Nothing Left to Owe My Family
Three years after my family committed me to a psychiatric hospital, I finally managed to escape. But my freedom didn't mean much, not when the cancer had already metastasized.
Knowing my days were numbered, I just wanted one decent meal. I used the pocket change I'd scraped together from collecting recycling to buy an ice cream cone—something I had never been allowed to try before.
I stood on the street, happily enjoying it, when a metal chain suddenly whipped across my face.
"Chantal is seriously ill, and you have the nerve to stand here enjoying yourself? I knew you always wanted her dead."
It was my mother, whom I hadn't seen in years. She screamed hysterically, swinging the heavy metal strap of her designer purse and leaving bloody welts across my cheeks.
Losing her mind completely, she grabbed me by the hair and slammed my head against the wall. My brother arrived just in time to watch coldly.
With a sneer, he ordered his bodyguards to pin me down to the pavement.
"Looks like we've been letting you live way too comfortably," he mocked. "Splurging on ice cream while Chantal suffers? Must be nice! But your timing is perfect. She needs a marrow transplant.
"You ruined her life, and this is your only shot at redemption. If you're a match, I'll allow you back into this family. Isn't that what you used to beg us for?"
Tears silently slipped down my face. It was all too late; the cancer cells were already everywhere in my body.
I was going to die very soon.