Heavens Island

The boy who sought freedom

A/N

(Art credits to the owner)

Hello, I'm presenting you my newest story that I began writing only recently.

Here's the first chapter for now.

I want to know if you guys like it enough for me to continue writing it.

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I looked up at the sky and let my eyes trace the path of a bird whose wings granted it the freedom to explore boundless distances, to fly from one side of the globe to another, and to see the marvels of diverse lands. The lingering question echoed within me: would I ever attain such freedom? My mind repeated the query as the bird gradually faded into the distant horizon.

"Jisung," my brother called from the doorway.

"Hyung," I responded, tearing my gaze away from the window.

"The doctor is waiting downstairs for you," he informed me.

"I'm fine... Why did father call him again?" I questioned, but a violent cough erupted, betraying my attempt at reassurance.

"Clearly. Come don't be difficult" he said, and I gave up protesting and followed him downstairs.

I entered our family's spacious living room, where the doctor awaited me.

"Good morning, sir. Have you felt any improvement since I prescribed the medicine?" he inquired.

Seating myself across from him, I shook my head. "The cough persists, and I'm still fatigued," I admitted, prompting the doctor to jot down notes.

"Your breathing?" he probed.

"No improvement there either," I replied.

At that moment, my father entered the room. "How's my little Jisung? Is he feeling better?" he asked, met with an apologetic smile from the doctor.

"I'm afraid not," came the sobering reply.

My father's expression shifted from concern to seriousness. "What can be done, doctor?"

"I'm uncertain, but I've received word from a colleague abroad, Dr. Jonathan, about a patient with a similar illness who was cured upon moving to Heavens Island," the doctor revealed, instantly piquing my interest.

"Heavens Island? Where is it?" I interjected before my father could speak.

"It lies somewhere between Africa, India, and Oceania, nestled in the middle of the Indian Ocean," the doctor explained.

"May I contact Dr. Jonathan?" my father inquired.

"Certainly. I'll send a letter to him," the doctor confirmed, but their ensuing conversation faded into background noise as my mind wandered to this enigmatic island. Daydreams of its sights and potential adventures captivated me until another bout of coughing shattered my reverie, causing a stabbing pain in my ribs.

I hated my body. All my life it had given me nothing but pain. All my life it had given me nothing but limits.

I felt like a bird whose wings had been ripped apart. My soul wanted to see the world, but my body was sick, weak, and miserable and kept me restricted in my room.

I hated it.

"Are you alright?" asked my father rushing to help me drink some water and breathe.

"I'm fine," I said and drank the water feeling angry at myself.