Dead But Not Done

Over the next few days, Roger put on the same performance every time my parents were around, standing beside my bed and pretending to apologize to me.

They looked at him with sympathy, convinced he was a good person.

The way they looked at me, however, remained as cold and disgusted as ever.

Today, just as Roger was about to start another apology, he suddenly pretended to faint. My parents and Casey panicked and immediately called for a doctor before rushing out after him.

I finally let out a breath of relief.

At least no one was standing in front of me pretending anymore.

Not long after, my parents returned with Roger. He sat dramatically in a wheelchair.

My parents and Casey looked deathly pale.

My mother spoke first, choking back sobs.

"Roger… has been diagnosed with severe heart disease. Heart failure. He needs a transplant as soon as possible. Otherwise…"

Roger weakly shook his head as tears slid down his face.

"Dad… Mom… don't be sad. If there's a next life, I hope I can be your real son…"

My mother burst into tears.

"Don't say nonsense like that! There has to be another way!"

Casey's eyes reddened as well as she tightly held Roger's hand.

A doctor entered the room shortly afterward, his tone grave.

"The compatibility results are back. Roger has a rare blood type, and there's currently no suitable donor in the heart bank. As for an artificial heart, he has a severe history of rejection and allergic reactions, so the risk is extremely high."

As he spoke, the doctor's gaze drifted toward me on the hospital bed.

The room fell into dead silence.

In the end, everyone's eyes landed on me.

My mother's lips trembled before she finally spoke.

"Bobby… you…"

My father turned his face away, unable to look at me.

Casey's voice sounded strained.

"The doctor said your body is compatible with an artificial heart… Although there are risks, the rejection rate would still be lower than Roger undergoing a direct transplant…"

Roger suddenly began coughing violently, sounding weak and breathless.

"N-No… we can't use Bobby's heart… I'd rather die…"

My mother looked at me with pleading agony in her eyes.

"Bobby… Mom knows this is unfair, but… could you… give your heart to your brother first? Mom is begging you…

"You're still young. Even with an artificial heart, you might survive. But Roger doesn't have time left…"

My gaze swept calmly across every face in the room.

"Okay. I'll give it to him."

Everyone froze. They had imagined my anger, my breakdown, my resistance…

But none of them had expected such immediate obedience.

Casey's pupils contracted sharply, her fingers trembling slightly.

My mother even forgot to cry, staring at me blankly.

Casey's voice tightened.

"Do you understand how dangerous the surgery is? Even an artificial heart could still…"

I interrupted her.

"I know."

Before entering the operating room, Roger leaned close and whispered in a voice only I could hear, "Bobby, you lost. But don't worry. After you die, I'll take very good 'care' of Casey, Mom and Dad for you."

I closed my eyes and said nothing.

The moment they removed my heart in the operating room, my life finally came to an end as well.

"Beep—beep—beep—"

A sharp series of alarms suddenly rang out. The surgery on my side had failed.

At the same time, on the other side of the hospital, my parents and wife were overwhelmed with joy after learning that Roger's heart was actually fine.

The earlier diagnosis had been caused by faulty equipment and a mistaken examination.

Only when the doctors wheeled me out of the operating room did they finally remember that I existed.

A gust of wind lifted the white sheet covering my body. My lifeless face was exposed beneath the harsh lights. And the bloody gash carved into the left side of my chest appeared before their eyes in horrifying clarity.

Only then did they finally remember that I even existed.