For as many years as the boy could remember he had suffered endless pain. Just random sharps stings against all of his nerve endings. His head would sometimes vibrate and his eyes would speckle black and white spots in front of him. Something no doctor could explain. Not really anyway.

His mother had tried for years to ease his pain. Over the counter drugs, prescription, hospitalisation, even by illegal means. But nothing had worked. His nerves were sensitive. The rustling of a single bed sheet could cause pain to shoot through his body. The simple act of smiling could bring on a migraine.

Eventually his entire body began to shut down. He had barely made it to five before he had celebrated his 1000^th hospital visit in the emergency room. That’s not days in care, that’s just random occurrences. The hospital staff had lost count of the number of days the boy had spent there long before his third birthday.

Once he reached school, he developed new forms of allergies. He was allergic to cold – if his body got below 30°C he skin turn purple, swelling up – he was also allergic to a certain amount of sun exposure – his skin turning tomato red in minutes and within an hour he would have trouble breathing. Doctors had seen similar cases to this before; however, it had never been both in the one person, especially one with such sensitive nerves. As one can imagine, his hospital visits became more frequent. Eventually he and his mother had arrived on a first name basis with the staff at all three hospitals and six medical centres in their local area.

Time went on, as it does, measuring life and instructing us as we move. Time was cruel to the boy, the longer it went on the more problems arose. He was smart, always had been, so he knew that he was not normal. He knew that his allergies weren’t common, his nerves were highly sensitive and he knew his brain couldn’t handle too much at once.

His mother had pulled him out of school at the age of eight, hoping that keeping him in the dark, away from the cold, away from the sun, away from certain foods, away from anything that could possibly hurt him.

But nothing helped. Nothing could fix him. The doctors were clueless and his mother helpless.

On his tenth birthday, over the pain, over the stress the boy asked for something that no one thought he comprehended.

He asked to end the pain.

He asked for freedom.

He asked for the possibility of death.

His mother drove all the way to Seoul in hopes that his wish could be fulfilled. In hopes that doctors could understand how desperate they were.

Two days after his arriving the young boy woke up, for once with no pain, no waking up to the sound of his own screams. He just simply, woke up.

It was a first for him.