Six months. That’s all I have left. So, what am I supposed to do? Lie in bed, counting down the days? No. If I’m going to die, I might as well live first. At first, the diary was just a place to write down my thoughts. But soon, things didn’t add up. My life wasn’t what I thought it was. There were too many secrets—things people weren’t telling me. The more I wrote, the more I started to wonder: what were they hiding? And why does it feel like I’m only just starting to figure things out? The lines between truth and illusion are blurring. I thought I was writing my last chapter—but it seems I have stumbled upon the first page of a much bigger story. One I might not live long enough to finish. Six months... and now I’m starting to see there’s more to my life than I ever imagined. [A new chapter will be published daily, Monday to Friday.]