Born As Kidney Donor For My Sister

This was my third year in Melbourne.

I looked at the letter in my hand, with no interest in even opening it.

It was the sixth letter from Norton. Since his release from prison six months ago, he had been sending me one every month.

He had been diagnosed with schizophrenia, but it was only manageable with medication.

It was almost ironic that the cause of his illness was me–his conflicting emotions of disgust and affection tore at his nerves, subjecting him to daily extremes of emotion.

Norton recalled the video he had seen, disgusted by what he saw, yet he also felt sorrow for me and regretted not protecting me better.

What a wretched creature.

I tossed the letter into the trash can without a second thought.

Claire happened to see this as she came down the stairs.

She hurried over in her slippers, exclaiming, “Is that another letter from the psychopath?”

I hesitated for a moment before nodding.

Her eyes filled with tears instantly.

“Doreen, you’ve changed. You’re keeping his letters from me now?”

Before I could respond, she threw herself into my arms, her soft, short hair brushing against my neck.

“I need a hug to make it better.”

I smiled faintly and patted her back gently.

“You’re so troublesome.” I chuckled helplessly.

She insisted, “That’s right! I’m troublesome!”

Claire was the daughter of a psychologist I had met in Melbourne.

When I first saw her, she had short hair and a slightly boyish appearance.

She chewed gum, staring at me for a moment as the gum bubble popped, sticking to the corner of her mouth.Ccontent © exclusive by Nô/vel(D)ra/ma.Org.

But she didn’t seem to care, simply gazing at me with a smile.

“You’re so beautiful.”

Later, Claire became one of the few friends I had in Melbourne.

She seemed carefree and indifferent on the surface, but once we were home, she would cling to my arm, chattering away with endless energy.

In many ways, Claire added a sense of vibrancy to my life, breaking the monotony and bringing color back into my days.

But this didn’t mean I was obsessed with the life here or had forgotten everything back in the country.

A year of psychological counseling had helped me gain a new perspective. I hadn’t let

go of the past, but I had stopped imprisoning myself within it.

When I found out that Regina had recently been spotted at Norton’s house, I booked a flight back to the country.

The only thing I hadn’t anticipated was that Claire was insisting on coming back to the country with me.

She glared at me, fuming. “So you’re planning to sneak back to the country without telling me, huh? You’re in trouble now. For the next three days, I won’t treat you like my sister.”

“Once I’m back in the country, I’ll have a whole bunch of sisters. By then, you’ll regret it, and I won’t make it easy for you to make amends! You’ll have to chase me to the ends of the earth to get my forgiveness!”

Soon enough, I learned from her father that she indeed had a large number of sisters–seven cousins, and one older sister.

Though Claire was threatening to hold a grudge, she started chattering excitedly as soon as I agreed to let her stay at my place back in the country, as if she had never been angry at all.