I had lived my whole life lying on my bed. Not even once I had experienced the sensation of walking using my own feet. To had a weak body, was such a curse.

I grew up with strength just enough for me to sit in front of my computer to play some games, and that was how I spent my remaining days.

Day by day, my illness got worse to the point that even just moving my fingers was already giving me unbearable pain.

In my eighteen years of living this life, every passing day, I was yearning for the one who brought me here to finally end this suffering.

Maybe, God eventually saw me one day and said.

"I think he already suffered enough, I should end his misery."

That faithful day finally came, my condition became worse than ever that the doctors could not do anything to save me.

I did not have consciousness at the very last moments of that miserable life, but I knew my mother was crying and still wishing for her 'God' to save me.

She didn't know.

My very end was what I'm always wishing for.

I hope in my next lifetime, her so-called 'God' will give me a better life.