When I Died to Apologize: Their Tears of Remorse
Language: en
I have always been my sister Nora's living blood bag. Born to save her fragile life, my arms are a map of needle marks. My parents' apologies and my forced smiles were routine. I believed obedience would someday earn their love. When I won a city drawing competition, Nora tore off her bandages and screamed, "Why couldn't it have been you?" Mom slapped me, shrieking about my cruelty. Dad carried her out without looking back. At the hospital, I heard the doctor say Nora needed a full-body transfusion to live three more months. I looked at the veins in my arms. Nora, if I apologize with my…