On the way, we passed by a department store, and I saw a yellow princess dress in the window display, similar to the one in sis's photo.
I unconsciously took mom's hand. Holding my breath, I asked, "Mom, I want a princess dress too..." My voice carried a plea that I myself didn't even realize.
Mother's expression darkened further as she squatted down.
Finally, I could see Mother's face clearly. Finally, I didn't think she was too tall.
It was the first time I looked at her directly.
I thought she would seriously tell me, "Wait until Sister gets better, then I'll buy you one."
But, from her lips came icy and fiery words, "Sister is sick, can't you stop being unreasonable!"
I felt suddenly cold and feared her anger.
I lowered my head and said nothing. I didn't know where I felt cold, I just felt really cold, really cold. Like wearing Sister's summer princess dress on the winter day I was born.
I lowered my head, hiding the bitter feeling in my heart.
I shouldn't have pushed for it, right?
I asked myself.
Perhaps mom felt that the damp, crowded environment made her lose control of her emotions. She told me, "We don't have money right now." She hesitated and added, "You can wear sister's dress."
Mother still looked at me directly, she was close to me. But, I felt she was too far away.
Mother was far from sister, but I felt she was so close to sister.
When Mother stood up straight, I, standing close to her, finally realized that near wasn't really near, and far wasn't really far.
I found that I suddenly had no strength, and my small hand, gripping Mother's larger one, slowly let go. I didn't want to let go, but I had to. Because I had no strength.
The bus slowly moved away, and I watched as the department store grew smaller and smaller, the princess dress shrinking into a dot that disappeared at the edge of my vision.
In between, a yellow school bus cut across my line of sight, it was the school bus from my kindergarten, but now it was the former kindergarten.
If it were yesterday, I would have been carrying my backpack and happily sitting on that yellow school bus, right? But now, my backpack contains the nutritious meal mom prepared for sister.
I stroked the strap on my shoulder, looking away, suppressing the strange feeling in my heart, no longer thinking about the yellow school bus or the yellow princess dress.
That strange feeling was like someone pressing on my heart, dragging it down forcefully.
We arrived at the hospital.
This time, my parents said, let's try my bone marrow.
I watched as my dark red blood flowed from my greenish veins, around my arm, into the transparent vial in the doctor's hand. It hurt. But I didn't say anything.
Not long after, the doctor came out to tell my parents that the match was successful.
