Someone Else Became the Tragic Protagonist

I stared at the police cruiser in front of me in terror.

“I’m not doing it! That’s a crime.”

The system in my head replied coldly, [If you don’t sabotage your life, you will die.]

I did not believe it at first.

Just half an hour ago, I suddenly heard the system’s voice in my head.

It told me I was the heroine of a tragic story.

After Kris’ first love, Ruby Dynevor, returned to the country, I would be abandoned and kicked out of the house.

What followed would be a series of cruel torments, emotional abuse, physical abuse, my blood being drawn, and my organs taken. In the end, I would be violated by a group of thugs and die a miserable death.

A shudder ran through me. Ruby had come back last month.

This past month, Kris had stopped coming home several nights a week.

His gaze would drift right through me. I found lipstick in his pocket that was not mine.

He would take calls in another room sometimes.

I knew it. Our marriage, which looked intact on the surface, had reached its end.

Today, Kris handed me a divorce agreement.

“Ruby hasn’t been willing to see me these past few days. She said I’m a married man and that she should keep her distance. You know how delicate her health is. What if something happens when she’s alone? Simone, just sign the agreement.”

I scanned the document. There was no mention of any settlement.

All my savings had been spent in the two years I had stayed by Kris’ side as he clawed his way back to success.

Over the past years, he had insisted that it would embarrass him if I worked a job. If I were thrown out like this, I would not even have enough to pay for my next meal.

I was going to talk things out with him, but the system compelled me to just slap him instead.

Everyone said that after clawing his way back from bankruptcy, Kris had become a ruthless force to be reckoned with. It would be a death wish for me to slap him.

After running out of the house, the system ordered me to sabotage myself further. [Smash the car now!]

Terrified that the future it described might come true, I found a loose paving stone and flung it hard at the police car’s side mirror.

Crash!

The mirror cracked and fell to the ground.

An alarm blared. Three police officers came running out from the street corner.

I quickly raised my hands and was ready to admit my guilt.

The officer in charge waved his hand. I was taken back to the police station.

In the interrogation room, a police officer held my blood test report.

“Sober… Mentally sound… Why did you vandalize a police car? Do you understand that’s a crime?”

I repeated, word for word, what the system had told me. “Yes, I know. I did it on purpose. I knew exactly what I was doing.”

A younger female officer across the table looked at me in utter disbelief.

“What’s wrong with you? Did you just get dumped?”

I told her the truth. “No. I’m getting a divorce.”

At the thought of going to jail, tears welled up in my eyes.

The officer cleared her throat. “Full restitution for the damage. A fine of $1,000. Ten days of administrative detention. We’ll notify your family. Don’t do this again.”

I obediently handed them several bank cards, but not a single one worked. Every transaction was declined.

Kris must be trying to teach me a lesson.

The police told me to call my family. I dialed the same number ten times, but no one picked up.

When I tried again, I found out that I had been blocked.

The female officer used the station’s landline to call Kris. But when she uttered my name, she was interrupted.

Kris’ voice, which had once been gentle, was cold as he said, “Simone? Call me again when she’s dead.”

The officers exchanged looks.

The female officer looked more carefully at my file. Under “Next of Kin,” it simply stated “Orphan.”

Her face stiffened. “Detain her for now.”

Those ten days were not as hard as I had feared.