Eric's life seemed nothing special, except for his tendency to withdraw into himself. Ever since he was a child, he had trouble trusting people and often felt like an outsider. At school, he was an above-average student, always in the top ten of his class, although he didn't try very hard. Like any young person, he wanted to enjoy life. Unfortunately, two weeks before starting college, he was diagnosed with epilepsy.
As he lay on the cold hospital gurney, one question haunted Eric's mind, "Why me? Wasn't it enough that I almost lost my mother as a child? That my parents split up?" He clenched his fists in fury.
No voice answered his question. "Ahh, it's no use," Eric said resignedly. He had always been good at fitting in. He knew that complaining would do no good. "All we can do is accept things and try to move on, whatever it takes. If I don't do it, who will?" he sighed.
Since that day, something had changed in Eric. He had lost his innocence, his ignorance and the childlike aura that sometimes lingers in some adults. But he learned to value his life. He loved his family and friends and would sacrifice for them. He also treasured those moments of happiness, doomed to end. But, if they didn't end, how would we know we had been happy? So, despite everything, Eric went on with his life. He followed treatment for his epilepsy, entered college and studied what he wanted to study, plus his time at college was enjoyable.
After finishing his college semester, Eric decided to take a vacation. On his way home, he encountered heavy traffic that prevented him from passing. In the distance, he caught a glimpse of a truck that had hit two cars, leaving them totaled due to brake failure. People were frightened. By the time the ambulance arrived, there was nothing left to save. Both the driver of the truck and the drivers of the cars were dead. Some may have survived the crash, but the loss of blood ended their lives. Noticing this, Eric decided to take the long way home. With the accident, it would take a while for traffic to resume. So he went through the outskirts of the city, through the mountain.
The mountain was a lonely, bleak place, where the wind whistled like a wail. As he went along the winding road, it began to rain. Eric, who was not wearing his rain suit, could only continue until he reached home. As he passed a ravine, perhaps because of the rain, the cold, or too little sleep, an epileptic seizure brought him down. It was as if the night had taken hold of him, enveloping him in its darkness. Thus, Eric died, a victim of his own illness and the fate of destiny.