He saw only darkness—not a single light pierced his vision, as if he were trapped in an endless void of nothingness. Then, as suddenly as it had come, he opened his eyes to find blood everywhere. His little sister was there, holding his hand, motionless and lifeless.
Wracked with fear, he pulled her tight in his arms as tears streamed down his cheeks. His vision grew blurry, and the wail of police sirens echoed in his ears. Exhausted beyond measure, he could barely utter a word—he felt utterly helpless.
Thankfully, ambulances arrived moments later for the accident victims. They lifted him and his sister onto gurneys. Doctors detected a faint pulse in him and rushed him into an ambulance bound for the hospital. His sister, having been pronounced deceased, was transported separately.
He was taken straight to an operating room, still conscious but with his sight slowly fading. Only sheer determination kept him from slipping away entirely in the face of such devastation.
Doctors administered anesthesia and pain relievers before beginning surgery on his severely wounded body. For six and a half hours, they worked tirelessly to save his life.
When he finally woke up, his vision was still blurry—but a profound sense of calm washed over him. He could make out lights and the steady beep of heartbeat monitors around the room, and he scanned every detail as best he could. A nurse approached to check on him and gasped in surprise at how quickly he had regained consciousness.
"Where... am I?" he asked.
The nurse stared at him—as if he were either a medical marvel or simply far too alert so soon—and dropped her patient notes in shock before hurrying off to find the other doctors.
"Guys! He's awake already!"
Upon hearing this, the doctors rushed to where the boy was. The nurse led them to his room, and when they arrived, they were stunned by what they saw—though he had suffered severe concussions and injuries from the car crash, he was remarkably alert and functional. While he still looked unwell, weighed down by trauma and the effects of the accident, he could move his limbs freely.
Some doctors called it a miracle from above; others speculated it might be some kind of superpower. Neither was correct, however—it was simply his natural fast regenerative abilities that had allowed his tendons and minor fractures to heal in just six hours.
"This is a blessing from the gods!"
"Yeah... i doubt so."
The doctors whispered among themselves, their curiosity piqued about the boy's body. They debated whether to run experiments on him—but knew it would mean crossing lines no medical professional should. Not only would it violate hospital rules, but none of the doctors or nurses could bring themselves to do it; they feared being consumed by guilt and facing legal consequences. Yet one doctor was driven by such intense curiosity that they decided to take action, and approached to ask...
"What is your name, patient?"
The doctor's voice held an unnatural curiosity, his eyes seeming false as greed clouded his mind. The boy replied warily.
"Why should I tell you that?"
He was no fool—his strict parents had always prepared him for situations like this. The doctor spoke in a calm tone, though his demeanor felt off.
"I was just... interested in your sudden recovery. In fact, you could earn over a thousand, if you let us run some tests on your body for a short while!"
He was determined to make the boy agree at once, using manipulative tactics and trying to assert an air of authority. His ego swelled, and his greed only grew stronger. But the boy refused firmly.
"No—I would never do such a thing, and I won't let strangers meddle with my body! I've already lost my sister, and now you're asking me this?"
The doctor's manipulation was fruitless—it had no effect at all, thanks to the boy's natural wariness and readiness to question any demand made of him. The doctor spoke coldly in response.
"I see. Well... farewell, patient."
He turned and walked away, and the boy watched his retreating figure closely, his suspicion deepening with every step the doctor took. Then a warm hand rested on his shoulder.
"Are you okay?"
The boy flinched—unaccustomed to being touched like this—and gently moved her hand away from his shoulder before replying hesitantly.
"I'm fine..."
The nurse smiled warmly at his brief reply.
"That's great to hear."
Just then, another doctor called out to her from across the ward. She quickly called back that she'd be there in a moment, then turned to the boy and gently tapped his forehead.
"Be good, alright?"
She waved as she walked away. The boy felt a flicker of interest in her, but no real emotion—his mind was clouded by the tragic loss of his sister. He knew he would be held responsible when he returned home, and he could already picture it—his father and mother would lash out at him, perhaps even beat him. Worst of all, they might cast him aside and say he was no longer their son.
"..."
"I'm so sorry..."
"I'm so... so... sorry!"
"I'm such a bad son... I've been so much worse than that!"
"Forgive me, sister... please forgive me... I couldn't drive properly... I..."
"I'm sorry."
He teared up, his tears soaking into the hospital blanket—until the nurse returned suddenly, holding tissues in her hands. She wiped his tears gently and softly, like a caring mother comforting her crying child.
"Don't worry... I'll always be here for you."
The nurse had a gentle glow about her—fair skin, blonde hair, and blue eyes that were both striking and calming. To him, she looked like a mother figure, and being near her felt soothing... he began to settle down as he leaned into her arms.
"That's right... you may be a teenager now, but you're still acting like a little one, huh... that's sweet."
After comforting him, he drifted off to sleep. She carefully laid him back in the hospital bed to rest, then patted his head gently with a warm smile.
"Rest well."