Cure

There was once a baby who was born with a terrible, deadly syndrome. It had a 100% fatality rate, and there was no cure the doctors could apply. He had it from birth, the doctors said, and that it had developed in his mother's womb when he was still in the embryonic state.

As the child grew up, he became aware of his state, and as all kids will do, he became curious. He constantly asked his parents many questions, most of which they did not have the answer to. But even as he grew older, the syndrome took its toll on him. He became more and more depressed, always searching for an answer, and not understanding.

Throughout his short years, he spent his time working, and playing, but never did he forget his questions. Why he was cursed with this, he did not know, but it felt like a cruel joke. He met people that were afflicted with similar syndromes and felt a connection with them. However, many of the others did not question themselves and never wondered 'Why me?' Eventually, he left those to discover his answers alone.

Slowly, the symptoms began to show. Over the years, his bones deteriorated, his speech slurred and his mind began to fade. His skin first became loose, then spotted with all sorts of blemishes. He had trouble walking and was eventually confined to a wheelchair, and soon after that, he began to constantly feel tired.

Even as the syndrome took its toll on his body, he continued to question it. He considered many answers, none of them satisfactory. There seemed to be no relief, no reason, and no end to the question... why? Furious, he cursed everything around him, he became enraged, and he refrained from speaking to those closest to him, convinced that they knew the answer and would not tell him.

And finally, one day, he died, his questions all unanswered, as the syndrome took its final grasp on his body and soul. Finally, cured... finally, rid of the disease we call 'life.'