Have you ever remembered something so well as if the memory itself is embedded in your brain, so detailed as if it was haunting you? As if there is something significant, and important that should never be forgotten. I have one; a memory that lasted for nineteen years.  I was five when it happened. Some may say that it is impossible to remember something so detailed especially when you are in such a young age because as we grow our memories can alter, shaped by our own experiences.

The thing is, I remembered dying. I remember feeling tired and my eyes refused to open. I remember the numbness throughout my whole body as I was laying on the hard hospital bed but despite that I was still alive, barely. When I did open my eyes, though not wide, I saw my parents; mom with dread in her eyes and dad with a determined look on his face and, a person I assumed was a new doctor because definitely it wasn’t my usual doctor that I saw discussing with my parents. She looked as if she was assuring my parents to do something. I remember thinking that they’re going to let me go like any good parents would, to stop me from the pain and agony. Instead dad came to me with a smile saying that I was going to be alright. They found a donor for my weak heart he said. After that I remembered being carried out elsewhere, a new hospital I remember mom told. I was already too weak to see everything in detail but I remember staring at the foreign faces and the blinding white light above me. It was like the old T.V show with aliens me and dad used to watch.

“Everything is going to be just fine. I’m going to put you to sleep okay” the new doctor said to me almost in a whisper before she put a foul smelling mask on me.

Right at the moment where I was about to fall out of consciousness, a man wearing surgical mask entered the room carrying a white case in his hands. The next thing I remember is a boy, around my age standing next to the man with the white case.

Ever since I was a kid, I am always the odd one. Being a weak child with a severe heart condition I frequent the hospital more than school. My friends move on to the next grade while I was retained and after that my parents decided for me to take my lessons at home instead. Even after the operation, it took quite a while for me to properly heal. You see, having a new working heart was overwhelming for my body at first. Even after that I decide to be tutored at home and ever since then I have taken national exams privately. Unbelievable as it may be, I am a proud owner of a degree in Performing Arts. My parents find it odd at first. They say I never took interest in performing arts, not even when I was a kid. I enjoyed reading facts and it seemed that I showed more interest in Science. I have never been interested in dancing or singing even. But I find it surprising that I am able to actually sing. No one sings in my family.

I barely go out. I don’t even have anyone to go out with. My parents are too caught up with their work that it feels so rare when I do see them at home. We are not rich and I think they are working themselves to the bone because of the debt they still have because of me. I had a major surgery when I was five years old and they thought my life would have ended then. But a miracle happened. I was saved at the very last moment.

But I remember something so vivid about that moment when I was saved. There was a boy around my age standing next to the man who I know only now carrying my new heart. There was something about him seemed out of place. It wasn’t just the all-white attire he was wearing but it was the way he looked at me. I remember thinking that he must be a patient like me but again his gaze changed my mind. I may be too young to understand everything back then but however hard I try to deny it I know there was something shady about the surgery I had. I didn’t see the boy around after my surgery.

Right now I am trying my best to live my life and my luck. I applied to a local university for my Master’s Degree, which my grandparents offered to pay all the tuition fees just because they understand the condition of our financial problems. Once I didn’t want to accept their offer. For all my years living, for once, I don’t want to feel indebted to anyone anymore. Heck, I didn’t know any details on who my donor was.

“You are an adult now Yuki. You can’t go on hiding forever. Go and see the outside world” Grandma has said to me then. I agreed. But I told them that they should let me stay with them, and to let me work to help with the household expenses. My grandparents agreed. The reason being was my overly protective parents. They still see me as their frail and weak-hearted daughter thus I have never tried working. Even when I wanted to go to the library on my own they would rather cut their morning office hours just to go with me.

Somehow, and God forbids, their actions made me all the more suspicious about my surgery years ago.