Jaiden walked through the rainy night, each step bearing the weight of sadness in his eyes. Every drop of rain, like his wounds and bruises, carried the storm within him as he made his way home.

As he approached the door, a slap greeted him. He saw the cold stares of his two brothers and the hurt look on his mom’s face.

He flinched, hurt by the sudden action. Holding his right cheek, she shouted at him, her eyes filled with tears and rage, demanding to know where his sister was.

He was confused, but still, he answered while stuttering.

"W-we encountered a thug, b-but I told her to run and ask for help, but she didn't come back. I-I thought she went home."

"You thought?!" she yelled. "It’s your fault she's missing in the first place! Why didn’t you search for her instead of going home?"

He was hurt, but he stayed silent. His eyes betrayed a hint of defeat and tears.

His mom saw the tears in his eyes. She calmed down and took in the state of her son.

She stopped shouting, feeling guilty, but pushed the thought aside and spoke with slight anger.

"I told you to never approach her. She's always in danger when she's with you."

His mom turned her back on him. Coincidentally, her phone rang, informing her that they had found her daughter, which put her mind at ease.

After a minute, she spoke.

"From now on, you're going to transfer schools. You're not allowed to approach her or talk to her."

After saying those words, his mom exited the house, on her way to his sister.

At the end of the chaos, he found eyes staring at him with pity and hatred.

As he looked up to meet theirs, they scattered and ignored him, as if nothing had happened.

The pain, humiliation, and misunderstanding grew and grew until no words could form.

Dislike and hatred were visible in his family's eyes, and the bond they once had was breaking and disappearing into the cold, empty air.

How could he tell them that he didn’t try to approach his sister and put her in danger?

How could he explain his side when they weren’t trying to understand him?

How could he find the courage to say those words when the same blood flows through their veins, yet he felt so distant?

Years went by like that, with no one to call or lean on.

Instead of voicing those words on the tip of his tongue, he chose to bury them in a deep void, where no one could hear or see.

He found his way into the attic, a place of solitude yet comfort. No family left to share a moment with, and no uncomfortable stares to suffocate the room.

He chose to distance himself from them because he knew his family had begun to consider kicking him out of the Gunderson family.

He slept in a dark and empty room, the cold wind drying his tears and brushing against his skin. He was too tired, yet his mind was occupied by the loud screams of his thoughts, keeping him awake as always until midnight.

He woke to the sound of the alarm. His head ached terribly, but he still dragged himself to the bathroom.

After washing up, he went downstairs to cook breakfast and then walked to school alone.

It had become his routine every day since he was 15 years old. He had no one to serve him breakfast and no one to drive him to school.

His family was the renowned "Gunderson Family," the most influential and wealthiest in the city. His mom had been the richest investor before she married his father, the owner of Gunderson Corp. His brother was a successful actor, and another was a CEO.

His family had it all, but not him. He received the worst treatment from the servants, and his family ignored him. He had to work day and night to cover his expenses and provide for himself.

As he arrived at school, someone bumped into him.

"Uggh—I'm sorry..."

"Hey, look where you're going, nerd."

"I-I'm sorry... I... I’m—"

"Cut to the chase. Where's my homework?"

"I... I'm sorry... I-I forgot it yesterday."

"You should know the consequences of your actions, right?"

He trembled, the fear of what was coming next overtaking him. He spoke up, his voice shaky.

"Please, give me some time... I'll finish it now."

"You can't finish it now since I’ll be passing these out this morning. Do you understand?"

"Let me just take my frustration out on you, mmh?"

The bully smirked and dragged him by his shirt to the back of the classroom building, shoving him into the wall, punching and kicking him as hard as they could.

His pleading was useless, and his body started to lose all its strength. They left him lying on the cold floor, helpless and unable to stand, until his vision slowly faded into darkness.

He woke up, finding it was almost night, the dusk settling in. He struggled to sit up, the pain in his belly making it difficult. He stared into nothing for a moment, a hint of hopelessness and tears visible in his eyes. After a minute, he searched for his phone in his pocket, realizing he was almost late for his night shift.

Determined, he did his best to pull himself up and stand, pushing through the pain to make it to his night shift.

He should have walked to the café since bus fare was too expensive for him, but even walking was difficult. So, he took the bus, knowing his manager wouldn’t tolerate late workers.

When he arrived, as expected, his manager questioned him sternly.

"Why are you late?"

"I'm sorry, sir. I fell asleep. It won't happen again, I promise."

He answered, looking down, determined to keep his job. It was his second time being late, and he knew his manager didn’t tolerate excuses. He prayed he wouldn’t lose his job.

"Tell me, did you really just fall asleep, or is there another reason?"

"Yes, sir. I really fell asleep."

"Fine. Go to work. This is the last time I’ll allow it. There won’t be a next time, got it?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. I’ll do my best!"

The manager gave Jaiden a dubious look as he passed by, noticing how he seemed to be struggling to walk, but he pushed the thought aside.

As Jaiden walked to the back door of the kitchen to grab his apron, he felt dizzy and stumbled into a locker. Still, he continued working, cleaning the tables, and serving the customers.

Jaiden didn’t interact with his coworkers, as he was an introvert, except for his manager, with whom he occasionally spoke. He had no friends in school or at work. He focused solely on his job and studies.

The clock ticked to 8 p.m., and Jaiden finished his night shift. He exited the café, saying goodbye to his manager.

After his shift, he walked 10 to 12 minutes to get to the "Doggie House," a home for stray and rescued dogs. He worked there, caring for the animals.

It wasn’t a burden or about the money; he loved the work more than anything in the world. He had a soft spot for animals, especially dogs.

After he arrived, he opened the gate and was immediately greeted by a bunch of dogs running toward him. He kneeled down, petting them as their tails wagged excitedly.

Then, the door opened, revealing Arnold.

Arnold treats Jaiden as his grandson, he alway give him food and takes care of him when he comes to his house.

Despite the sad and painful day, Jaiden felt a wave of relief upon seeing Arnold. He walked toward him and embraced him, and his hugged him back, offering a sense of comfort.

This place was special to Jaiden—a place where he could run to, a sanctuary where he could cry when he felt broken, and where the weight of the world seemed to lift. It was the one place he felt loved and comforted, something he hadn’t experienced in years.

As Jaiden walked, his movements were slow and hesitant, each step faltering under the weight of exhaustion.

"Jaiden, have you eaten yet?" Arnold asked, concern creasing his brow. "You should get something to eat first. You need energy, especially if you’re going to take care of the dogs."

Jaiden didn’t answer immediately. His struggle was evident as he kept his gaze lowered, eyes shadowed with pain.

Arnold noticed the shift. "What happened? Did someone hurt you again?"

Jaiden's eyes welled with tears, but he didn’t speak. He stayed silent, staring at the ground, lost in his thoughts.

"Jaiden..." Arnold said softly, his voice breaking the heavy silence. "You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. But I need to take care of your wounds first."

With gentle hands, Arnold guided Jaiden to sit down, then carefully began tending to the bruises on his belly—each one a painful reminder of the violence Jaiden had endured. His heart ached as he worked, wishing there was more he could do, but the harsh truth was that in their world, money and power were often the only things that could bring justice, especially in the elite school Jaiden attended.

Jaiden’s family was a subject they had both avoided. Arnold suspected the truth—Jaiden wasn’t just hurt by others at school, but perhaps by the indifference at home. Each time Arnold had tried to bring it up, the topic of whether his parents knew he was bullied, Jaiden had shut down, not wanting to share the deep pain that was clearly there. Arnold respected that, understanding that Jaiden wasn’t ready to open up.

After tending to Jaiden’s wounds, Arnold sighed. "You’ve done enough, Jaiden. Don’t worry about the dogs today. Let me handle them. Go home, rest, and take care of yourself."

Jaiden hesitated. His gaze lingered on the path that led to the dogs’ shelter, torn between his duty to them and his own needs.

"But... the dogs..." Jaiden murmured, his voice filled with uncertainty. "They need me."

"I know," Arnold replied gently. "But you need to take care of yourself first. They’ll be fine. I promise. You can't help them if you're not okay."

Jaiden still hesitated, but after a long pause, his shoulders slumped, defeated by the weight of his own exhaustion. It was hard to let go, but maybe, just this once, Arnold was right.

"Alright..." Jaiden said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

But as he turned to leave, his head suddenly swam, and his vision blurred. Before he could take another step, the world around him tilted, and the darkness closed in.

Jaiden slowly regained consciousness, his vision focusing on the white ceiling above. As his surroundings became clearer, he realized he was in a hospital. Arnold was asleep in the chair next to his bed. When Jaiden tried to sit up, Arnold stirred and woke up.

"You're awake. How are you?" Arnold asked, his voice filled with concern. "I told you, you should take care of yourself."

"Why are you still working so hard when your body can't take it anymore?"

Jaiden felt a wave of guilt wash over him. He knew how much Arnold cared for him, treating him like his own grandson. He felt sorry for worrying him, especially so late at night. All he could say was, "Sorry, Grandpa."

"You don’t have to apologize, okay?" Arnold replied gently. "I just want you to take care of yourself."

"I will, Grandpa," Jaiden said, his voice soft. "You should go home and rest. Don’t worry about me. I’ll go home after I rest here for a little while."

"No," Arnold insisted, shaking his head. "I’ll stay until you're discharged. I want to make sure you're healthy."

Arnold paused before continuing, his tone serious. "I also requested a CT scan from the doctor since you hit your head hard when you fainted."

"I promise I’ll take care of myself from now on," Jaiden assured him. "I won’t work if I know my body can’t handle it."

"I’m still young, Grandpa. Fainting won’t kill me."

Jaiden gave his grandfather a reassuring smile, trying to ease his worries. Not knowing the devastating fact was about to unfold. After a moment, Arnold sighed, then nodded, reluctantly agreeing. "Alright, but make sure to check your CT scan before you go home."

His grandfather left the hospital, and after a while, the doctor came in and asked, "Where is your grandfather?"

"He went home a while ago," Jaiden replied.

The doctor handed Jaiden his CT scan results. "I need you to come with me; I have something important to tell you."

Jaiden felt a knot form in his stomach, his nerves kicking in. He had been experiencing frequent headaches and dizziness, signs he knew weren’t normal. As he walked down the hallway, he mentally braced himself for whatever the doctor was about to say, preparing himself to accept the results.

When they arrived at the doctor’s office, the doctor’s tone was heavy with gravity. "I’m afraid I have some very difficult news to share with you," he said, his words concerned and final. "The CT scan results show that you have a brain tumor. It’s located in the brainstem. After reviewing the images and your condition, we believe the tumor is advanced. Based on what we see, we estimate you have approximately two months left."

The words struck like a cruel blow to Jaiden's chest. They hung in the air, suffocating him, and he found it hard to breathe, let alone comprehend what he had just heard. His mind raced, struggling to process the weight of it all.

"I know this is overwhelming," the doctor continued, his voice steady but laced with sympathy. "It’s important for you to have support during this time. We can focus on managing your symptoms to ensure you’re as comfortable as possible. I can also connect you with palliative care services to help with both physical and emotional support."

"I understand this is a lot to take in," the doctor added, his tone softening. "Take all the time you need, and feel free to ask any questions—now or later. We’ll be with you every step of the way."

Jaiden’s voice trembled, barely above a whisper. "Doctor, can I be discharged now?"

"I’ll let you know when I’m ready to proceed with surgery. I need time to think."

"Of course, you can be discharged once the papers are processed."

"And please inform me when you're ready for surgery. I will do everything I can to help."

"Thank you, doctor. I will take my leave now."

"No worries," the doctor replied quietly, but Jaiden could feel the weight of his words lingering.

Jaiden bowed his head slightly and turned toward the exit, each step heavier than the last. As he walked down the hallway, the full weight of the doctor’s words crashed down upon him. Two months. That was all he had left. The world around him seemed to blur as sadness and pain, not from the outside but from deep within, overwhelmed him. His tears fell silently, unnoticed, as his heart shattered with the burden of a future so cruelly cut short.

It was as if the world had turned its back on him, offering no solace, no comfort—just the harsh, biting reality of an untimely death. In that moment, Jaiden felt utterly alone, stranded in a place where time had betrayed him, and the fragile thread of life seemed to snap with every passing second.

How could an 18-year-old bear this? How could he carry the weight of his own mortality in a world that had never been kind to him? There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide—only the crushing truth that his journey, so young, was nearing its end.