My birth was a carefully planned conspiracy.
My parents and relatives hid my brother's existence from me and raised me to be a flower vase and an allogeneic skin donor.
[We have raised you for so many years. What's wrong with giving your brother a skin transplant? We gave you your life!
Later, I was tricked into going to the operating table and died of a massive post-operative infection.
Live a new life.
Looking at my parents who had aged overnight through the bars, I said softly: "Your favorite son committed suicide in the hospital last night after hearing about the good things his parents did."
