KOBRA

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From a young age, the name “Cobra” fascinated me, sparking an enduring curiosity that began during a trip to the zoo in elementary school. Among the many exhibits, one creature captured my attention like no other: a majestic king cobra. Its sleek, dark black body contrasted with a faded yellow chest, exuding both beauty and danger. I was captivated. Standing face-to-face with it through the glass, I watched as it hissed, baring sharp fangs while its tongue flickered with lightning speed. Every movement was calculated, its body coiling with tension, seemingly ready to strike—only to ease up and glide back into the shadows of its enclosure. That mesmerizing encounter left an indelible mark on me, so much so that when I joined a soccer team at the age of six, I chose "Cobra" as my nickname. It felt fitting, a nod to both the grace and ferocity I hoped to channel on the field.

But my time with soccer was short-lived. Around the age of seven, my life took an unexpected and harrowing turn. What began as a seemingly minor incident at school—a nosebleed—soon spiraled into something far more serious. The bleeding was relentless, refusing to stop for hours. I remember the fear and confusion as doctors worked to stabilize me before transferring me to another hospital for specialized care. All I wanted was to go home, to return to the simple joys of childhood. Instead, I found myself thrust into a reality I couldn’t comprehend.

Then came the news that changed everything. I can still picture the room, the heavy silence broken by the doctor’s words. My family’s faces crumpled with shock and devastation. Tears fell freely as they tried to process what was happening. Leukemia. The word meant nothing to me then, but the gravity of the moment was undeniable. I cried too, overwhelmed by fear and confusion. Why was this happening? How could something so invisible and abstract suddenly dictate my life?

The first stages of cancer treatment began soon after, plunging me into a world of needles, medications, and sterile hospital rooms. Gone were the carefree days of running on the soccer field, replaced instead by a fight for survival. Despite the challenges, the memory of that king cobra stayed with me. In its resilience and quiet power, I found a strange sense of inspiration. Little did I know, those traits would become vital as I faced the greatest challenge of my young life.