I bet. You know, those cuts that would randomly appear on your fingers, maybe on your forearm. Those bleeding scratch wounds on your knees that seemingly appeared out of nowhere, and you have absolutely no memory of them?

I do too. I do have those wounds. In fact, I believe everyone has, at least once in their lives.

Not to be that person, but, even though I experience that, mine are different.

It started normal, like usual. Some random cuts on my fingers, a bruise on my shin, maybe a small paper-cut like on my finger would appear from time to time. I didn't think much of it. Not until it became frequent.

Those wounds, they would appear once a week, and then every other day, until it becomes every day. During the time I came down with a very bad flu and I couldn't move an inch, I felt an itch on my wrist, and surely enough, there was a cut which had never been there before; fresh blood was still prickling from where my skin separated.

I didn't know what happened. I was in my bed, under my fluffy pillow and panting like a dog. There was no way I came into contact with any sharp object. The cut was clean like it was cut with a very sharp object.

After that, I would have random injuries on my skin. All over my body without any particular source. I would sit still, working away on my office chair and bam, an itch or sharp pain and next thing I knew my knee was bleeding.

Honestly, it was scary at first. I was terrified even. I contemplated going to the doctor but honestly, I don't think they will help. Not to mention the fact that I cannot afford to take some time off of my work, just to spend dollars on a doctor's visit that most likely will turn out to be nothing. So I kept it to myself. I laughed it off when my friends ask me, saying it's my clumsiness.

And I would be alright with it, frankly. I got used to it after a while, even. I have this pokémon bandages with me at all time! It's adorable. But that's not the point. The point is I would bot be concerned if the wounds hadn't started to get worse, and worse.

Last week I felt a sharp pain on my chest. I thought I had a heart attack but then, blood seeped through my shirt. It wasn't a lot at first so I went to the bathroom. Turned out the cut was... more of a slash. Not deep, fortunately, but far too long to my liking. I cleaned the wound as much as I could and went back to work.

Then the injuries started to get... bigger. Deeper. More concerning.

I don't even know what I am going to do. I went to the doctor and I was right, they couldn't find out what is wrong with me. So here I am, talking away. I am not going to lie, sir, I'm not afraid of my doom. it's not like my life's worth much anyway. I'm more scared of the pain.

I know I'm going to die. And soon, too, if my estimation is correct. Don't feel sad for me. I'm not sad.

I just hope it will be painless.