My Brother Told Me to Die, So I Did as He Wished

When I was fourteen, my parents left me forever.

They died on their way to school to find me, and from that day on, my older brother hated me with all his heart.

When I was rushed to the emergency room, the doctor told me to contact my family and sign the surgical consent form.

My brother, meanwhile, was in tears over his adopted sister’s sprained ankle.

He said impatiently,

“Then go die. Don’t call me your brother!”

Then he hung up.

And so I died on the cold operating table.