Rêveur || p.jm || ✔️ [EDITING]

¹one

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Chapter 1: 9 months

"Can you repeat that again please?" my throat felt dry as if it was a desert.

The 50 years old man standing in front of me frowned. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes in motion. Struggling with himself whether to tell me those words. The words that will ruin my life forever.

"Glioblastoma" he repeated.

"Which means?" I asked confused.

He sighed again. Slowly, he took out an envelope inside the drawer. The crack of the paper sound was terribly awful for my ears. It was feeling uncomfortable enough for me. After opening the envelope, he showed me one of files inside.

With my unexperienced eyes I couldn't understand much, black clouds were everything I could witness. I was trying to keep up with his explanation.

"Doctor," I interrupted him, " just tell me what you diagnosed."

"Brain tumor ," looking me in the eyes he repeated again, "you have a growing brain tumor."

Did he just say brain tumor?

He was still talking. Explaining. But I wasn't paying attention. Only the motion of his lips were available to be catched by my brain cells. My brain cells that were dying.

"Doctor this doesn't make sense." I chuckled.

"What do you mean?" a confused expression on him.

"What I mean is that, this must be a mistake. I can't have a brain tumor, you must be mistaken."

Being desperate about what I just heard made me delusional. My doctor's eyes were drowning in sadness.

I continued "I mean I'm healthy and one of the best athletes in Texas. I do mountain climbing every weekend, I... I even stopped smoking long time ago."

yeah that's what I was. desperate, for the first in my life.

"Eun Ji" he tried to calm me down.

I grabbed the envelope and placed it inside my bag . The damn noise of the chair moving made it clear that I was leaving.

"You can't use my real name here. If you excuse me now I am leaving." I turned my back at him.

"You only have nine months to live Eun Ji. Eun Ji come and sit down. You have to be prepared and I want to help you. Please." his fatherly voice was begging me. A voice almost as sweet as my father's one...