After Extracting My Bone Marrow, My Mother Regretted It

My birthday arrived in the blink of an eye.

Since Mom came back, I had been looking forward to this day.

The meal Mom cooked for my birthday was supposed to be the best thing in the world.

But in the end, I never got to taste it.

Blake woke up that morning complaining about a stomachache.

Seeing how much pain he was in, I went to the kitchen to make some ginger tea with honey, just like Grandma used to make for me whenever I had a stomachache – it always worked.

But when I brought the tea to Mom, her expression changed instantly.

“Gavin, what are you doing? Don’t you know your brother can’t drink this? Why are you trying to hurt him?”

I honestly didn’t know, but even if I tried to explain, I knew she wouldn’t believe me.

She grabbed the cup and threw it to the floor, and the hot liquid splashed all over my hand.

The skin turned red instantly, and bubbles formed.

The pain brought tears to my eyes, but she didn’t see.

All her focus was on Blake, pale and whining on the bed.

How could she notice me?

“Why is it not you who is sick? Why is it not you who is dying? Why does my Blake have to suffer so much?”

I managed a weak smile.

Mom, your wish is about to come true.

The doctor had strongly suggested I be hospitalized, but I knew without a suitable bone marrow match, my condition was hopeless.

Being hospitalized would only prolong my struggle.

I closed my eyes, feeling despair as I looked at her.

“Mom, do you really want me to die? I’m your child too. Why do you only care about Blake?”

I didn’t know which of my words hit her, but she grabbed a cup of water and threw it in front of me.

“Gavin, with Blake like this, how dare you threaten me! If you want to die, just go ahead!”

After a pause, she continued, “If I’d had a choice back then, and known you’d turn out to be this selfish, I would rather have died than given birth to you.”

Each word was like a knife, stabbing my heart deeply.

I smiled weakly. “Mom, besides wanting my bone marrow, what else do you want? I’d give you anything. Even my life, I’d give you that.”

She looked at me in surprise for a moment.

Perhaps my willingness took her aback, and her tone softened. “What would I want your life for? Donating a bit of marrow doesn’t cost you your life.

“If you’d agreed earlier, this wouldn’t have been necessary. Don’t blame me for it.”

I managed a weak smile.

If there were a mirror nearby, it would reflect a face paler than the wall.

Twenty years ago, on this day, Mom gave me life.

On today’s birthday, she wished for my death.

And I truly felt like I was dying.

How ironic it was.