What Does 'Killing Me Inside A Fresh Start For Something New' Mean?

When my cousin died, my aunt forced me to marry her husband in order to take care of the child she left behind. She said that it was a way to pay her back for raising me after the death of my mom. For eight years of being in the marriage, I was bullied by my cousin's son, accusing me killing his mom in order to take over her home. And my husband? He never defended me. To them, I was nothing more than a mere house help. And the day I had looked forward finally came, when I could walk away from the marriage. But fate had other plans—I died in pain that very day. Now, with a second chance at life, I made one thing clear: I was done with that miserable family, for good.

Jack Spencer used to be someone else. Someone older, someone hardened, someone who made the mistake of trusting the wrong people—and paid for it with his life. Now, he’s in a different body, staring at a future that doesn’t belong to him. He should be grateful for this second chance. He should want to start over. But how do you move forward when every part of you is still trapped in the past? How do you live when you already died once? Jack tells himself he doesn’t need friends. He doesn’t need love. He doesn’t need anything but distance. But the more he pushes people away, the more they insist on seeing the person he refuses to be. And when the remnants of his past begin creeping into his new life, Jack has to decide: Is he doomed to repeat the same mistakes, or can he finally break free from the dead-end path that refuses to let him go? (Trigger Warnings Included)

She started her new life with a heart full of hopes and lots of dreams to be fulfilled by her life partner, but got to know later that he will be the one who shatters them with a snap of his fingers. But she still held onto the last string hoping beyond hope until a fateful day. She thinks everything has ended in her life. Then she meets a person who has the same story to tell her and also with similar feelings. Then their lives collide, but with their conscience. Maybe every END has really a NEW BEGINNING…

HER : I had to leave, i had my reasons. Leaving changed me. I had to forget my past, to adapt with my present, to face the future. I suddenly came back, but the problem is...I am different now. HIM : She left, without any reason, she didn't even say goodbye. Losing her changed me. I couldn't forget my past, my present stopped, i can't face the future. She suddenly came back, but the problem is...I am different now. We saw them fight, laugh, shout, cry. We saw them fall in love, we saw them get married and start on with their lives. But one man from her past -suddenly comes back- knocks on her door, enters her life and everything after goes downhill. Secret reveals, dreams get shattered, hearts get crashed, old wounds open again, and new scars start to show. They split apart, they hate , they change. And right now; they're not dead, yet still not alive. And the question stays; Will they ever get their love back, or will it just be the death of them both?

As the news broadcast reported a random serial killing near my residential complex, I knew—I had been reborn once again. In my first life, my husband insisted on going out in the middle of a snowstorm to buy weapons for self-defense. I locked every door and window, waiting at home, anxiety clawing at my chest. I never imagined the killer could pick locks. Before I could even react, a blade plunged into me, and I died on the couch. In my second life, I didn't hesitate. I hid in a concealed storage room, holding my breath. But the door was still pulled open. A man wearing a rabbit mask stared straight at me. "Found you," he said. In my third life, I ran to the police station. I rushed inside and told the officer on duty that the killings weren't random—that the murderer was coming for me. They looked at me like I'd lost my mind. Then my husband arrived in a hurry and took me away. But the moment we reached our front door, a heavy hammer smashed into the back of my head. Through the blinding pain, I forced my eyes open, but I never saw who killed me. Now, staring at the grave expression on the news anchor's face, agony surged through every inch of my body. Rebirth isn't a reset. The damage accumulates—and sooner or later, it will torture me to death. Without hesitation, I walked into the kitchen and set a pot of oil to heat. And I waited… for the moment the lock began to turn.

I jumped in front of a dagger for a man who didn’t love me. I know how that sounds. I knew how it sounded then too, somewhere in the back of my mind, but my body was already moving and the wolfbane was already spreading through my blood before I could talk myself out of anything. He held me while I was dying. Said my name like it mattered. And I lay there on that cold floor thinking maybe. Maybe this is the moment he finally sees me. Then Vanessa knelt beside him and they started talking and I realized they thought I was already gone. I almost was. But not yet. I heard every word. I died on that floor knowing the truth about what I was to him. Not a love. Not even a choice. Just a girl who stayed close and never complained and made herself easy to keep around. Then I woke up at eighteen and everything was exactly the same same room, same pack, same people except me. I remember everything. And I’m not the same girl anymore.