The ceramic lucky doll shattered on the floor,
I saw my name and birthday, broken into pieces, just like my life, seemingly beyond repair.
Suddenly, I felt like I might really be dying.
But I don’t want to die yet, I haven’t seen my mom…
I’m afraid she’ll wait forever if she doesn’t see me.
My head felt like it was buzzing, and I slapped Cora, yelling like a madwoman, “That’s my mom’s! I care! I really care!”
Tears fell before I could finish.
I reached for Cora, but Wesley grabbed my wrist, stopping me.
My eyes burned, and I stared at him, crying and then laughing.
I cursed him, “You know I’m dying, and yet you still bully me. Wesley Miller, you’re heartless,”
He wiped my tears and asked, “First cake, now death, Phoebe Johnson, is messing with me fun for you?”
“Don’t cry
ry for me le
me, I won’t care anymore…
Before he finished, a drop of blood fell on his hand.
I was having a nosebleed again, worse than before.
My legs wobbled, pain coursed through me, and I collapsed.
Wesley caught me, shouting, “Call an ambulance!”
He was helpless, watching as my blood stained his white shirt.
I was unconscious but heard Wesley crying, asking repeatedly. “Why won’t the bleeding stop? Please, stop bleeding…”
