Suicide can be rescheduled for tomorrow

When you every day die more and more from the inside, the will to live self-destructs like wood in a forest fire. After death, a new life is sure to come, at least that's what religious and philosophical teachings or people who believe in reincarnation. But ordinary mortals are convinced that this is a lie. Hwang Hyunjin doesn't believe all this nonsense; why should a man die? So that the universe can give him a different body and character? It doesn't make any sense; it is better for us to live in our bodies as long as possible. And the one who won't live long is Hyunjin. Osteosarcoma has a high survival rate, but multi-organ failure has no chance. So when his mother sends him to the hospital again, a place where Hwang has been more often than aat home, he's not dissatisfied. He hated hospitals. Because of the alcohol-soaked walls and the smell of the cleaners' floor rags. The doctors and their offices even more so. They were like kites huddled around a half-dead body. Jinny used to draw them in his notebook: large birds in medical caps, and sometimes in robes, circling over tombstones. There were many drawings in Hyunjin's notebook, but more of them were notes about past days. Often there were entries along the lines of: "Today I wanted to kill myself a lot more than yesterday." or "Mom's all day been at work. I've been at the hospital. Sucks." The hatred of everything was accumulated for many years. To the beloved dad, who abandoned them as soon as he found out about son's osteosarcoma. His best friend who left Hwang for the same reason. They've been gone a long time. About 6 years ago. To the dear mom who melted into her work, like snow on hot summer asphalt. To hated hospitals. He planned to burn one of them. Alas, hard gray bricks don't burn. To the school where Jinny has the nickname "broken." To a whole world and loneliness. It didn't eat him, just occasionally nibbled at his already inflamed brain, scratched his back at night, its sharp claws, and licked every page of his priceless diary. Hwang Hyunjin is remained an unsolved mystery of the old gremlin of the forest, the guide between magical worlds and planets. He's just an ordinary sickly teenager with no friends or personal life. He's empty, lost and rotting inside. Now the "broken" guy is heading to the bus stop to catch a bus and go to oncology hospital. Why? Even the doctors don't know. Jinny's favorite notebook was in his hand, with extra sheets sticking out of it, delaying the planned but inevitable. He walked at a measured pace, but that didn't save him from the fact that one sheet of paper had slipped out of his personal journal and flown off to an unknown destination. He didn't care about this fact, so he kept walking toward the bus stop, slowing down, for he didn't want to go there. Finally, when the destination appeared because of thick bushes of leaves, he went there and sat down on the bench. The sun was blazing, the grass was getting greener, and the birds were singing as if they were having a great feast of tits or nightingales. The air smelled of new beginnings and sizzling endings. To put it briefly, June is making its presence felt. Opening his notebook, the boy took a pen from his pocket, smelling of blue ink, and began scribbling another note on the new page he had just opened: "Now I'm off to the doctors again. It's going to be a bad day." It was the first part of a new spread about what Jinny didn't like about capped kites and spirit walls. But the beginning already suggested an atmosphere of death or inexorable sadness. Like the whole diary made for grandiose goals and a murderous ending. Immersed in the depths of his consciousness, Hyunjin did not immediately notice the boy that sat silently beside him and with colored felt-tip pens began to draw on.... a page from his diary? The boy looked like a small wood elf without the pointy ears. Or were his ears pointy? On his face were scattered the little seeds of a future flower meadow that bloomed every summer. The T-shirt was white, but it bore the marks of colorful felt-tip pens, markers, pens and paints. There were animals, butterflies, flowers, little fairies, and people admiring all this splendor. Hënjin was among them. But drawn by little hands in beaded rings, on a snow-white cloth in the face of a T-shirt. The shorts could not boast such masterpieces. This fact upset Hwang more than the deteriorating liver along with the puppeteer's loneliness. On the sneakers, however, there were a lot of inscriptions in different languages, made with multicolored pens. The elf did not pay any attention to the fact that the owner of the colored leaf was sitting next to him. There were lambs jumping on green meadows and a multicolored rainbow appeared. On it sat gnomes in hats, and in the sky soared kites, drawn by Jinny himself, but the birds had been tampered with a little. What was that, eyelashes, eye shadow and nail polish? And the hats were no longer red crosses, but pink and purple. With hearts around them. — Are you the owner? — asked the unknown artist sitting next to me. — Yes, — brevity is the sister of talent. That's what Ginny thought, but was it true? — So I've added a little of my own to your world. Do you think it's better? — No, Hyunjin, brevity in your case is another incurable diagnosis. — Glad to hear it, — the boy said and smiled. — I am Felix, who has brought many colorful felt-tip pens into your hump-bird world. — I hate those birds. — And for nothing, the kite is the symbol of the sky. "I'm going up there," — the thought flashed through Hwang's dark head. — You know, I've got a bus to catch, so keep the sheet," Jinny said, walking away from the bus. The boy hoped that the little misunderstanding, in the person of Felix the elf, would stay to wait for his route. But, by happy coincidence or great curse, the boy sat down with Jinny. They rode to Felix's musings on the birds of the sky. Surprisingly, he didn't broach the subject of the written text on the sheet. Hyunjin mentally thanked him for that. At least there was something to be happy about today. When the two boys stopped at the door of the hospital, which was painfully familiar to one and new to the other, Jinny wanted to say goodbye and leave for unnecessary and useless examinations. But he stood, stuck to the ground, and did not breathe. The roots of the trees that stood not so far away from the boys, as if wrapped around Hwang's sneakers and did not allow him to move. What was holding him back? Fear of a new diagnosis? The unknown? No, he'd known everything about himself for a long time, and even more so about this damn hospital. But then what? The feeling. The atmosphere. It was as if there was a protective film of raspberry jam around them — Hyunjin thought of this kind of protection only because of the elf beside him — shielding them from all the problems and gray days. There was an atmosphere torn from everywhere, carefully pieced together from the pages of fairy tales, salad lists, and newspaper spreads. It was reminiscent of the past. A healthy, distant past. Felix, standing next to her, radiated something fake, like purple sunshine or berry soup, but so native and warm. The little elf reminded Hëngin of calm. He had taken him to another world, or changed the present one beyond recognition. The fear of launching air into his body was not unreasonable. He didn't want to dispel the sensation that appeared inside. Not butterflies, not fluttering, but a burning warmth and a pleasant calm. He didn't want the phantom smell of pancakes in the morning, new books and toothpaste in the morning to go away. To have those pleasant memories replaced by the stench of syringes and pills. If Felix left, all the memories and visions would go with him. He didn't want to leave the sensations. He didn't want to leave the wood elf with the pointy ears. — They do not help you, so you do not like them? — Lix asked thoughtfully. — If I were you, I wouldn't like them either. — Maybe that's why, — Jinny said quietly, wrapped up in the atmosphere of his past life like a blanket. — Do you want me to fix you up? Hyunjin was brought back to the ground with a sharp, swift blow to the head. — What? — I'm sure, I know a miracle cure that will get anyone back on their feet. It can even heal broken butterfly wings. — I'm not a butterfly. — Yeah, but I said miracle therapy. — Are you trying to sell me something? Felix's face changed and he turned his entire body toward his new acquaintance. The metal in his backpack jingled, and displeasure molded on his face. — Not to sell, but to give and help. I want to heal you, I really do, — the elf began to say, looking into the boy's eyes. — I am Hyunjin, — Hwang said at last, and turned to the freckled boy. — if you want to take the place of doctors in my life, you're welcome. — It's nice that you trust me more than you trust those who took the Hippocratic Oath. — Oaths are only for people who want to gain trust by forbidden means. Hwang Hyunjin, who until now had looked like a half-dead hospice patient, constantly adjusting a bandage that had fallen off his arm, now glowed. And the boy was beaming with happiness as he thought of where he could do his therapy. In his hands the elf still carried a sheet from his diary and periodically looked into it, as if mentally confirming something from the notes or drawings. Suicidal thoughts need approval now? They walked along unfamiliar sidewalks and yards. Jinny rarely left the house and was many times less likely to walk, much less anywhere further than his own neighborhood. So, viewing the area through the protective prism of raspberry jam, the boy inwardly marveled. Old swings and merry-go-rounds were empty. In such courtyards it was as if life had died out or quietly fell asleep, taking a break from the endless pursuit. The magical atmosphere there was beginning to dissolve, so Felix and Hyunjin left them with quick steps across the street. In an instant, the new doctor stopped and looked around. He found what he was looking for. Leeks took his new acquaintance by the hand and sat him down on the bench. Unzipping a light-colored backpack with an endless number of badges, trinkets, and patches, the freckle-faced boy took out a pink thermos with daisies and two iron mugs. When the glasses were filled with a liquid of yellowish-green color, emitting steam with a pleasant smell of herbs mixed with flowers and cherry bones. After this small ritual, lollipops in bright rustling wrappers with various combinations of flavors were poured onto the wooden bench. — Let's call it: "Leaf Tea Therapy," the ringleader of the tea party said solemnly. — Wow, —was all Hyunjin's delighted expression. It was his first day with a boy he didn't know; a little wordiness doesn't go anywhere on a single bus ride, albeit a magical one. — Thank you, Felix. — You're welcome, cured Jinny. They drank tea in complete silence. No, Felix occasionally interjected some phrases, like whether the tea was good or whether they needed more lollipops, but otherwise there was a dead silence that didn't embarrass anyone. Hwang took greedy gulps of tea. It seemed to him that it was really healing him. At least his soul, if not his organs. The boy popped the lollipops into his mouth one by one, considering how sweet the tea was. He liked the taste of sweets, not the bitterness of pills. The elf sitting next to him was enjoying his treatment of a nonexistent diagnosis, for the existing ones could no longer be cured. The lollipops were dwindling, the tea was getting hotter and more poisonous, but that didn't make it unpalatable. The atmosphere of calm began to crumble at exactly the moment when another boy appeared within a radius of 10 meters. He looked to be no more than 14 years old. He embarrassedly approached Felix and started asking something. Jinny couldn't hear what the stranger was asking, for his mind was filled with fog and confusion. He was frightened, he hadn't expected it, the protective reaction laid down genetically worked well, if Hyunjin hadn't been sitting there with a stranger's mug in his hands, containing boiling water and leaves, and lollipops in his mouth. The protective wall of raspberry jam evaporated. The atmosphere slipped away and was lost. All that remained was a sense of incompleteness and a rotting emptiness. It reeked of the familiar loneliness that crept up behind her with the smile of a Cheshire cat. The tea ran out, the iron container returned to its owner, and the lollipops were tucked back into the darkness of the backpack. — Jinny, I need to leave, — Felix said annoyed. — Okay, the cool tone and brevity again. — Here, this is a reminder for you to visit my world. See you soon! Lix handed Hwan the notebook sheet, waved goodbye, taking the residual warmth with him, and he and the strange boy walked slowly toward the hospital. Only now, when the extra life-extending sheet was in his master's hands, did Hwang notice that the words were underlined: "...Deep scars on the branches of a tree that people leave as a token of loyalty..." And completed the elf's thought: "...They look good if they're really on a tree and not oozing scarlet blood." Hyunjin mentally slapped himself on the bandage on his arm and cried. But it was only mentally; in reality, he just sat there, burning the leaf with a gaze better than any lighter. After a couple of minutes of detailed analysis of the changes in his own scribbles, he noticed a signature in small letters at the bottom: "8am outside the bookstore near the bus stop. Felix." That's what the elf mentally confirmed. The rightness of his own actions, not suicidal thoughts. Jinny noticed that he was alone in the courtyard. Hwang's quick stride had taken him home in the evening, one June day. It was on this chance encounter that the story of the end of the diary and the end of the life of an entire world began...