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They would inject those medicines twice a day, and you would hold my hand each time as I turned my face away. You knew I hated injections, but I loved how you held my hand to give me support.


I was getting skinnier, my skin was turning paler and paler. My body had become too fragile all so suddenly. Two days after getting admitted, I wondered what would happen to me.


If I would live, or I would die.


I stared at the plain white ceiling above me. The machines kept on beeping, and I hated the IV tube that was attached to my hand. My body cramps were getting stronger, but I refused to give up.


Because I wanted to live a bit more with you, Jimin-ah.



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