Scene Begins
A man stands outside a hospital entrance, his shoulders slumped, his eyes hollow.
He stares at a folded piece of paper in his hand—news he clearly wishes he had never read.
Without a word, he crushes it and tosses it into a nearby trashcan.
For a moment, he simply sits on a bench, elbows on his knees, staring at the ground like the world has stopped turning.
A long, trembling sigh escapes him—one of those sighs that come from deep inside a tired soul.
Eventually, he pushes himself up.
He looks left, then right, then up at the sky—lost, directionless, almost broken.
Just as he takes his first step away, a small figure appears in front of him.
A little girl.
Her clothes are torn and dirty, hanging off her skinny frame.
Her arms look fragile, like sticks.
Her face is pale, her eyes half-empty—like someone who hasn't slept or eaten properly in days.
The man blinks, surprised.
She has nothing to do with him… but something about her stops him from walking away.
"Are you okay, little one?" he asks gently. "Are you looking for someone?
If you are, I can help you."
The girl stiffens.
Her lips tremble as if she wants to speak but fears the answer she might receive.
Finally, she lowers her head.
"H-hey… uhm, mister… I haven't eaten anything.
So if you can help… could you buy me something? P-please?"
For a moment, the man says nothing. Not out of hesitation—but out of heartbreak.
"Of course," he says quietly. "But… where are your parents? Or your guardian?
Are you alone?"
When he mentions "parents," the girl's expression breaks.
Her breath catches.
A sniffle escapes.
"I don't have parents…
I-I do have a brother… but he hasn't come home for a while…"
Her voice cracks halfway through the sentence.
The man's eyes soften.
He kneels down slightly, trying to level himself with her.
"Alright," he says with a gentle smile that doesn't quite reach his tired eyes.
"Forget all of that for now. Let's go get something good to eat.
Today, I'm going to give you the best day you've ever had.
Let's start with ice cream. You can have every flavor."
He points to a nearby ice cream shop.
The girl blinks in confusion.
She wonders, Why is this man helping me? We just met three minutes ago…
Part of her wants to refuse.
But the colorful ice cream she hasn't tasted in so long makes her resolve melt.
Her eyes brighten with sudden joy.
"YES! YES! LET'S DO IT! THANK YOU, MISTER!"
The man can't help but smile slightly at her enthusiasm.
"Have you ever been to a park?" he asks.
"No… I've never been," she admits.
"My brother used to say he'd take me, but… he never does…"
The man's expression dims for a moment.
"I see. Then after we finish our ice cream, let's go to the park, okay?
We'll play every game there."
The girl's face lights up like a small sun.
"Yes, mister! Thank you!"
---
Scene transitions:
1. The man and the girl sitting on a bench, happily eating ice cream.
2. The two of them walking into the park, the girl staring at everything with amazement.
3. Both of them playing multiple games—running, laughing, her joy echoing like a forgotten melody.
4. Eating fried chicken, cotton candy, popcorn, turkey legs, and other snacks until the girl can barely hold in her excitement.
5. Sitting together in a movie theatre, the girl watching the screen with wide, sparkling eyes.
---
Night falls quicker than either expected.
To end the day, they walk into a quiet playground and sit on the swing set.
The man starts swinging gently, but the girl does not.
Her excitement has faded.
She sits still, staring at the dirt beneath her feet.
"Hey," the man asks softly, "was today fun?
Was it the best day you've ever had?"
She nods, slowly.
"Then why the sad face?"
His voice is calm, patient.
"Something on your mind? You can tell me. I'm an adult—I can help."
The girl takes a shaky breath.
A small worrying sigh escapes her.
"What if my brother left me… just like my parents did?"
Her voice is so small it almost disappears.
"I'm scared, mister. What if I have to live alone…
I don't want to be alone. It's scary…"
Her tears fall—silent, heavy droplets carrying more pain than a child should ever feel.
"Am I the problem?" she whispers.
"A mistake?
If I was never born… maybe they wouldn't have left us…"
The man stops swinging.
Something inside him shifts.
He begins swinging harder, higher and higher, as if gathering strength from the motion.
"It's fine," he says firmly.
"Everything will get better. Trust me— it always does."
He swings higher.
"Just like how you met me today… and had the best day of your life.
Things get better.
You just have to believe."
He raises his voice.
"SO SAY IT WITH ME!"
The girl looks at him with tearful eyes.
"I'M NOT THE PROBLEM!" the man shouts.
"FUCK Y'ALL!
I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING WRONG!
GO TO HELL!
I WANNA LIVE! I WANNA LIVE!"
The girl blinks—surprised—then suddenly laughs through her tears.
"That's funny, mister…"
She wipes her eyes and screams,
"YEAH! YOU KNOW WHAT?!
FUCK YOU, MOM!
FUCK YOU, DAD!
ONE DAY I'M GONNA MAKE YOU REGRET LEAVING ME!
I'M NOT A MISTAKE! YOU HEAR ME?!
HAHAHA!"
The man's swing reaches its highest point… then begins to slow.
Weaker.
Lower.
Tired.
The girl's swing starts gaining momentum—slowly, then stronger and stronger—
like she's finally able to breathe.
Until the man's swing stops completely.
He lets out a rough, strained breath.
"Hey… go home. It's late. Your brother's waiting—I'm sure of it.
I'm sorry… I can't take you home. I've got something to do.
So go before it gets too late."
The girl hops off the swing and bows politely.
"Thank you, mister.
If we meet again in the future, I'll be the one to pay.
Thank you so much. I had so much fun.
Goodbye. Please take care of yourself… you don't look okay."
He tries to smile.
"Huh… I'm just a little sick. Nothing more. I'm fine.
You take care of yourself, okay?"
She steps closer.
"Pinky promise me, mister.
Promise we'll meet again in the future."
He links his pinky with hers.
"I promise."
The girl starts running toward the bus station.
Halfway there, she stops, turns around, and yells with all her strength,
"GOODBYE, MISTER! THANK YOUUU!"
The man raises a weak hand and waves slowly.
He watches her get on the bus.
Only when the doors close does he finally let his body fall from the swing to the ground.
"Agh… why is it so cold…? Isn't it summer…?"
His voice fades.
He closes his eyes.
And he never opens them again.