Copywriting
"God chose me."
"You want me to die."
The curtains were drawn, and only the small red light on the call button was lit in the ward. The little girl under the white quilt closed her eyes tightly, unable to stop the tears pouring out.
"But God also chose me."
The young man's tone was full of confidence.
"Choose me to save you."
The little girl suddenly opened her eyes wide, and her eyes were red. Small crystal tears hung on her eyelashes, and her eyelids trembled slightly.
In front of him was his vague outline.
What met her gaze was a pair of eyes that seemed to be still bright in the darkness.
"Don't worry, girl."
"Go to sleep, I'm here."
Even though he knew that he had a congenital disease, his heart was still beating in his chest.
Life is fragile, as thin as cicada wings.
And what can the little girl and the restless boy who are getting thinner and thinner do?
(Participation in the "Chosen One" essay competition)