Replying...
Intro. The sound of sparse breathing, like a feather blowing through the air, was loud in a quiet room. A fourteen-year-old boy lies still on a clean white bed. Both eyes were completely closed, but they turned their faces to the window aimlessly every morning. Although he could not see the morning sun or the sky changing color each day, he knew... the breath of the outside world blowing through the window curtains. A gentle cool breeze caresses his cheeks every morning. It's not just the wind—it's freedom. For boys whose bodies are decaying and their eyes are completely closed to the darkness. That wind is the only thing that still reminds him that the world still exists, and that he is still a part of it. Even though it is almost out of the air...

The sick child who has only a short time left

@เจ้านิล