Demon Lord 3

By this time, my parents had already fallen asleep in the hallway outside, thinking about how they had to keep an eye on tomorrow's surgery and not miss a single moment. My sister didn't complain of pain, nor did she dwell on it. She simply sat beside me, sprawled across my bed, and asked if I could braid her hair one more time. Looking at the IV tube in my hand, I lost myself in thought. Is this really the right thing to do? My sister is so thin and small, and she needs blood transfusions and bone marrow donations every day. Last time, I cut a piece of her liver, and it was heartbreaking. My body rejected it, and she vomited for days and lost a lot of blood. Although my sister was also in pain, she still had to give me blood transfusions every day. My parents had no pity on her; she was just morally blackmailing her. This time, my sister told her mother that she didn't want to do this, but she said it was the only thing she could do to save her sister's life. Don't you want your sister to continue braiding your hair? Don't you want your sister to be with you alive? One sentence after another was like a knife piercing my sister's heart. I understand my sister. The needle in her hand can never be pulled out, and she has been taking nutrition supplements all the time. My mother often buys her some things that can help her gain weight, for fear that she will not be allowed to receive blood transfusions after losing weight. The doctor also understands this situation, so he is more concerned about our family in many ways, especially about my sister's weight. In fact, I turned a blind eye to it later because I knew that the situation of our family was not good. I didn't say anything to my parents. My father's attitude was also very indifferent. I don't know if he was indifferent to me or my sister. Maybe he would buy some for my sister. Things, please show some care, but I also understand that it is also to make my sister cooperate well. My family loves me, and I love my sister too, but I can't pull out the needle from my hand, nor can I pull out the needle from my sister's hand. I can't pull out the needle from my hand because I am attached to this world. I can't pull out the needle from my sister's hand because I can't control whether my sister wants to use this method to save me. I can't control my parents either, because it was my parents who gave birth to my sister, and let my sister save me like this. If I do this, all the efforts of my parents for so many years will be wasted. My parents just want me to live well. Is there anything wrong with that?我会一直在的 ​​English: If I were the younger sister, I could refute my parents, asking why they were so selfish. I am also their child, so why should they only save my sister and not take my own life seriously? But I am not the younger sister, I am myself, I cannot give up my life, nor can I blame my parents. After all, everything my parents did was for me, but every pain is also in my body. Even if they saved my life temporarily, every needle was also in my body, and every knife wound was on my body. Every pain is unforgettable, but no one can help me bear it. Although my parents saved me and let me live, isn't this also selfish? They let my sister prolong my life, let my sister's body maintain my body, and absorb my sister's health to save me. This is also selfish for me, so selfish that I can't breathe. In fact, this matter was caused by my parents' selfishness. The key is that this matter will only make me feel more guilty. My sister slowly fell asleep, maybe because she was too sleepy, or maybe because the infusion took effect and the operation was about to begin. My sister didn't continue talking, but just held my hand and slowly closed her eyes. My mother came in to check on me, but seeing my sister sprawled out, she wanted to carry her to bed and let her rest. I told her to stop moving, saying if I did, she'd wake up, and she'd be upset and in poor health. She thought it made sense, so she stopped moving. But I was consumed by self-criticism: Was there something wrong with living in this world? What if I were that person? Seeing we were both asleep, my mother left, too. But I wasn't truly asleep. I slowly opened my eyes and turned off all the machines. Perhaps that would put it all to rest. Yes, that page was silent, and it just disappeared. When I woke again, I was back where the True God was. He applauded me, saying I'd finally succeeded. This time, in this illusion, I wasn't seeking life, but death. Previously, I'd desperately tried to survive, but this time, perhaps I wasn't heading towards the light.