Stealing My Life to Keep My Sister Alive

I'd been trembling by the door for two hours.

Blisters kept bursting and reforming on my skin, sticking to my clothes. Every breath tugged at my wounds, making the pain unbearable.

Mom and Dad finally returned.

Luna was wrapped from head to toe. Dad carefully laid her on the bed.

Mom walked straight toward me. "Are you happy now?"

She slapped me hard across the face, making my cheek sting with pain. "The doctor said Luna's condition has deteriorated. She might not even make it to 16!"

My ears rang, and my cheek swelled instantly.

I stood there in a daze. I wanted to tell Mom that Luna would be fine. She would live because I had transferred my lifespan to her.

But before I could speak, Luna suddenly sat up, grabbed the family portrait, and tore the part with her out of it.

"Are you happy now?" she rasped. Tears streamed down her face, mixing with the medicated ointment on it. "Well! Once I'm dead, you'll be Mom and Dad's only daughter! They'll give all their attention to you!"

"No, Luna. That's not it…"

I reached out to hand her the wristband. "Luna, please put it back on. I'm sorry. I won't complain about the pain anymore—"

"Get away from me!" She grabbed the torn pieces of the photograph and threw them at me. "I hate you! I hate all of you! Why did I have to get this disease? Why me?"

Mom hugged her tightly, her voice choked with tears. "It's okay. I'm here. I won't let anything happen to you…"

Dad took the wristband and rubbed his forehead wearily.

"Stella, go stay at Mrs. Wilson's place next door for a while. Luna is emotionally unstable. You need to get out of here for now."

His tone left no room for discussion.

I knocked on Mrs. Wilson's door as I always did. I had lost count of how many times this had happened.

The first time, Mom and Dad learned that a specialist was visiting Balton, so they rushed Luna there that very night.

After school, I waited at the door until dark and developed a fever of 104 degrees Fahrenheit from the cold. At last, Mrs. Wilson found me and saved my life.

Another time, there was a parent-teacher meeting at my preschool. I was just about to say, "Mom, Dad, you don't have to come. I can manage on my own."

But Luna suddenly burst into tears. "Are you rubbing it in my face because I can't go to school?"

Just like those times, I ended up knocking on Mrs. Wilson's door again.

Mrs. Wilson opened the door and sighed when she saw me.

She pulled me inside and instructed, "Max! Get the first-aid kit!"

Her son, Max Wilson, rushed out from his room. His eyes widened in shock when he saw me. "Stella, what happened? Did they kick you out again?"

He clenched his fists. "How can your parents do this? They only care about your sister! They're so unfair to you!"

"That's not true!" I immediately defended my parents. "Luna is sick. We all have to take care of her. Besides…"

I rolled up my dirty sleeve, revealing both old and new festering wounds. "Look. Luna's wounds were transferred to me. Mom treated them herself. She isn't biased at all! As long as Luna is happy, I don't mind bearing a little pain."

Max saw the wounds on my arms and just shook his head.

Mrs. Wilson walked over with the first-aid kit. Her hands were large and warm, just like Mom's, but somehow different.

Mom's hands were warm too, but she always seemed to be in a hurry.