The ailing boy turned restlessly in his bed. The darkness of the room felt heavy. Thoughts of his past sufferings returned. He had been subjected to so many body scans that he had lost count of them. Thousands of needles had pierced him. Injections—once his childhood fear, had become a routine. His body had grown accustomed to the pain to the point where he no longer reacted.

The doctors said the treatment was to continue for another year. The battle was far from over. But hadn’t he faced enough? Didn’t he walk over a bed of embers? Why did it not end? If God is merciful, then why doesn’t He stop the suffering?

A sudden thought of death danced on the precipice of his mind. He wasn’t afraid of dying. What bothered him were the thoughts about what would happen to his loved ones when he was gone. What would happen to his strong father? Wouldn’t he break?

What about his mother? She would be shattered. He wondered when she would ever stop crying for him. And his sister? Barely grasping the gravity of the situation, would she carry on with her life or wonder where her brother disappeared?

“It would be alright in the end,” he thought. “Everyone forgets. Time heals the toughest of wounds.” But if that were true, why didn’t his wounds heal? It hadn’t been an easy ride. If God sees all, why does he not answer my question?

He was still mulling over his thoughts when a bright light emerged at the foot of his bed. It was none other than God. The little boy stood up, overwhelmed by emotions. The deity was just like how he had imagined—an extremely handsome man, like a movie star. His body was too bright to have any shape. He was smiling the most beautiful smile in the universe.

There were so many things that the lad wanted to say, but nothing came out except tears. A thought that God knew everything anyway reinforced his silence.

“You did well. You have earned yourself a question,” came the reply in a loud, thunderous voice that shook the boy’s insides. It was as if he resonated with Him.

Before the boy could say anything, God continued, “Make sure you ask one. I am here only to answer one question.”

The boy was wary of God’s time. He wanted to ask so many things but since he could only ask just one question, he decided to go with the one query that he had often wondered about.

“Why me?” asked the boy, as his insides welled up.
“Well, it was either you or someone from your family,” replied God in the same thunderous voice, devoid of emotions.

When He said it, the boy realized that the disease could have happened to his father, his mother or even his sister.

“Then I don’t mind the disease,” the boy replied at once without looking at God.
“It was given to someone who was capable of handling it. I think you have handled it well. You continue to,” appreciated God as He evanesced.

The room was dark again. The little boy took a deep breath and relaxed. He could now sleep.