13 years ago.
Rosalin had lived only a handful of years — four, to be precise — yet within that brief span, she had already come to understand a truth about her life…
That it was unbearably cruel and unfair.
Before she could learn to run, she already learned what it meant to be unable to stand, and how to swallow pain in silence.
Her small body refused to obey even the simplest wishes of her heart. To raise her arms was exhausting. To sit upright was an effort. Sometimes, breathing also felt like a struggle. But worst of all, even the gentlest fever could cast a shadow of death over her frail existence.
Life, for her, was something that demanded constant effort simply to maintain.
From afar, she watched other children laugh without worry, chase one another without fear, and tumble freely beneath the sun. They lived with an innocence that assumed tomorrow would come.
But Rosalin could only observe… and endure.
Such was the fate given to a child born with Darberg Syndrome.
