"Come on, I'll take you to the hospital!"
Just as William was about to lift me, I raised my hand and pushed him away.
I grabbed a rag, wiped the floor, then used the back of my hand to clean the blood from the corner of my mouth. "No need."
Then I walked over to the sink and rinsed the blood from my face.
William's voice trembled slightly. "Please… just let me help you…"
I wiped away the last trace of blood, turned to him, and looked him straight in the eyes. "I don't need anyone's help."
And with that, I stepped out of frame.
…
[In the Next Life — Nov. 15, 2023, 3:21 PM — A Puppy Doesn't Know It's Dying, It Just Knows It Finally Has A Home]
"What do you mean?"
Inside the pet hospital, I stared at the vet in disbelief.
He sighed and shook his head. "Most likely, his owner abandoned him because they knew he wouldn't make it. He's been starving every day, bullied by other strays. He…"
I gave a small smile. "I know. You're about to say he doesn't have much time, right?"
The vet hesitated, then nodded.
It was the same reaction my doctor had given me.
William frowned. "There's really nothing we can do?"
"…Just give him good food, treat him well."
The room fell into silence.
I gently stroked Dante's head. "No wonder the two of us met."
Dante wagged his tail wildly, rubbing up against me, tongue out, his bright black eyes looking straight at me.
William gave a bitter smile. "He thinks you're his owner."
I paused. "Is that… something to be happy about?"
He nodded, patting the dog's head. "A puppy doesn't know it's dying. All it knows is, it has a home now."
I was quiet for a moment.
Then I patted the dog's head. "Your name's Dante."
"Woof!" Dante barked once.
As I held Dante and walked out of the pet hospital, I turned to face the camera. "You were the one who found him and brought him back to me. In return, I'll let you film me."
…
[In the Next Life — Dec. 31, 2023, 9:00 PM — I Hope You Live a Long Life, Part One]
"Where'd you get that?" I looked at the videotape William was holding and frowned.
He gave it a little shake and smiled. "A good documentarian should know their subject."
Then he popped the tape into the camcorder. The screen—an old TV left behind by the previous tenant—lit up.
A girl in a pink dress with long hair leaned toward the camera.
It was me. Back then, there was still hope in my eyes.
"Happy New Year, everyone! Wishing you all a fantastic 2015 filled with peace, happiness, and making all your dreams come true!
"You were really lively back then." William sat beside me, a smile in his eyes as he watched.
I curled up with a pillow on the torn-up couch in the rented apartment, head peeking out from under a blanket. "So you went through all my old Instagram videos?"
"I thought they were interesting. Figured I'd take a look."
I didn't say anything.
On-screen, the younger me sat surrounded by presents, a little crown clipped to my hair.
A familiar voice came through, "Don't rush—let your brother help."
Ben entered the frame and sat cross-legged next to me.
I raised my hand, making a "stop" gesture. "No! I always do things myself!"
The camera cut to him clasping a necklace around my neck. "Happy New Year, little princess."
Click! The sound of a snapshot. The screen froze on my wide, beaming smile.
Then came the sound of laughter—chaotic and loud—as I smeared cake on my brother's nose.
He froze for a second, then smiled. "Stop messing around. Your hair's a mess. Come here, I'll fix it for you."
The video was filled with my laughter, my joy.
And outside the video, I suddenly laughed too.
Wiping the corner of my eye, I let out a shaky sigh. "After our parents died, everyone just assumed I was pitiful."
