Skeletons Next to the Trash Bin
My parents, the wealthiest couple in the country, were famous philanthropists. I had to ask them for permission if I wanted to spend more than five bucks. The day I was diagnosed with terminal cancer, I asked them for 100 dollars, but instead of helping, they yelled at me for three hours.
"What kind of disease could you get at your age? If you're going to ask for money, at least come up with a better excuse."
"Do you know that 100 dollars could support children in poverty-stricken areas for a long time? Your sister is more sensible than you."
I dragged my sick body for miles, back to the small basement I called home. But as I passed the mall, I saw my parents, live on a huge screen, spending a fortune to rent out Disneyland for my sister. I couldn't hold back the tears anymore. A hundred dollars wouldn't even cover one round of chemotherapy. I just wanted to buy a new outfit and leave with some dignity.
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