What Happens At The End Of Funeral Songs For Dying Girls?

My mother was once adored and protected by three men. As such, I had three fathers. After her death, I was raised by one of the greatest doctors, the richest man in Theala, and an award-winning actor. For 13 years, I was showered with overwhelming adoration. That was until three years ago—the day they adopted Erin, an orphan girl. From then on, they began to dote on her. When she accused me of stealing her necklace, they tore my room apart in their search, smashing my most cherished music box in the process. They only felt remorse when they saw me sobbing over the shards. As compensation, they bought me every music box they could find. When she claimed I mocked her for being an orphan, they forced me to write a hundred apology letters as punishment. They only massaged my hands in remorse upon seeing them trembling so badly that I could no longer feed myself. When Erin accused me of shredding her gown, they locked me in the dark basement, starving me for three whole days. When I was let out, they were filled with remorse upon realizing how much weight I had lost. Their bloodshot eyes watched over the grand feast they prepared as an apology. All of that lasted until Erin poisoned my cup of water. I kept coughing up blood as my body grew weaker by the day. Daniel only diagnosed me with malnutrition and made me take prescribed supplements. Unbeknownst to him, those supplements only hastened the poison's effects. After I collapsed at school, I went to the hospital for treatment. "You only have three days left to live," the doctor said. Why then… Why did my fathers drown themselves in sorrow and kill Erin after my death?

There are monsters in this world. And they used to be us. Now it's time to euthanize to survive in a hospice where Emily, a woman haunted by her past, only wants to do her job and be the best mother possible. Post-infection Chicago. Christmas. Inside The Hospice, Emily and her fellow nurses do their rounds. Here, men and women live out their final days in comfort, segregated from society, and are then humanely terminated before fate turns them into marrow-craving monsters known as ‘Smilers.’ Outside these imposing walls, rabid protesters swarm with signs, caught up in the heat of their hatred. Emily, a woman haunted by her past, only wants to do her job and be the best mother possible. But in a world where mortality means nothing, where guns are drawn in fear and nobody seems safe anymore – at what cost will this pursuit come? And through it all, the soon to be dead remain silent, ever smiling. Such is their curse. It won't be long before that snow-speckled ground will be salted by blood. ©️ Crystal Lake Publishing

I died on the day I was supposed to marry Ryan Wolfe. When I didn’t show up on time, he angrily married his childhood sweetheart, Lorelei Floyd, instead, and publicly announced, “Alexis Harding cheated before our wedding and called it off herself!” The rumors crushed my mother, and she died from a heart attack right then and there. But Ryan seemed to have forgotten that he, in a fit of rage to defend Lorelei, slashed my arm and locked me in a basement for ten whole days. I begged him and pleaded for mercy, but all I got was his cold reply. “You’ll stay here for a while, so you can fully understand the pain you caused Lorelei. And maybe, just maybe, it’ll rid you of your wicked thoughts.” When he found my corpse, ravaged by maggots, he lost his mind.

The fake daughter married my boyfriend. My mouth was taped and I was being chopped into pieces by her admirer. The entire family took turns to call me. My mother said, "How ungrateful you are. I should not have brought you home back then." Father added, "Don't bother coming back if you do not attend Samantha's wedding." Brother said, "Let me tell you, you shall root in hell if you choose not to attend the wedding." At that moment, I didn't even have the energy to shout for help due to excessive blood loss. Everyone lost their patience, "Speak up! Are you dead or what?" I could only see the calls being disconnected. One thing they did not know, I was really dead.

Everyone thought my sister, Nyssa, was the cursed one, except me. I knew that on my eighteenth birthday, Death would come to claim me for the Underworld. I was the Dark Elf Death had chosen. But to protect my sister, my family chose to sacrifice me. My parents abandoned me, my kin reviled me, and Caelum, the elven prince I had loved for centuries, chose to stand by Nyssa's side. They said I was a harbinger of disaster. They told me to offer Nyssa my blessing. Little did they know, they were pushing Death's true acolyte toward her awakening. When the Night of the Shattered Moon arrived, I finally met my fate. I died in the mortal realm and was reborn as the Underworld's new emissary. And those who once hurt me would come to pray for my forgiveness, trapped in the eternal punishment I had wrought. I was no longer a girl who waited for love.

My daughter was violated and killed, yet her death was ruled a suicide. After seven failed appeals, I kidnapped the chief prosecutor’s daughter. I tied the chief prosecutor’s daughter to an autopsy table and publicly addressed the prosecutor’s office in a live stream. “I performed the autopsy myself. My daughter didn’t kill herself. She was murdered. “I’ll give you seven chances. Release the actual evidence and name the murderer publicly. Each time a chance runs out, I’ll remove one of her body parts.” The chief prosecutor and his wife knelt on the floor. They begged me desperately to spare their daughter. “The evidence proves your daughter took her own life. Stop this madness now and let my daughter go. She’s innocent.” Viewers in the live stream called me insane. They said I had lost my mind with grief and was taking it out on an innocent person. I ignored their contempt. With a sneer, I picked up a scalpel and pressed it against the judge’s daughter’s abdomen. “The clock is ticking. Hurry up and reveal the true murderer now.” I knew perfectly well the real murderer was watching the stream at that very moment.