Hope Mired in Regret

My rented room was two floors underground.

The place had the smell of mold all year and only had one window barely big enough to be worthy of the name. I had to stand on my tiptoes to see the concrete ground outside.

I looked at myself in the mirror. My face was deathly pale.

I felt a warm trickle under my nose. I was bleeding again.

I tilted my head back expertly and grabbed some tissues to shove tightly into my nostrils.

This was my fourth nosebleed of the day.

According to the doctor, the prognosis for acute promyelocytic leukemia was very good if it was treated intensively. However, it took a lot of money.

Like, a LOT of money.

But my older sister, Rachelle, also needed money for her uremia. A new kidney would cost 500 thousand dollars, and there were still the fees for the treatments to make sure she did not reject the new organ.

The family had long ago been bled dry.

Our old home had been sold. Dad worked hard labor in construction, while Jonah Anders, my fiance, worked three jobs a day.

If I got treatment, Rachelle would die.

If I did not get treatment, I could leave my kidneys to Rachelle. She would be able to save on the cost of getting a new kidney.

I had done the calculations on this very carefully.

My phone vibrated violently in my pocket.

When I checked it, I found a text from Jonah.

[Ryleigh, where have you disappeared to? Rachelle’s just passed out from pain! What kind of a sister are you? It’s just one kidney. You won’t die! Come home. We won’t make you donate immediately, but at least go to the hospital to check if you’re a match. Please? I’m begging you!]

After I read the text, I laughed. The blood from my nosebleed went down my throat, and the taste of it made me gag.

Go to the hospital to check if we were a match?

The moment the hospital took my blood, the unusual markers in it would expose me and my condition.

When the hospital found out, my kidney would be disqualified, and Rachelle’s only path of survival would be cut off.

I had to be selfish.

With trembling hands, I typed out a reply. [There’s no discussion to be had if you can’t pay me. Give me 500 thousand dollars, and I’ll think about it.]

I hit send.

Three seconds later, Jonah called.

I did not answer it. I blocked his number instead.

It was obvious that he was cursing my name, calling me heartless and cruel. He was probably saying that I was a money-minded witch.

But that was alright.

It was better that they hated me. Hatred was better than guilt.

I curled up in my narrow and slightly damp single bed. The taste of blood on my tongue still made me nauseated.

But I did not dare to puke.

If I started throwing up, I knew I would not be able to stop.

I needed to protect the kidney I would leave for Rachelle. To do so, I had to ensure that the rest of my organs kept functioning.

I took the cheap bottle of vitamin B pills from my bedside table. Pouring out a big handful, I threw them all back into my mouth and swallowed them dry.

It did not matter that these pills did nothing to help my leukemia. At the very least, it gave me some comfort.