Chapter Four- Six Years of Hell

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Karma

With Nagisa next to me, I felt like I could say anything and it wouldn't affect me like it used to.

"Well, it started six years ago, when I was only sixteen...

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I had just finished the testing that would allow me to study more about running my own business.  I was leaving the building with multiple other kids my age, or at least around my age, when I suddenly had trouble breathing.  The days prior to that, I was coughing up weird things.  Little green circles but I didn't tell anyone since I needed to complete the test in order to achieve my dreams of becoming a CEO. I didn't think it would end up almost killing me.

When I was walking out of the building, I was wheezing and leaning against one of the trees on the outside.  Some of the other students were staring at me, but none tried to help until I finally collapsed onto the hard concrete. It was getting harder to breathe and I was coughing up more of the green balls. Someone had called an ambulance and, while I waited, helped me sit up to breathe easier.  Another person gave me a handkerchief to cough up in.  About ten minutes later, the ambulance showed up. I couldn't stand so they had to carry me into the vehicle on a gurney.  Taking me to my first, serious, hospital visit.

The doctors there didn't know what was going on.  They ran test and it seemed I was fine. A little scratched up from my fall, but that's all. Nothing they found would explain why I had fallen and couldn't breathe.  The best they could come up with was an anxiety attack but my parents and I didn't believe it was that simple. My parents seemed to be going crazy with trying to find answers.  They would stay up late at night trying to find something, anything, about what was happening to me.  Hoping it wouldn't kill me and that they would have more time with me. Or just for me to have time at all.

About a year later, I had visited four different hospitals and  no one could find anything.  That was before you could really see what was wrong with me.  Before you could scan and just suddenly recognize something strange actually inside of me. Something was there..

It was another year later at an older hospital in Italy who found something strange in me.  The had just did a lung scan and the result came back with something weird. The image showed something growing in my lungs. Not growing, but blooming.  Small flowers were blooming in my lungs and it took a full two years for them to develop even slightly. In the beginning, I was coughing them up so they couldn't even grow.  After two years, they eventually began budding.  

A few more years passed and I was unable to do a lot of things before having a coughing fit and hacking up different types of buds. I couldn't go to school and took a lot of online classes plus had multiple tutors to help me. I barely talked to anyone from the "outside" since it was unknown if I was contagious or not.  I didn't make any friends and didn't really wish to.  I had more hospital visits but no doctors really knew what was happening to me. It's a really unknown illness and the only thing we could find were fake stories about a disease called "Hanahaki".  Where people cough up flowers from unrequited love.  But I knew that I've never been in love. I never tried dating before and mostly did stuff just to mess around. I'm more serious about work and school than anything. Which made me question why I had this disease only recorded as something fake?

Before I knew it, hospital after hospital, year after year.. I only became worse.  Now, the flowers are almost fully bloomed and almost completely covering my lungs.  I now cough up flower petals and blood instead of buds.. and I wonder.. What happens when the flowers bloom fully? What happens to me? My lungs? Am I still going to be alive or will I die? I'm still so young, I haven't experienced anything really fun. 

I can still remember my mother's and father's face when they heard that basically every doctor didn't know what was wrong.  After a while, I lost hope in finding any cure.  My mother still keeps trying.  I can't tell if she really thinks there is a cure out there, or if she's just tricking herself to believe it. 

I know my father stopped believing.  Any time he looks at me, I feel like he can only see a casket which is why he tries to avoid eye-contact with me.  He's quiet now. Barely talks. Hardly ever smiles.  His eyes deep and sad like.  I supposed losing your only son could do that to you.  I might not be dead yet, but it seems we are all ready for the day to come.  I had six years, and most likely less than one now.  My flowers were only getting worse. And it seems I'm stuck with the sad ending of death.. When I think like this.. I wonder if all my time was just wasted..

How could something describe as beautiful and full of love be killing me so easily? 

these are my  flowers.

They are not beautiful or full of love.

They kill and destroy the places they bloom.

My flowers..

My incurable flowers..

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