Selfish Prologue
There is this phenomenon that I used to hear about on doctors shows, where some people can actually remember their past lives. I don't remember the scientific name for it, maybe it was because I was too busy scoffing at the idea, but I thought it was a bunch of bullshit. I understand that there are some unexplained things in the world, but seriously? Remembering your past life? That's a little far-fetched don't you think? I didn't believe the possibility of that happening, I mean what if your life was so fucked up and when you died and then "reborn" again, don't you think it's harsh to make people remember their past lives. For what, I think that was God's way of punishing us, for messing around with the bible too much. In the end, I died believing that it remembering your past life was complete bullshit, but that thought was put on the back burner in favor of trying to fight stomach cancer.
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Selfish is what my family used to tell me not to be. They said that everything that is happening to me is for my own good and sake and I shouldn't be selfish. That was a lie. That was a lie told to me, to make me believe that I wasn't being replaced, that I wasn't being forgotten, but that was the delusion I was forced to hang on to, until a bitter reality forced me to wake up and to realized that I was replaced, abandon, and uncared for. My doctor, the only person who cared for me, broke the news to me that I had stomach cancer own my nineteenth birthday. I was so terrified, not because of the cancer, but because I was going to be blamed for it. So for the longest time, two years I think, I hid it from my family. And it wasn't until I collapse in front of them cough up blood did they realized what was wrong with me. But instead of getting angry for hiding it, they got mad saying that I was being selfish, pretending to be sick so that I could get attention. And that's how I ended up fighting cancer alone.
I tried to live my life as happily as I could when the cancer stop growing or disappeared temporarily, but in the in my happiness was short lived every time somebody in my family came to harass me about my sickness. I think even now they probably don't believe that I died of cancer and is probably spitting on my grave. I hope that my doctor honored my last request and buried me without a ceremony and alerting my family. I hope that I will get a second chance to live again and this time, I can be happy.