There I was, standing amidst the waves of the ocean. Slowly, I watched the sun finally set down to its hiding place as darkness starts to cover the place. It was serene, a delight to the eyes. I closed them for a while hoping that as soon as I open them, everything would change. I can feel my heart skip its beat.
Ten...
Nine... the countdown has started.
Like the setting sun, I will soon come to a rest. But unlike it, I will no longer shine tomorrow. Today is my last day. I know that some of you are trying to fathom what I am trying to say or what is going through my mind right now. But trust me, even I cannot understand my own situation. Yet, one thing is clear for me. I am dying.
Eight...
Seven...
Six...
My life is finally coming to an end. No, I am not joking. Death is not a joke. It is the truth that we are all afraid to face, but not me. I have long accepted my fate. But somehow, I am very frustrated. I have not yet done what I love and hopefully would suppose to do. I am envious of the things normal kids do outside their own houses. I don't even have a home. The hospital has been my silent sanctuary all these years and I really, really wanted to explore that world outside. It is like I am trapped in a chamber that reminds me of my illness.
Five...
Four...
Right now, everything seems so clear. I can almost see that light. It is so brilliant that no other light could be compared to it, even the sun's rays. I didn't imagine it to be that blinding.
Three...
Two...
I am ready to go now. But something – no, someone – is stopping me. Deep inside, I can feel this little shock that is striking on my nerves. Suddenly, I heard a voice. Where did it come from? I barely had a clue. “Please, don't leave me... I love you”, it said. It came from a familiar voice yet I cannot recall. It sounds like a voice of a woman of my age.
My thoughts were then disarranged, emotions blurred. What is happening? From that moment, I want to escape that light and search for the voice but I cannot control a thing.
And then the clock stroked once more.
One.
My name is Tristan Andersen, seventeen years old and this is my story, a simple one which I will pass on to the future generation. I assure you that this is yet another common story that lies between the pages of common book. An riveting tale about life, death and the love that comes in between. And if you insist on wanting to know my story, then go ahead and read for yourself. But first, I have to ask you a question: in a battle between life and love, which would you choose?
BINABASA MO ANG
The 8th Wish
Teen Fiction“It was like this place was the only place I knew where everyone can be who they want to be, who they really are. No pretentions at all. And for a minute, I didn’t wanted this moment to end. I never knew that fun could be this fun. These all came by...
