My Last Breath on the Operating Table, Their Last Goodbye at the Crematorium
The moment I was born, I took her life.
They called me a murderer.
Marcus used to burn me with cigarette butts, and Dad would say it was my fate.
“You’re a curse. If you had any conscience, you’d have gone to join Mom a long time ago to repay what you owe.”
When Marcus was diagnosed with kidney failure, that same cold, distant father knelt in front of me.
“Please… save him…”
I put my hand on Dad’s shoulder.
“Dad, I’ll do the surgery. But can you promise me one thing?”
Dad performed the surgery himself.
It was a success.
He saved the son he loved most and took the life of the daughter he hated.
But after I died, Dad turned himself in to the police, and Marcus lost his mind.
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