Chapter 282 No More Painkillers
Just as she walked in and pushed open the door of the Hughes Manor, Margaret saw the familiar furnishings of the house, everything as usual.
Margaret saw the familiar furnishings of the house, everything as usual.
She vaguely saw Marlon sitting in a wheelchair, holding a pen, quietly writing on the desk.
Nancy brought a plate of fruit, placed it in front of him, and said, "Marlon, if you're tired, take a break. Don't strain your eyes."
Then, Margaret saw Marlon supporting Nancy, struggling to stand up from the wheelchair.
Marlon was overjoyed, his slightly chubby cheeks showing a happy smile.
Looking up, Marlon and Margaret's eyes met.
Margaret felt as if he could see her.
He opened his arms to her, showing a kind and gentle smile, "Margaret, look, I can stand up! I fulfilled your wish before you went on your business trip! Are you happy?"
Margaret's nose tingled, and she nodded, "Happy."
"Then why don't you come over and let me hug you? Where did you go? Today is New Year's Eve, and the food at home is already prepared, all your favorite dishes." Nancy also smiled at Margaret.
The scene was so beautiful, so warm, which gave Margaret an illusion that her parents were not dead, and everything that happened yesterday and today was just a dream.
Margaret sighed, and ran forward, wanting to hug Marlon.
But as soon as she touched Marlon's arm, Marlon disappeared.
She looked around, shouting, "Dad!"
The house was empty, no one was there, only her.
"Margaret, don't be afraid. A fever is a minor illness, I will stay by your side." Margaret heard Marlon's voice again.
She turned her head, seeing Marlon suddenly become young, who watched over her as a child by her bedside.
That was more than ten years ago when she and Marlon went to Ironwood Lane, and she caught a cold after returning, her forehead burning, her whole body hot like fire.
Marlon called the doctor, and gave her injections and medicine.
She insisted on Marlon staying with her because she felt safe with him, she wanted to open her eyes and see him. Nancy said she was being dramatic. But Marlon really stayed with her for several days, without sleep.
Marlon changed her ice packs, and when she woke up, he told her fairy tales.
"Dad, will you always stay with me?" Margaret saw her younger self, with innocent and beautiful eyes, lying in bed, asking Marlon by her bedside.
He thought for a moment, then shook his head, "No. When you grow up, you will get married. By then, how could you remember me?"
"Then I won't get married, just stay with Dad forever."
"But I will die."
"You won't die! Dad, you are a good person, a great person, you won't die!" Little Margaret corrected.
Marlon was amused by her, " Don't worry, even if I die, I will find you a good husband to take my place and stay with you."
Little Margaret felt fear for the first time hearing the word "die."
She couldn't accept a life without Marlon.
She burst into tears, and Marlon couldn't comfort her.
Nancy came over, found out what happened, and blamed Marlon, "You really are something, talking about death with a child. How inappropriate. If I were Margaret, I wouldn't like it either."
"Margaret, be good, Mom and Dad will always be with you, we won't die. Don't cry." Nancy wiped Margaret's tears and changed her words.
Margaret watched her younger self turn from crying to laughing.
Blinking, she watched as everything in front of her disappeared, her younger self, Marlon, and Nancy all gone.
Margaret felt so empty, so bitter, it was hard to breathe.
Suddenly, her body started to hurt, as if countless venomous snakes were biting her.
In excruciating pain, Margaret slowly squatted down, sweat dripping continuously from her forehead.
She lay on the carpet, her facial features distorted by the pain.
Refusing painkillers and any relief, Margaret resigned herself to fate, choosing to die from the pain to reunite with her family.
She used to have hope and fantasies, so she would desperately take medicine, because she wanted to live a few more days.
But now, it was all gone.
"Dad, Mom, take me away. I don't want to live anymore, you don't know, I have cancer. A very serious illness, I have no days left." Margaret bit her lip, tears streaming down her cheeks.
She cried and smiled, thinking her parents' ghosts should still be at home today. So they could hear what she was saying.
"Take me away." She murmured.
This world was too bitter, and she lived too hard.
Now, she only wanted to die. She didn't want to struggle anymore, didn't want to please anyone anymore, it was meaningless.
Spitting out a mouthful of blood, Margaret watched as it splattered on the leg of the coffee table.
The blood soaked into her coat, which was black, making it look even darker, without a trace of blood.
Margaret raised her hand, and wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth. The pain was excruciating.
She thought that she must have done many wrong things in her past life. So fate was playing with her like this.
She was the one who deserved to die the most, but she lived alone until the end.
She thought she would die from the pain, and be taken away by her parents.
Marlon, without Nancy, took Nancy away.
Logically, they loved Margaret the most, she should have been taken away too.
But the pain didn't take her away from the world.
However, without taking painkillers, she endured it.
The pain lasted only five minutes, and then it was gone.
Margaret lay on the cold carpet, laughing in despair.
There was still a taste of blood in her mouth.
Tears also flowed into her mouth, an indescribable feeling of discomfort and suffocation.
It was so ironic that dying was so hard for her. Had she not suffered enough, so it wasn't her turn yet?
Fate was really unfair, her parents were kind all their lives, yet died so quickly.
And she did all kinds of stupid things, yet wasn't dead.
The sound of leather shoes on the stairs echoed in the quiet air, particularly clear and piercing.
Margaret lay on the ground, watching the footsteps gradually disappear.
Wearing a black coat, and black pants, with a stern face, Raymond stood at the entrance of the stairs.
He immediately saw Margaret lying on the ground, and their eyes met.
Raymond frowned, quickly walked over, squatted down, and tried to lift her from the cold carpet, "You hate the cold the most, and you're lying on the ground? Why didn't you turn on the heater? Margaret, you're in your twenties, not a child, can't even take care of yourself?"
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