6
LE
I remembered Lily had a low–grade fever and
nosebleeds last week.
Mom, worried, took her to the medical center.
They had a special deal, and Mom, unable to
resist the salesperson’s pitch, got me tested
too.
I hadn’t been feeling well either.
I often felt dizzy and short of breath in class.
During the 800–meter run in middle school, I
collapsed halfway through.
The teacher told Mom to take me to the
^
hospital.
But Mom told the teacher I was faking it.
I’d been pushing myself for years, terrified of
being seriously ill.
When I got the results, I thought my
nightmare had come true, and didn’t even
look at the name on the cover.
Then, I remembered the words on that
crumpled piece of paper.
[Mom, Dad, can you only love me, I wish Lily
would die soon.]
Below it was a list of ways to die. One of
them was leukemia.
Before puberty, Lily and I were close.
Our favorite game was having classmates
guess who was who.
To make it harder, we’d mimic each other’s
expressions, postures, even handwriting.
We were that close.
I could instantly recognize her imitation on
the note; she could guess my wishes
perfectly.
In that moment, I found peace.
She wasn’t my only family.
Even if she was sick, she had money, parents,
and love.
I, with a few
housand dollars and no home,
didn’t deserve to pity her.
I stayed in a cheap motel for two weeks,
finally waiting for my acceptance letter.
I chose a public teacher’s college 300 miles
from home.
Not because I loved teaching, but because it
was free, offered stipends, and guaranteed a
job.
Only this way could I avoid depending on my
parents and get a proper education.
It was my only dream.
I applied for early arrival.
After several buses and an overnight train, I
finally reached the dorm.
When I lay down, I felt every bone in my body
aching.
Suddenly, a ringtone startled me.
It was Mom.
“Carolyn, where are you?”
I held the phone, unsure what to say.
“Did you mix up the reports? What’s your
intention?! Family members are doing bone
marrow matching, if you want to atone, come
to the hospital for a blood test!”
Her words were always barbed.
Anger surged in my chest.
I was tired of it.
“Mrs. Miller, what relation do we have? You
said you don’t have a daughter like me, why
bother me when your family is in trouble?!”
My voice was hoarse and painful.
After a long silence, Mom started crying.
“Lily, Lily’s sick… After just one chemotherapy
session, she lost all her hair. You’re twins, you
share the same blood! How can you be so
cruel, watching your sister die!”
I sniffed, coldly interrupting her:
“Yes, we’re twins! But if I were sick, why
wouldn’t you let Lily save me?”
“Lily and you are different! Bone marrow
donation could kill her, I can’t accept losing
both my daughters!”
Lily screamed in the background:
“Mom, why are you groveling to her? You
forgot, she wants me dead! I have you and
Dad, I don’t need her to save me!”
I hung up.
