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Writing my biography through the ages

Chapter 1: I Wanted to Die in Silence, but I Ended up Becoming a Hero

The wind howled fiercely.

It rained heavily that night.

Thick, slanted raindrops struck the window, and the splashes blurred the figure of the person inside a room leaning against the glass.

This man wore a dark gray coat. He had a slim build, slightly curly hair, regular features, but a gaunt face. He had dark, heavy circles under his eyes, and his bloodshot eyes gave him the appearance of a dead man.

He stared intently at the electronic clock in front of him and counted down the numbers.

"135, 134, 133..."

This could be the end of his life.

There was no need to know his name since he was someone who would soon die and be forgotten.

...

Life is too short to dwell on others, but you should always do what feels right within yourself.

It doesn’t matter if you’re a good person or just someone pursuing what they like in the moment they’re living; both types of people are driven by one special thing—impulses.

A good person acts without thinking twice before dying, while someone who seeks only pleasure lives with the constant thought that their end could come at any moment.

I was a young man everyone pitied; unfortunately for me, cancer was my sentence.

It all started when I was just seven years old. The first time they told me I had cancer, it didn’t hit me hard—I didn’t fully understand the gravity of the disease I had inherited. My parents were devastated, of course, but I just wanted to play again and to live my life like any other kid. I spent months going through treatments, chemotherapy, and hospital visits, and they kept telling me to be strong and that everything would be fine. And I was brave, at least at first, to keep my parents from crying. I beat cancer.

The relief for my family was immense. I returned to school, to afternoons in the park, to laughing with my friends. But it didn’t last long. At twelve, the cancer came back. This time I was more aware that I could die, and that started to terrify me. I knew something was wrong when the pain became more constant and more intense. Once again, the same routine: doctors, treatments, uncertainty about what would happen to me. And again, I overcame it. By then, they called me "the young warrior," and I clung to that title, not just to make money by telling my story to the world. It made me feel invincible, like nothing could defeat me. How many people could say they had beaten cancer twice before turning fifteen?

But life isn’t as simple as I learned later. At eighteen, cancer struck for the third time. I was in the prime of adolescence, trying to enjoy the freedom of youth, of falling in love just once. And again, the diagnosis hit my life and my parents’ like a bucket of cold water. I thought I couldn’t handle it, that maybe this time I wouldn’t make it. But I did. My parents wouldn’t have to watch their son die. Not without scars, of course, not without pain, but I did it for them.

Years passed, but I always lived with the silent fear that the curse of my life might return. At 26, when I thought everything was fine, a pain in my abdomen sent me back to the hospital.

This time I was a responsible adult who had repaid my parents for everything they once gave me, so they didn’t know about my condition.

At least my beloved parents didn’t find out when the doctors told me that the pain in my stomach was pancreatic cancer. And this time, there was no going back. The cancer had spread. Hearing the words "terminal stage" felt like receiving a slow death sentence.

I had fought so many times and had won.

But this time... This time, I knew there was no possible victory.

What hurts the most isn’t the end itself, but everything I’ll leave behind.

The dreams I won’t fulfill, the people I won’t see grow old. I think about my parents, who have watched me fight since I was a child. I think about the simple things, like the sun on my face, the smell of rain, and the laughter of my friends. I know I don’t have much time left, and though it terrifies me, I’m also tired. Tired of fighting, tired of living with cancer’s shadow always lurking, and worst of all, angry at seeing my parents suffer.

This time, there will be no miracle. There’s no more battle to win. But if life has taught me anything through these struggles, it’s that while you can’t always win, true courage lies in moving forward, in facing fear with dignity. And that’s what I’ll do.

The first thing I did was leave my parents with memories of my smile, videos telling stories and celebrating birthdays of theirs that I didn’t know if they would live to see.

I left them everything I had. I visited them in my best moments, and now that my end was near, I would die on my own terms.

Yes, I don’t like to admit it, but I would die by my own actions before cancer could take me. That, to me, would be defeating cancer again.

"To die by jumping off this bridge..." An ironic smile crossed the lips of the dying man, who had sought out a quiet town so that his death would be less shocking.

I was about to jump; I swear I was about to do it. I was going to do it until I heard growls and a little girl who seemed to be calling for help.

And so it was that, when I saw this situation, a chance to die in a moment when someone needed the help of a brave person, I threw myself into the cold waters without a second thought.

When I say cold waters, I mean that my body feels cold shortly after my last fight, the blood from my wounds spilling from my body uncontrollably. If only I hadn’t saved that girl from the dog’s attack, she might not have seen another sunrise.

I sought death, but I knew that under other circumstances, I would have saved her too. It was something instinctive in me, part of who I normally was. At least that girl will have a life to live under her own rules. As for me, I am slowly being embraced by darkness.

I can’t move, my eyes are closing slowly, and I can tell you that there’s no feeling of death. Just something that drags you into a peaceful darkness without asking permission, ignoring your wishes. But I can say in my own words that death asks you whether you want to go to it or return.

At least in my case, I couldn’t come back, but someone else could. And I knew that only by feeling the desire to live for someone else can you return, at least that’s how I felt.

Dying without doing any of the things I’d always wanted to do isn’t called living. I didn’t even experience my first love...

I just want to sleep now and be remembered as a brave hero for my parents, someone who died doing good, not someone who took their own life as I had planned...

"Dad, Mom, I hope you can be happy again. I want you to overcome my death."

Little did I know that after I died, without expecting it, national news would share my heroic sacrifice...

...

"In a tragic and heroic incident, a man whose identity has yet to be revealed saved the life of a young girl who was being attacked by a dangerous dog on the outskirts of a small town last night. Despite rescuing her, the man died shortly afterward due to the severe injuries sustained during the struggle."

"The incident occurred near a bridge, where the man, who was alone, heard the girl’s desperate cries for help. Without hesitation, he ran to her aid, facing the dog that threatened her. Witnesses reported that the man fought bravely, protecting the child until the animal was driven away. Although he managed to save her, he himself was gravely injured."

"After the attack, the girl was quickly taken to a nearby hospital, where she is recovering from minor injuries. Her parents, shocked but deeply grateful, described the man as a 'guardian angel' who appeared at just the right moment to save their daughter."

"The local community has been moved by this act of heroism."

'We didn’t know him, but he will be remembered as a hero. He gave his life to save a little girl, and that says a lot about his character,' one resident commented.

"Local authorities are already organizing tributes in his honor, highlighting his bravery and sacrifice."

"Though his identity has not yet been revealed, this man will be remembered for his selfless act of heroism, showing that, in the darkest moments, kindness and courage can shine brighter than the sacrifice within anyone listening to us."