It had already been 5 years since I was diagnosed, and it wasn't getting any better; I thought my life was over.
I had been through so many hospital visits, doctor appointments, and clinics, all trying to find out what was happening to me, and I had become deathly sick. My skin turned pale, my eyes bloodshot, and bruises started popping up all over my body.
The doctors were so dumbfounded at what was causing this since it all happened so fast. After months of testing and my condition worsening, they finally found what was happening; I was diagnosed with a rare, very aggressive cancer that attacked my immune system as well as my eardrums.
I remember the day they discovered what was happening; it was just another Friday for me. I had walked into the clinic again for testing, but the doctors seemed more concerned than usual. I can vividly remember the receptionist's eyes staring at me like daggers while I was in the waiting room. Sitting in the room, I remember staring at the turquoise walls surrounding me, listening to the music that echoed through the speakers. Little did I know that would be one of the last times I listened to music. The doctors finally came to the waiting room, calling me and my parents in.
As usual, I would walk into the room and sit on the bed, but that day was different. I had rushed into the room because I wanted to get it over with as soon as possible, since every Friday after my tests, I was allowed to get a toy from the toy bin, and I loved the toy bin. I rushed onto the bed and lay there still as a board, waiting for the doctor to come. I remember him taking longer than usual until he finally entered the room, but alongside a nurse, he told me to follow her outside to the toy bin, which was strange since that was usually after. Still, I didn't pay any mind and followed.
As I left the room, I could see on the doctor's face that he was about to say something sad, and after I grabbed my toy from the bin, I walked back to the room, but it was shut and locked from the inside. The nurse noticed I was standing in front of the room and tried to distract me by asking if I "wanted another toy," but it was too late. The walls were thin, and I overheard the doctor telling my parents that they weren't sure that I would even make it past 15 and to cherish the time they had left with me; he had told them I had stage 4 cancer.
That was 5 years ago, now here I am, at 17, didn't beat the cancer, am still dying, but just pushed it back a little, you know.
A side effect of the chemo was that my hearing was taken from me, which might as well have been my life. I didn't like that I lost it immediately, but it went away a month later. One lousy month after starting my chemo, I had become deaf.
As of 4 months, I've been in a coma trapped inside my mind, lying on a hospital bed, hooked up to god knows what, pumping my body full of chemicals and toxins all to "keep me alive" but this. This isn't living.
An upside to what will most likely be my death is that they took me off the chemo. I can tell because my hearing comes now but rarely, and it's in and out, I'll take it though it's better than dying without sound, at least I can hear that cheesy radio that keeps on playing down the hall, or so I think. I don't know since I can't see, but I'm pretty sure I'm right since I heard the nurses walk in from that direction, I thought I heard the doctor speaking to my parents about my status the other day, or maybe it was longer than that. On top of everything I've discussed, I've lost my sense of time.
What a drag.
My life before I was so rudely interrupted by cancer was great, really; not much to complain about; I had friends, a great social life, and was an all-around joyful person who was always excited to try something new and exciting.
As a kid, I would run down to the pier every time I could get the chance; We lived close to the sea back then, so my dad had taught me how to fish. I fell in love with it, the weight of the rod, the feeling of being dragged towards the sea, being able to see the ripples in the water start to form as the fish came closer, and best of all, the sound of the fish jumping out of the water, slapping against the sand. What I would give to go back is too late now, but what's the harm in reminiscing?
I was never at the top of my class in any way imaginable, but I was a pretty good student, if I do say so myself, I could hold slightly above average grades throughout my academic career. However, slowly, after I lost my hearing, all of those started to fade; who knew that hearing had such an impact on your life? I felt detached from the world, like I had something important robbed or taken from me without warning.
It hurt.
I remember hearing my mother call my name home after a long school day, or I should say school; back then, school felt long every day. After the bell rings, I rush home and return before three because that's when my childhood favorite cartoon airs. Back then, my friend group consisted of 7 or 8, and it was the best. They will come to visit me here, which is nice. I wish I could thank them for still caring about me.
One of my favorite pastimes as a kid and still now is reading, whether it be novels, web novels, light novels, comics, or manga, I would devour whatever I had my hands on, trying to dissect each page or emotion it brought out of me.
Music was another big escape for me, it's like a drug, hearing something that makes you feel a certain way over and over, those escapes had me in a chokehold.
The days of playing and listening to the music of the world were so good to me. I wish I could relive those moments; I was foolish back then.
I was admitted to the hospital 4 months before my 17th birthday. That day I was brought to the ER was the day I think I lost hope in pulling through. Although I wasn't too far off from showing up in the ER just off of natural causes, I mean, I had lost my hair, my ability to speak, and worst of all, I think I started to get into those weird online conspiracy chat rooms, but that's beside the point.
The reason I was brought into the ER was because of pure un-luck; you're good pal, Aoto Yamamoto, here, was struck by a car.
That day was something straight out of your favorite isekai. I mean, come on. I was walking down the streets of New York, and due to my lack of hearing, I couldn't hear the car coming straight toward me, but that's not to say I wasn't cautious. I looked both ways and crossed when the light told me I could.
It was a clean and cut drunk driving accident that had landed me on my early deathbed.
If I'm being honest, I don't harbor all that much anger towards the driver. From my perspective, it's not like I wasn't too far off from coming to the hospital within a couple of months just from cancer. It was almost poetic, but it was just an early trip to my end.
At the moment, things as they stand don't look too good; since I'm in a coma, all I can do is talk to myself; there's nothing else besides thinking, which is the same thing as talking to myself.
I feel like I'm not in control anymore, not to say I have never been since I was deaf. I'm forced to think, but not much has changed. I honestly don't mind. It's not like I was able to talk beforehand. Now I'm doing the same sh*t that I was before being in a coma. You know, out of all of the ways I had imagined dying, this was probably one of the lower ones on my list. I had guessed my heart would give out in my sleep, but I'm not mad about this route either. Honestly, I'm pretty happy this is how I go out.
I like to think of it as somewhat f*ck you towards the cancer that has ruined my life; having it be just an unfortunate accident that takes me out and not the disease that's plagued me for the last 5 years gives me comfort knowing that anything can happen to people no matter what circumstances they're under.
A part of me hoped I would get to go out on my terms, having this big drawn-out speech with my family and friends in the room to listen to, which is ironic because I stopped trying to speak years ago, because what's the point of talking if you can't even listen?
I have been prepared for all this for the last few months, so I won't lie. I've been acting pretty emo or sad, and I don't know if you get what I'm trying to say. It's just that I wanted to kind of embrace the fact that I wasn't gonna be able to experience more of life, like going to college, losing my virginity, finding my wife, getting married, and starting a family those things so I chose to isolate myself and try to live out these few months, or so I thought with a new perspective. But it's really all hitting me now, God, it's hitting me.
I'm feeling all these unknown and unfamiliar emotions that I don't think I've genuinely felt since I changed.
It's uncomfortable.
I don't have many regrets, if any. It would be awesome to hear from you again, go to the beach, go fishing with Dad, and see the boys one last time.
F**K Aotos mind began to crack causing him immeasurable amounts of pain, he could feel himself being pulled towards something.
"tick"
"tick"
"crash"
A light turned on within Aoto's subconscious; it was dim and flickering, but that's besides the point.
Slowly, the light began to shine brighter and brighter and brighter until it was almost blinding. Aoto placed his hands over his eyes to shield himself, but it was no use; the light kept slipping through his hands. Aoto's vision started to morph, and he began to see what he could only comprehend as "hallucinations."
He saw himself standing within what seemed to be a royal library with all the knowledge in the world. As he viewed the library, he could sense the light's warmth shine down on him, showing him another scene. He was sitting in a throne that could only be described as "fit for a king." He admired the chair, thinking about how soft and smooth it was. Aoto began to rise from the chair, and as he did, he could hear what sounded like thousands of men standing to follow. Aoto glanced beneath him to see that the floor was made entirely of glass, showing what looked like an army of troops awaiting his very word.
Aoto's mind felt as though it was splitting at the seams; he felt disoriented, not knowing what was or what he should do, but at the same time, he knew exactly what to do.
Aoto's body suddenly took control, speaking "HEAR ME, OH FOUL ARMY, WE WILL RISE AND DESTROY THOSE WRETCHED CHURCH SLAVES, THIS WILL NOT BE OUR END."
As his mind took over, Aoto's vision began to deteriorate again, but not from the light. His eyes began to swell with a black, oily liquid that started flowing from his pores.
Aoto could not do anything. He watched as his words became muffled under the sound of liquid flowing out, and the liquid covered his eyes completely.
Aoto once again was left alone in darkness, locked in his mind, unable to escape.
"Do you wish to live?"
Hello…. Hello, " cried Aoto.
The voice asked yet again, "Do you wish to live?"
"WHO ARE YOU?" cried Aoto, thinking he was going mad.
The voice didn't answer and replied yet again with the same question, "Do you wish to live?".
Aoto, before he could mutter his response, continued to say, "Do you wish to continue hearing?"
An even greater silence was piled on in this already ambient void that was Aoto's mind.
"What do you mean by continuing to hear? Do you mean you can fix me?
There was a long moment where neither the voice nor Aoto exchanged any form of sound; then suddenly, the voice started to laugh uncontrollably.
"he…..he….HE..HEHEHEH".
The sound of the voice's laughter filled the abyss that Aoto was in, causing what felt like an earthquake in Aoto's mind to begin, having him spiral into fear until it went quiet.
"I can fix you, if that's what you want. I can also give you unbelievable powers, Aoto. All you have to do is say yes."
"Why do you want me? Are you even real?" Aoto asked.
The voice's tone changed yet again to a more sinister tone
.
"Do you want to live, or do you want to die here in this hospital bed. It's your only choice; no others have made it before I made it for you."
"What does that even mean?"
No response was given to Aoto's question, leaving him to answer the question.
Much time had passed, and the voice still hadn't responded, forcing Aoto's hand and finally giving a straight answer.
"Yes"
The voice returned to normal and said only one thing before appearing to leave.
"As you wish".
Within a split second after saying this, the voice left the abyss and went silent, and Aoto's mind went blank, like turning off the lights an even darker black filled the void.
Aoto's body began to sink in what looked like an endless sea of ink, falling to the bottom, not being able to see the sky.
He began to suffocate in the sea, letting the liquid fill his lungs and cover him all over, until he passed out.