My Family Fell Apart After I Died Serving as My Sister's Blood Bank

I watched as the blood slowly flowed from my body through the IV tube, drop by drop. My lips turned pale, and the veins on my wrist stood out clearly, thin and fragile.

I had long lost count of how many times I’d donated blood for Beatrice Fall.

My doctor, Shawn Tucker told me that my body, weakened by malnutrition, was no longer fit for donating blood.

He gave me a stern warning, "Alice, if you keep this up, you’re going to die. You need to stop thinking only about your sister. What about the people who care about you?"

I smiled fearlessly. “But those people only care about her. As long as she’s alive, they might spare me a little affection.”

Shawn’s voice was resolute. “If you come back to donate again, I won’t be part of it.”

Beatrice had a rare blood disorder, and to make matters worse, she had RH-negative blood—a rare type that's hard to match. Every so often, she needed a transfusion.

I was the only one in the family who could donate for her.

Since the day I was born, I had been burdened with the responsibility of being her personal blood bank.

As I watched my blood flow into her, the color slowly returned to her pale face.

When I stepped outside, the harsh sunlight made my head spin, nearly knocking me off balance. Waiting for me were my boyfriend’s anxious expression and my parents' serious faces.

"Alice, you need to donate again tomorrow."

Still dizzy from before, I froze, hesitating before pleading with them.

“Mom, Dad, can I rest for a month? The doctor says I’m malnourished and can’t donate right now.”

My father rejected me without a second thought.

“No, Beatrice’s condition is serious. We can’t afford to wait.”

Even my boyfriend, Ronald Williams, couldn’t help but try to persuade me.

“Yeah, Alice, Beatrice is your sister. If you don’t save her, who will?”

I sighed, lowering my head and saying nothing.

Since childhood, they’d always used the same excuse to force me into living in my sister’s shadow.

This time, I didn’t want to agree.

But when I got home, my parents locked me in my room, taking away all my electronics and refusing to give me any food.

No matter how hard I pounded on the door, it was useless.

My mother snorted coldly, "You stay put in this room until tomorrow. You're going to the hospital with Beatrice!"

Beatrice stood by the doorframe, her eyes brimming with tears, pleading with me.

"Alice, please, I’m begging you. Just help me one more time tomorrow. I really can’t do this without you."

I kept banging on the door, demanding to know what was really going on, but they all mumbled vague excuses, avoiding the truth.

After countless sleepless nights delivering food and constantly donating blood, my body was severely malnourished. And now, I hadn’t eaten all day.

They knew I couldn’t hold out much longer. By noon the next day, I collapsed from low blood sugar and was taken to the hospital.

In my dazed state, I heard hurried footsteps approaching.

"Where is Beatrice’s family?"

My parents were nowhere to be found, but I heard Ronald’s voice instead.

"I’m here. I’m her fiancé."

"The patient is about to undergo an abortion. Have you secured a blood donor yet?"

A buzzing sound filled my head.

That was when I finally understood—my sister was carrying my boyfriend’s child.

My lashes fluttered as I opened my eyes, and the first thing I saw was Ronald’s anxious face.

"Alice, I know I’ve wronged you, but it’s too late now."

"Beatrice’s health is too poor for her to continue with the pregnancy. She needs a blood transfusion for the procedure, and I’m begging you to help save her."

I stared at him in utter shock, the weight of his betrayal crashing down on me. He stood there, shamelessly calm.

"You two—one is my boyfriend, the other is my sister... You knew her body couldn’t handle a pregnancy, and you still let her get pregnant?"

My voice trembled, but Ronald held my hand firmly.

"It was a mistake. I’m sorry, I truly am. But if Beatrice doesn’t end the pregnancy, her life will be at risk too."

He clenched his jaw as if making some kind of firm decision.

"I promise you, once Beatrice is better, I’ll marry you."

I looked at him with utter despair.

"Ronald, I’m going to die."

He snapped impatiently, "It’s just a bit of blood, is it worth all this drama? You’re only losing some blood, but you could save Beatrice’s life! Besides, you only got together with me because you wanted to climb the social ladder. I’ve already promised to marry you, so why act all high and mighty now?"

A terrible feeling swept over me, and I started to struggle frantically, but he pinned me down onto the hospital bed.

Through the doorway, I caught a glimpse of my parents rushing around, arranging the surgery and talking to the doctors.

Cold tears streaked down my face. I wanted to call the police, but my phone had already been taken away.

That was when I finally understood—this had all been planned. There was no escaping this.

"Ronald," I whispered, "before I go into the operating room, I want the truth."