Breakfast, lunch, dinner; never a soul in sight.
I got up from the uncomfortable hospital bed and grabbed my breakfast from under the door. The TV was static, so I used my imagination to turn something on. A show about a group of friends wandering in a meadow, living the life I always dreamed off.
My parents told me there was no such thing as a utopia, but as a child I believed if everyone could come together as one, learn to balance out things, and accept a list of rights and wrongs, it could be a reality.
As I've grown older, I realize that utopia is just a paradox. People have diverse opinions, wants, and needs, which makes it impossible to create an ideal world for everyone. There is also the issue of maintaining the utopia, which would require violent and unjust actions, as a solution to keeping the perfection intact.
The characters begin to feel as if they're staring back at me, laughing at the condition I am in, bragging about how perfect their world is. The remote bounces against the screen, cracking my only means of entertainment.
"I need someone to talk to." I said to myself. My voice was gentle like the wind; it became this way after the incident. I used to be more tomboyish, loud and a bit abrasive; energetic and adventurous.
All this time being here, I have learned patience. I have learned to control myself, because of my rational fear of death. I fear it, but at the same time, I crave it; I want to die so where I don't fear it anymore.
The first knock on my door, in what felt like a century. I was a bit terrified of who I might see on the other side, but I needed someone. As I reached the door, I heard their voice, much more confident than mine.
"Are you alright in there?"
It was masculine, obviously not the nurse who I thought was taking care of me. I backed away, not knowing how to respond to the stranger. "W-Who are you?" A dumb question, like I really needed to know. I couldn't understand why I decided to respond.
"My name is Null."
"What kind of name is that?"
"That's kind of rude, don't you think? Now, can you please open the door?"
I worked up the courage to do just that, but as I expected to see a person there, all I saw before me was an empty hallway. "N-Null?" I knew what I heard and it was starting to drive me mad. I expected someone, just anyone, to be walking down the hall.
All those sounds of footsteps, all those times I heard whispers beyond the walls of Room 2C, they were all lies. I slammed the door shut, trying to gather my thoughts before it killed me.
"Hey Noria, that's your name, right?"
He was back, still speaking from beyond the door. "I'm sorry about scaring you, Noria. I just wanted to see you before you could see me. I'm a person who has encountered a lot of scary things in this short time I've been alive."
"W-What are you talking about?"
"It's hard for me to explain, but let's just say that I'm here to fulfill your wish."
"What wish?"
"Go ahead, think about it for a second. It's the wish you have been holding onto for so many years, long before your brother disappeared."
"H-How do you know about that?"
"Enough with the questions, Noria. I'm just making sure you're the person I've been searching for in Melonia. Fulfilling your wish, is what I was sent here to do." My mind was scrambling around as I answered.
"My wish... is to see the fields again."
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