The heaviness in the air was a sign of what lay ahead for me — a young girl who had just stepped into adulthood.
"You have two years left, Vivienne," the doctor said, his voice low, weighed down by the news.
"Two years? That's way too long. Well, anyway, I'm glad," I replied.
"Don't you feel sad about this?" he asked, surprised by my nonchalant answer.
"Not really. What's there to be sad about? You feel sad about losing things you love — not about what you want to get rid of."
He sighed. "It's nothing surprising; you've always been like this. But you should really try to enjoy these remaining two years to the fullest. Go on a trip or something."
"Hmm. Then I'll be off."
The door slammed shut behind me as I left the clinic. I have cystic fibrosis — a genetic lung disorder that flares up from time to time and now it's reached a point of no return. Most people would be scared. Not me. Death never scared me. It's not because I had a traumatic past or because I'm depressed. It's just that I never had a reason to live.
My life has been pretty normal. I have good parents, though their only complaint these days is how I suddenly became a failure in 11th grade after topping before. They say harsh things sometimes — like the marks on my report card matter more than I do. Well, that's fine by me, because it's not like I love them or anything. I'm just okay with having them as support, and they're okay with having me as their future. It's mutual.
They don't know about my condition, though. It's hard to tell them. Not because it would hurt them, but because their sudden attention would choke me before my limited time is up. And no way in hell do I want that to happen.
"Buzz! Buzz!"
Mom is calling.
"Hey, Mom."
"Hello, dear. Where are you right now? And how are your grades these days?"
"I'm on my way back to my apartment. Went for some shopping. And… about grades — I want to take a two-year break from college. I want to prepare properly."
"What? Is this really you, Vivi? Are you finally going to change?"
"Can I?"
"Of course you can! I'm so glad. Good luck with your studies."
"Okay. Bye, Mom."
Well, that was easy.
Now I just have to figure out what I'm going to do with the time I have left.
Maybe I'll pick up a book from the library.
What should I read?
Oh yeah — that one looks like exactly what I need:
"How to Make a Bucket List."
That corner looks peaceful. Let's go there.
As soon as I sat down and opened the book, I felt an uncomfortable stare land on me. I looked up. A boy around my age was sitting across from me, eyes on the title.
"Hey," he said, "why are you reading a book like that? Are you dying or something?"
"None of your business," I shot back.
"Now come on, don't be rude," he replied smoothly.
"You're the one being rude — asking a stranger about their personal choices doesn't seem very civilized."
"Who said you're a stranger? I know you. You're Vivienne — the girl whose name means 'full of life.' We were in high school together, remember?"
"No, I don't. Who are you again?"
"It's Zao. Oops — I'm late. Gotta go. See you again, Vivienne."
And just like that, he was gone.
Zao?
Who the hell was Zao again?
I took the book and returned home.
The apartment smelled like medicine.
After lunch and a quick shower, I sat on my bed and read until the clock hit 8 p.m.
To be honest, everything in that book felt kind of superficial.
I only liked the idea of going on a trip. Or stargazing.
Quiet stuff! you know, the one that doesn't take many efforts.
But seriously — who the hell kisses a random stranger just because they're dying?
I'd rather focus on the normal things.
Yeah. No romance.
I don't want someone innocent getting caught up in this mess of a life.
I grabbed a notebook.
Halfway to Never —
1.Go on a solo date for fried chicken and most delis foods.
2.Go to the park and enjoy being a child again, when no one's watching.
3.Take a trip to one of the most dangerous places — how about Antarctica?
4.Read some books.
5.Never let Mom and Dad know about my disease.
(How amusing it would be... to disappear soundlessly.)
6.Visit a village. Enjoy the silence.
7.Be selfish, just once.
If I ever make a friend… tell them everything.
(Nah. I won't.)
That's enough for now.
I couldn't think of anything else.
Suddenly, I felt a tightness in my chest —
It got hard to breathe.
A few drops of blood landed on the page. On my list as if to warn me not to flatter myself.
I wiped them away with a tissue and stood up.
Time to make dinner.
You can't possibly care about every little detail.
I'll just eat something and rest.
After eating, I went to bed but couldn't sleep.
I stared at the ceiling, thinking about going up to the roof.
The stars were so pretty tonight.
How could I sleep on a night like this?
I grabbed my camera and set it up, determined to capture the most beautiful picture of the sky.
It was perfect. Somehow, the light pollution couldn't stop the stars from shining brighter.
Sometimes, I wonder if Mom will ever know I love the sky and that I take pictures of it.
I snapped a few pictures quickly, then looked down at the people below laughing without a care in the world.
No thoughts of tomorrow, no worries, no deadlines.
And here I was, with two years on a ticking warranty that could expire the moment I messed up.
But it wasn't all that sad.
Just like when I look at the night sky, how it spreads its darkness, yet people aren't afraid of it because the stars shine so brightly.
All that darkness seems pointless before it's glow.
Sometimes, I wonder… who am I?
The star or the night?
The thought stung more than I expected.
Just then, a voice, with a familiar hush tone broke the quiet trail of thought inside me.
"Didn't think you'd actually come up here."
I turned with a surprised look.
There he was.
Zao.