The Walking Blood Bank Bites Back

Summary

I was a walking blood bank.

Because of my incredibly rare blood type, my grandparents went to an orphanage and adopted a "blood bag" just for me.

The "blood bag" was two years older than me. I treated her like my own flesh-and-blood sister. I took meticulous care of my own body because I never wanted her to have to shed a single drop of blood for me.

Later, I was in a severe car accident and desperately needed a transfusion. She purposely swapped the blood bags, giving me the wrong blood type. I developed a severe hemolytic reaction and died.