"Life, huh…" a 22-year-old girl close to her deathbed whispered under her breath. Her voice trembled as she felt her life ending at any moment. She had been sick since she was a child—an unknown disease that doctors named after her, as she was the first confirmed case to have it, an unpleasant discovery. CARMELA is an incurable disease that eats away at one's lifespan for an unknown reason.
"Am I going to die without even having the chance to experience life?" She stared blankly at the ceiling of the hospital room. "Why must it be me?" Teardrops started falling from her eyes amidst the silence of the room. She looked around her private room, yet no one was there for her, even as her life was fading.
"Family…" She couldn't help but smile bitterly.
She's been abandoned—a burden to her family. That's what her parents think of her. Even the medicine meant to keep her alive a little longer costs too much. At some point, she stopped counting how many times her existence had become an inconvenience. And even though she somehow reached 22 years when the doctors said she would only live until 17, it still feels meaningless.
"22 years…" Her voice is flat. "For the past 22 years, all I can do is lie in this bed…"
She exhales slowly, staring at nothing. "I'd rather it end early. Is this torture?"
Her eyes drift toward the door she has never walked through. "How can I be happy when I've never even been outside this room?"
"BEEP—!" The heart monitor sounded suddenly as she felt her life fading. The doctors rushed into the room in a panic, tools in hand, doing everything they could to revive her. But what could they do? The person they were trying to save had already lost hope and given up.
"Is this it? Am I finally resting? This damn curse…" Her breath was fading, yet a faint, genuine smile rested on her face.
"What a pointless life I've lived… pathetic."
It wasn't self-mockery. That was simply how she felt.
Helpless.
All her life, all she ever did was lie in bed, conserving what little energy she had. Even emotions were a burden to her body. Whenever she felt sadness, happiness, excitement, or fear, she knew her death was only speeding up.
That was the life Carmela lived.
She managed to prolong it by acting like a machine, stripping herself of emotion. And because of that, everything she had endured now felt pointless—
and pathetic.
"If reincarnation is true… I'll live however I want."
Amidst the people trying to make her heart beat again, all she could think of was living another life—one where she had the hope of being herself.
"BEEEEEEP—!"
"Patient time of death: 2:43 p.m."