I didn't expect it to come back again, but it did.
The needles that pierce right into the skin again and again just so that I can continue to live, just so that the fever will go away, just so that mortality does not have a going concern.
Why did I even bother?
I can't breathe, my heart can only race for breath, but no matter how hard the lung tried to capture the oxygen, there seems to be none. The brain felt light, the heart felt pain, the body enduring high degree of temperature like years before, but cold sweat broke out like they are from the polar, grasping every bit of oxygen the earth can provide.
And yet I live once again.
But for how long? How much longer? Will I have to endure this again? Do I need to be reminded of this pain and agony of mortal weakness?