During the New Year celebrations, my younger brother set off firecrackers and lost both legs.
The doctor said amputation was the only way to save his life.
When my mother heard, she fainted on the spot. My father wrung his hands, at a loss for what to do.
For my brother's safety, I made the decision to have his legs amputated.
In the end, I became the sinner who had ruined his life in their eyes.
My brother's eyes red with rage, he snarled:
“You ruined me! Now I can't live like a normal person!”
My parents wiped away their tears and said:
“It's all your fault. You destroyed our hopes of relying on our son in our old age.”
They ate my food, drank my drinks, and leached off me. They even expected me to pay for a wife for my brother so he could carry on the family line.
When I refused, my brother threatened to jump off the building.
I rushed over to stop him, but he shoved me off the roof.
I heard the hatred in his voice as he said:
“My life is over, so don't think you'll get off easy either!”
When I opened my eyes again, I had somehow returned to the day my brother was injured by the firecrackers.
