The fried chicken fell to the floor with a “plop“.
I was in so much pain I kept convulsing. Crying, I begged Dr. Sean:
“Save me, I don’t want to die yet.”
Then I lost consciousness.
I had a dream.
I dreamed about when I was in high school.
Back then, I would go eat McDonald’s every Sunday.
One day it was raining heavily, so I didn’t go.
When Dad came home, he rubbed my cheek.
“My little princess, why didn’t you go eat McDonald’s today? Do you want
Daddy to go buy some for you?”
“It’s okay, it’s raining hard today. I’ll just go next week,” I replied.
But Dad still went out secretly to buy it, because he wanted to make me happy.
On the way back be get
A POR DAdident
Tue, Nov 5
♡ A
On the way back, he got into a car accident.
When I arrived at the scene, there was still McDonald’s in the passenger
seat.
While Dad was lying in a pool of blood.
At that moment, I felt like the sky had fallen.
At the hospital, Dad passed away after failed attempts to save him.
Mom rushed over and slapped me hard across the face.
“It’s all your fault! You insisted on eating McDonald’s. You killed your
father!”
My brother stood to the side, not even wanting to look at me.
From then on, I was labeled as bad luck.
My mom and brother, who used to love me, began to hate me intensely.
I couldn’t eat McDonald’s anymore either.
Because every time I saw McDonald’s, I would be reminded of Dad lying in that pool of blood.
When I woke up again, I was back in the hospital room.
My brother was standing over me, looking down with a tense expression.
“What’s really wrong with you?” he asked.
84%
“Do you really have stomach cancer?”
I glanced at Dr. Sean beside me, silently asking him to explain.
I had told him before that I didn’t want them to know about my illness.
“She’s fine, it’s just a stomach ulcer,” Dr. Sean said.
My brother let out a sigh of relief, then said harshly: “I knew you wouldn’t be sick. You’ve always been so healthy.”
I used to be very healthy indeed, but because my family wouldn’t give me money, I had to earn it myself.
Then, after doing food vlogs for so long, I developed stomach cancer.
Thinking of this, I remembered I hadn’t logged into my streaming platform in a long time.
I quickly picked up my phone to check and saw 99+ notifications.
Everyone was cursing at me, calling me a disgusting woman.
Saying I would do anything for money
Some people even made voodoo dolls of me, cursing me to die soon.
My face turned pale.
My brother snatched my phone away, then laughed: “Good, you deserve to be cursed. People like you should be scolded.”
“What kind of person are you?” he shouted.
“This is your own sister.”
“Mind your own business. This is a family matter. And don’t forget, you’re just an intern. You have no right to speak to me like that,” my brother retorted.
He tossed the phone back to me and left.
“Dr. Sean, how long have you been an intern?” I asked, looking at him.
“Less than six months,” he answered softly.
“Have any of your patients died yet?”
He froze, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the medical chart.
“No.”
“That’s good. I’ll be your first patient to die,” I said with a smile.
Looking at the sunlight outside the window, I let out a sigh.
“I really hope it’s a nice day like this, when I die.”
Dr. Sean stood beside me, not saying a word.
In the days that followed, I underwent chemotherapy.
Because chemo causes hair loss, Dr. Sean suggested I shave it all off.
♡ fo
My brother would always tug on my braid to tease me.
Lucas also loved my hair, always saying: “My Ruby looks the most beautiful with long hair.”
I couldn’t help but cry.
I didn’t cry when I coughed up blood, when my stomach hurt, or when I was diagnosed with cancer.
But now I cried.
Because shaving my head meant I would become ugly.
“Dr. Sean, can you do it for me?” I asked, looking up at him.
I noticed his eyes were red too.
“Okay,” he said.
Then he started shaving my head.
Throughout the process, his hands kept shaking.
I grabbed his hand.
“It’s a big taboo to empathize too much with patients, Dr. Sean. Don’t feel sorry for me. I’m just a bitch who deserves to die.”
“No,” he said firmly.
“You’re not a bitch. You’re the best Piggy.
