Twelve Years of Giving Now I Rest Novel

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Chapter 10

My arm was suddenly yanked back, a searing pain ripping through it as the newly stitched wound tore open.

Blood dripped from my fingers onto the ground.

He kept his head down, his eyes hidden beneath his bangs. After a long silence, he murmured, “Get out, don’t ever let me see you again-

never!”

It was probably the kindest thing he had ever said to me.

struggled to my feet and glanced back at him.

Clutching my bleeding arm, I stumbled through

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the crowd and boarded the train.

I was leaving the city.

It wasn’t my home. Exclusive content © by Nô(v)el/Dr/ama.Org.

My home lay somewhere far away, in any city distant from them.

Throughout the journey, my arm continued to bleed.

But I felt no pain; the thought of the new life ahead filled me with excitement.

I transferred a few times and finally arrived in Salt Lake City.

In this city far from my past, I rented a small room facing south. I decorated it with

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care, choosing warm–toned furniture and a lampshade with a cozy yellow light.

It felt like a true home.

I also adopted a stray cat and named her Daisy.

When I first found her, she was trembling under a bridge, her fur matted and tangled.

I brought her home and gave her a bath.

She often snuggles in my arms, the only warmth I can feel in this world.

One day, I went out to buy cans for Daisy.

As I crossed the crosswalk, a car collided with

1. me.

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Salt Lake City has a low population density, especially in the area where I live, where vehicles and pedestrians are scarce.

I was the only one crossing the street when the car approached. It slowed slightly but still hit

1. me.

I heard the sound of the cans hitting the ground and felt my body slam onto the pavement.

Dazed, I stood up, touched my head, and saw blood on my hand.

I picked up the cat food, planning to return home where Daisy was waiting for her treat.

A few steps later, my vision darkened, and I collapsed.

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In the darkness, a woman’s voice spoke.

“There’s nothing serious, just a concussion.”

I recognized it.

It was Lydia’s biological mother.

“Of course, the driver I hired at a high price is quite skilled,” she continued.

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The following voice was from Lydia’s stepfather.

I never imagined I would end up in their hands.

Something sharp pierced my arm.

“Will this injection kill her?” Lydia’s father’s worried voice asked.

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“Only brain death. Her body will still function.”

“That’s good…”

I was really about to become Lydia’s blood bank.

Overwhelmed with fear, I quickly calmed myself, and then I fell into an endless darkness.

Daisy, I’m so sorry. Mommy can’t come back. What will you do now?