Name: Saving The Victim Of Plastic Surgery
Rating: 5.0 (1 reviews)

Chapter 1

My best friend Melanie had a small chest and became obsessed with breast augmentation. She was then persuaded by salespeople to undergo liposuction. I advised her against it, suggesting she exercise more to lose weight instead. But she wouldn't listen and even told her annoying people that I was jealous of her new appearance. Later, her liposuction failed, leaving her with a disfigured face and a body riddled with infections, making her unrecognizable. When I went to visit her, she accused me of coming to mock her, insisting that I had somehow caused her misfortune. Despite feeling hurt, I didn't blame her and continued to care for her. On the day she was discharged, I went to pick her up, only to be shoved into the bustling traffic, where I was repeatedly run over by cars!

In my second chance at life, Melanie once more asked if I wanted to get cosmetic surgery.

"No, you'll die."

I decided to continue trying to save her.

In the dimly lit, musty rental apartment, a faint musty smell lingered. At that moment, her incredulous expression was particularly clear in the cramped space. I held her slightly damp hand and looked at her disapprovingly.

Melanie's face instantly darkened. "Emely, what do you mean by that? Are you cursing me?"

"After all these years of friendship, the first thing you say is to curse me to death?"

Melanie couldn't help but let out a sarcastic laugh, struggling to free her hand from my grip.

"What's wrong with wanting to be beautiful? Just because you're good-looking doesn't mean I can't be! Don't be so selfish!"

"If cosmetic surgery could kill, then no one would do it!"

"Let go of me, I hate you! I'm so disappointed in you!"

Melanie turned her back on me, throwing a tantrum just like she used to. She thought I would coax her as I did in the past. I sighed inwardly. Looking down at the red marks on my hand, I couldn't help but resent Melanie's ruthlessness. In my previous life, she had pushed me with the same force.

I wasn't a fool, nor was I self-righteous. But I had to save her, if only for the sake of my godmother.

In my previous life, after Melanie fainted from the shock, she was unexpectedly diagnosed with late-stage bladder cancer, with the tumor already metastasized to other organs. The doctor said my godmother had at most a year left. She gave up on herself, spending all her money on Melanie's treatment. At that time, we were afraid that the disfigured Melanie would be further traumatized, so we kept my godmother's illness a secret. But no one expected Melanie to go mad and push me into the street, where I was run over by cars.

I didn't want to see my godmother's helpless and devastated face again before she died.

I pursed my lips and looked at the opaque window.

"The gardenias back home are blooming; we should go pick them."

"If you have the time, you should go back home and pay respects to godmother."

Gardenias were our symbol of making up when we were kids. I looked back at her silhouette and patted Melanie's shoulder. "Come home with me."

Melanie awkwardly moved her shoulder away. "It costs four or five hundred for the trip, and eight hundred for a round trip! Mom said not to waste money; it's better spent on meaningful things."

"Aimee from the beauty salon said the risk is low, and she has a spot now. If I do it during the holidays, I can save thousands of dollars."

"You don't have to worry about your looks, but for someone like me, average-looking and a bit chubby, finding a job is too hard."

I was at a loss for words, a wave of anger rising in my chest, perhaps mixed with the resentment from my previous life. I steadied my shaking hands, resisting the urge to strangle her. "Even if she's dying, you won't go see her?"

"What nonsense are you talking about! First, you curse me to die, and now... why are you crying?"

Melanie pushed my shoulder forcefully, but I couldn't utter a complete sentence. I hid my face, crying out all the pain and hatred from my previous life. Melanie stood there, stunned, not daring to speak harshly to me anymore.

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Saving The Victim Of Plastic Surgery

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