Part 2Now It's My Turn to Fall

I survived.

They risked their lives, pushing me out of the burning house.

Chloe's long hair, which she'd kept for ten years, was scorched. Her burns were so severe she needed skin grafts.

Jake's left hand was severely injured; he might be permanently disabled.

Everyone paid a heavy price.

When I woke up, Chloe sat by my hospital bed, her expression twisted with something dark.

"Why are you so resilient?"

"You were in that room, burning for five minutes, alone. How are you still alive?"

As she spoke, her voice grew shriller, laced with a terrifying edge.

"Do you just have to cling to us forever, dragging us down, so we have to die for you, don't you?"

I didn't understand what she was saying.

But I could feel her anger, her suppressed rage.

Chloe was upset.

Her hair was singed, and there were a dozen inflamed wounds on her arm.

I sat up and gently touched the top of her head.

Then, like countless times before, I softly patted her back.

My voice was hoarse and grating as I tried to soothe her:

"Don't cry, don't cry. Boo-boos fly away."

I didn't know why I was doing it.

But I remembered, back then, whenever I comforted her like this, she'd feel a little better.

I just wanted her to be happy.

Chloe froze for a moment, then roughly shoved me away.

She wiped away her tears, her voice piercing.

"I don't want an idiot like you touching me!"

"As long as you're around, I'll never get better."

My eyes were blank, I could only pick out words like "idiot" and "touch" from her outburst.

So, I obediently withdrew my hand and moved to the other side of the bed.

In my haste, my head hit the bedside table, and a sharp pain shot through the back of my skull.

I bit back the pain, but my eyes welled up.

"I'll go, I'll go."

"Chloe, don't be mad."

Jake pushed open the door, his right hand still bandaged.

Seeing the scene, he just said impatiently:

"Why are you wasting so much breath on him? He's an idiot, he won't understand."

"We must have really owed him from a past life."

He'd said something similar in the fire.

Yet, he still rushed in desperately, shielding me with his body.

He risked a second explosion to save me.

It was then I slowly realized that my existence, perhaps, was a burden.

Chloe gritted her teeth, her face filled with resentment.

"Are we just going to let him drag us down forever?"

"We're almost thirty! To take care of him, I haven't dared to quit my job, haven't dared to get married. We're stretching every dollar."

"It's been ten years! We've done more than enough for him. Why couldn't he just quietly die in that fire?"

Her voice broke, and she bent down, sobbing.

"We could have just watched him die! Why did we have to save him?"

"Jake, this life, shackled by guilt, it's unbearable."

My heart suddenly lurched.

It felt like someone was tearing at my chest, a sharp pain spreading through me.

If I died, would they be happy?

I thought it, and then I said it:

"Then I'll just die."

The words "die" seemed to stab directly into Chloe's nerves.

She shook her head, then nodded.

Jake pulled her into a hug, his face filled with helpless resignation.

"Why are you saying all this in front of an idiot? He won't understand."

Under his soothing words, Chloe gradually calmed down.

I watched them, leaning on each other, walk out of the hospital room.

Chloe's back looked so frail. She hadn't put on any weight these past years.

But I had gotten quite fat. Jake almost fell when he carried me once.

Maybe I should have died sooner.

I thought this silently.

Then I held my breath.