This isn't how it was meant to be.
I came to the city to find success, to find a place where I could live. I arrive having lost my shoes and most of my money, in a city flooded with storms. And now they tell me that unless the cure comes to me, I have less than a week to live?
I'm not ready to die. This was meant to be the beginning of my life, not the end! How could it come to this so quickly?
It's not fair. It's not fair. I'm not ready to die.
At least I've made a friend, if nothing else. It's not fair that he has to suffer, either, but I'll make sure that at the least he does not suffer alone. I can provide that much.
And maybe I will find a way to heal us both. At the very least, I need not give up yet.
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