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.