Nothing I Can Do

Prologue

Death is inevitable. It's unavoidable. No matter how much you try to hide, he'll always be there on your doorstep, waiting patiently for you to hit the floor. Oops, I should probably correct myself; Death is also female. It's not that they're out to get you, they're just doing their job.

What you're about to hear is the story of ten boys, me being the tenth. They were all my friends, one of them my husband, and how they all dropped like flies right before my eyes. I'm ninety-two now, which is surprising, being how this throat cancer spreads more and more as each minute passes, my chances of living slowly dwindling. I don't mind much, I'm ready to meet my friends and love of my life once again. I wish Illness would finally take me. I've been waiting so long.

In this realm, in this time, you'll know how you die. Not all the gruesome details, of course. The muses have to have fun watching us with our heads in our asses, trying hard to keep the door locked and the blinds shut. What would you do if you knew how you would die? Would you be like Kim Hyojong, who was kissed by the heat of Inferno, and hide in fear of the flames that would swallow you whole? Or do you seem more like a Lee Hwitaek, cursed by the worst muse in existence, who let his impending doom slip past his mind like a bad memory? Maybe you're like me, my ear holding whispers from Illness, who didn't let my destiny dictate my life but was still cautious in what I would do? None of these boys' stories are strikingly similar, but it definitely is an amazing example of the domino effect.

Heed my warnings: This journal will strike tears, most likely deeply suppressed in your gut. I've never been to so many funerals, I thought I wouldn't have the stamina to cry. But I still managed to let my saltwater tears stain my cheeks. Many of these deaths were not PG, not even in the slightest. From an alleyway face off to choking on his favorite fast food drive-thru, these aren't heroic feats. There's heartbreak laced throughout my words, remember that. If this makes you the slightest bit uncomfortable, I suggest putting my journal down and listening to some smooth jazz, because it only gets worse after the first one becomes a human marshmallow.

Here's my dying wish: When you turn twenty, your muse visits you, tells you the basics, don't let them ruin your life. Live the way you were, but don't be stupid about it, of course. Need proof? Ask Jung Wooseok.

There's no stopping this. Nothing can be done. Nothing I can do.

-Yan An

P.S. The only reason I can remember most of this story is because Inferno knows it all.