After Extracting My Bone Marrow, My Mother Regretted It

That day, Mom brought up the idea of me donating bone marrow to Blake again.

I lowered my gaze, feeling dejected.

Mom had been living with me for nearly a month, but my condition was worsening, and she didn’t seem to notice.

I had tried to be honest with her, but she didn’t believe me.

I vaguely remembered the first weekend after she returned.

She and Blake were getting ready to go out, and she told me to stay home while they handled some errands.

I nodded, not really wanting to go out anyway, as I felt increasingly weak.

It wasn’t until I saw Blake’s post on social media that I realized “errands” meant a spring outing, a picnic.

In the video, they were all enjoying drinks and an array of delicious foods, having a great time.

They spent the whole day out, returning home late at night.

When they got back, Blake sprawled on the couch, complaining, “Mom, I’m so tired. I really feel weaker every day.”

Mom sat beside him, soothingly saying, “Blake, feeling tired is normal. We’ll follow the doctor’s advice and after your bone marrow transplant, you’ll be fine.”

Blake turned to glance at me.

“But can my brother agree to it?”

Mom looked at me too.

“Mom, I’m sick too,” I said. I have leukemia as well.

But Mom had never had much patience with me, and she cut me off before I could finish.

“Sick? Are you talking about that little injury on your hand?”

I glanced at the back of my hand, which was still red, like a birthmark.

It was a burn from a few days ago when I was cooking.

I had been applying ointment, and it had improved a lot.

I wasn’t sure if she had just noticed it now or had seen it back then and simply didn’t care to ask.

“No, that’s not it. I have leukemia too.”

I even pulled out the hospital’s diagnosis report to convince her.

Her eyes widened with surprise, but quickly returned to calm.

She barely glanced at the report before tossing it aside.

With a scoff, she said coldly, “If you didn’t want to help, you could’ve just said so. Why bother making up such an excuse?

“I can’t speak for other things, but you’ve certainly inherited your father’s lying, selfish ways. You’ve got that down to a tee.

“Especially faking being sick – something you were always good at as a kid.

“And now you’ve really outdone yourself, going as far as to fake a hospital report.”

Yes, I had pretended to be sick once before to keep her from leaving when she planned to take Blake away.

She saw right through me then, roughly shoving my hands away as I clung to her legs, sending me tumbling to the ground.

Mom wouldn’t believe me, and I felt powerless to explain.