What Is The Ending Of The Yellow Wall-Paper Explained?

I was a sketch artist acting for the police. On a secret mission, I was discovered by a murderer. My eyes were gouged out, and my body was dismembered, unceremoniously dumped in a garbage bin. On the brink of death, I called my boyfriend, a criminal investigator. However, he hung up on me because he was busy accompanying his first love to a prenatal checkup. A few days later, he received a painting that was a vital clue to finding the murderer, but he thought I was playing tricks on him. In his anger, he tore that portrait to shreds. After he found out the truth, he spent the whole night searching through the garbage to piece it back together.

A serial killer targeted me. My sister-in-law was assaulted and murdered while trying to save me. Not only did I refuse to call the police, I pushed my father-in-law and mother-in-law down a flight of stairs when they came to help. I even helped the killer destroy the evidence. When my husband learned that his entire family got killed, he broke down in tears. He grabbed me by the collar and demanded, "Why? Why would you do this?" I deliberately waved photographs of his family's gruesome deaths in front of him and burst into laughter. "Why?" I sneered. "Because they deserved it." My parents begged me to cooperate so I wouldn't be sentenced to death. Instead, I publicly severed all ties with them. Meanwhile, the murderer who escaped justice struck again, claiming another victim. As public outrage reached its peak, I was selected for the Memory Extraction Program. Before the sentence was carried out, my husband asked me one final time, "The Memory Extraction System is still a prototype. You could die during the procedure. "Tell us the truth now, and there's still a chance to make things right." I slowly raised my head to look at him. "You're not getting a single word out of me." The crowd instantly erupted. People shouted that a worthless life like mine deserved to die. But when my memories were finally extracted, they were the ones crying and begging someone to save me.

Jo and Jane are a couple who are quite famous among the artist club. He fell in love for the first time to a girl from ordinary circles who in fact was one of the talents who pursued a career in his company. Their love story that is so fragile on two different worlds requires them to separate each other. But it was Jane who suffered alone a lot, obviously Jo's family finally got rid of Jane in secret, Jane's whereabouts disappeared, whether she was alive or dead, Jo didn't know where she was. It made Jo live in deep misery and longing. He has drastically changed into a cruel cold man over the past 4 years. Until the 5th year destiny said otherwise, Jo overhears a woman's voice talking to Steven, his best friend since childhood. That is a familiar voice, exactly the same as the voice of someone he may have longed for. It suddenly made Jo shocked and for a moment was silent at the outer door of the room. Is that Jane? Or only the same voice of other person? Is Jane still alive? If true, why has Jane's whereabouts not been known for the last 5 years? Why didn't she ask for help or call Jo? What really happened?

On the day of the college entrance examination, my boyfriend's childhood friend realizes she has left her admission pass at home. He insists on going back to get it for her, but I try to stop him. In the end, she misses her liberal arts examination. Driven to despair, she jumps to her death. Later, my boyfriend and I are both admitted to Bloomdale University, the best university in the country. We build successful careers and earn seven-figure salaries—our marriage is perfect. However, on the death anniversary of my boyfriend's childhood friend, he stabs me repeatedly, taking my life. "It was your fault she died," he says. "If I had gone back to get Ginger's admission pass, she wouldn't have lost hope and taken her life." When I open my eyes again, I realize I am back on the same day of the examination. My boyfriend's anxious voice rings in my ear. "Amelia, I need to go back to get Ginger's examination admission pass." This time, I smile and say, "Go ahead. Please be careful."

To protect the assistant who had been evading taxes, she deliberately gave false testimony in her role as my superior's wife, putting all the blame on me. I protested endlessly, but the law held me accountable. I was imprisoned for two months. Upon release, my colleagues turned against me, ostracizing me and destroying my promotion chances. Seeing that I neither cried nor caused a scene, my wife assumed that I had finally submitted. She even threatened to make amends with a lavish wedding for me. However, during the wedding vows, the assistant, suddenly overtaken by jealousy, ran to the company rooftop and threatened my wife with suicide to force her to cancel the wedding. My wife, who had always been obedient to him, panicked. She abandoned everyone at the ceremony and spent the entire night comforting her assistant. Afterwards, she calmly explained: "Wilson is young and impulsive. I was just afraid he might get hurt. Besides, you were released from prison so early thanks to him. He helped a lot. By right, he's still your lifesaver. I couldn't just abandon him." I looked at the couple rings she had just put on her finger, let out a faint hum, and said nothing. She believed I accepted her excuse and was pleased, even making an unprecedented promise: once she had calmed the assistant, she would take me on a honeymoon. However, she seemed to have forgotten one thing. She had already signed the divorce papers, and I had filed a lawsuit in court to have the case heard. From that moment on, we were no longer husband and wife. We were only plaintiff and defendant.

I woke up in the middle of the night to find my wife crying and begging me to let her see that young man one last time. "I’ll come right back after seeing him one last time. Please, I’m begging you." In our seven years of marriage, this was only the second time she’d spoken to me in such a pleading, ingratiating tone. The last time was when I caught the kid running out of her office, his clothes in disarray. Afraid I’d make a scene, she grabbed my hand and pleaded, "Honey, I promise I’ll cut him off. Please don’t divorce me. I’ll die without you." So, I gave her another chance. Just as she promised, she devoted herself to our family, becoming the perfect wife everyone admired. Until today. I turned on the bedside lamp, looked into her eyes, and told her seriously, "Go. Don’t leave yourself with any regrets." I had no regrets left. I hoped the same for you.