Even though this story doesn't get as many subbies/comments as my other works usually do - and I, honestly, don't mind about it -, I still want to thank to those who actually had the detail of subscribing and leaving a small note at the end of the chapter. You might not realise, but your words help me move on and forget those bad times.

Thank you :)

At the beggining of the year, I had been given the news that I would have a little cousin in september. My father's twin brother had married my aunt two years before, and they were going to have their first child.

I was so happy. Maybe, because I wished that then, I would finally have someone to play with.

Sometimes, on those rainy days, I would run outside the fields next to my house and get soaked up in water, then I would hide from my grandparents. When they found me, they scolded me. But my grandmother at the end would give me a hearty smile and brush my hair, and resumed back to her household chores after giving me an afternoon snack.

I also have the faint memory of getting scared when I saw kids my age walking on the streets with their parents. I didn't have any contact with kids my age, so I was afraid of them. Everytime I saw one of them, I would start crying and run back inside home as if I had lost myself in an amusement park.

There was this day I was home alone with my grandfather.

He was working on his mud sculptures that day. He did sculptures for churches on the zone and such. He came from a family where everyone simply is an artist, so it was normal that he would be working on his favourite 'hobby' sometimes.

For some odd reason, that day I was really quiet. I don't remember well, but my grandfather said to me that I looked like I was really sick. I would usually run around without caring about the other people, but that day I just quietly got up from bed, drank a cup of hot milk and sat on the couch, watching cartoons all day.

By the afternoon, my grandfather paused his work in a sculpture for a moment and came to the living room to check on me. I wasn't showing any physical signs of being sick, not even fever.

I asked my grandfather for a juice, I don't remember why, but that's what he told me. So, he just went to the kitchen for the juice.

Then something just went wrong.

When my grandfather came back, I was lying on the ground, uncounscious. 

My grandfather has a driving license, but he never drives. But that day he did.

He couldn't contact my parents due to their busy schedule, so he had to take me to the hospital by himself.

The worst thing doctors feared had just happened.

I was in cardiac arrest.

Their tries to bring me back were inutile... while my grandfather just asked them to save me.

" Please, just save her. She's too young to die. I don't want to spend my birthday without her smiling and saying, 'Grandpa, I love you!' "

That week, many people came home to visit my parents.

From what they've explained to me, my mom didn't speak. The only words she said were "It's all my fault, all my fault" over and over again.

I had entered in a coma on the 13th july, 2001.

My home was lifeless, while I was fighting for my life in the hospital. My grandparents are well known in my zone due to family ties so everyone knew what had happened.

No one wanted to believe that I was in such a state when, just the day before, I had been playing on the park with my dog and my grandfather's sister and brother-in-law, both artisains even though my uncle was a retired soldier.

After two weeks, I finally woke up.

I do remember that day. I remember those nurses smiling at me. One was even praying, thanking God for the miracle he had made. Considering my condition, the doctors had told my parents to give up, because I wasn't coming back. But I woke up, that's something I'm certain of.

I was discharged from the hospital 5 days afterwards, after they ran more tests on me so that they could confirm I was indeed good.

I was so happy when I was discharged. 

It was my birthday. Grandpa, thanks for saving my life.