Saddest of what you could consider sad, even killing myself was impossible for me to accomplish. There was nothing sharp or pointed near me that I could use to slash my wrist except for a very small needle, which my mom would give me to sew little fragrant flowers together that she would pick up from our garden. My dad nailed some wood across the ceiling of my room and fastened to it two parallel ropes that hanged down toward me. Then he attached three pieces of wood at the end part of the ropes, which he carefully shaped and smoothed with sand paper much like a rope ladder choppers use. Through it, I could help myself up if I want to get up. I could successfully lift my back a few inches from the bed. It was also part of my rehab exercise but the strain on my arms and on my mind was becoming unbearable. There were times that I thought of tying the rope around my neck but I would need to crawl up the ropes to the ceiling to do that. Life had become so frustrating.

However, the love that surrounded me was just too overwhelming for me to kill myself. I remembered how my mom and dad endured sleepless nights while I was still in the hospital. They often skipped meals unconsciously, patiently waiting outside the doors of the ICU, watching over me at a distance through a small window behind my bed with tears flowing from their eyes. They had no second thoughts of selling our car and spending their hard-earned savings to sustain the financial demands of my medication. They did everything possible to keep me alive. How ungrateful could I have been to consider such a wasteful escape! The comfort their love had given me made me feel so precious that it drove away any idea of being worthless.

Still, I felt so broken and depressed. It seemed like my life had stopped. I was scared that I could no longer go back to school and fulfill my dreams. It was a shivering fear no amount of human bravery could seem to face. I felt life had become a cruel destiny. I could not make a choice. I was like a dead leaf that had fallen, blown to an unknown direction by the wind. I groped for a purpose. I searched for a reason…

>Chapter 8: Light in the Dark

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