Kaori Miyazono Death

Three years after I died, my mother sent me twenty dollars for living expenses. Three years before that—the first time I ever asked my family for money—she said to me, offhand, "Sometimes I think you're just putting on an act. What's so unsanitary about a thirty-cent boxed meal? And why can't you wear a five-dollar down jacket? Face it, you're just more high-maintenance than your little brother." Later, when I needed twenty dollars to buy some cheap medicine for my stomachache, she blocked me immediately and cut off all contact—along with every relative we had. "Don't contact me anymore. I'm clearly not a good mother. I can't afford to give my son a life of luxury." But for my younger brother, who had just started high school, she spared no expense—renting him a three-bedroom apartment. Even the family dog got its own room. In the end, on the day my brother became the top scorer in the state, she finally remembered me. She took me off her block list and transferred twenty dollars. "It's only twenty dollars. Was it really worth giving your family the silent treatment for three whole years?" What she never knew was this— On the night my stomach ruptured, three years ago, I had already died. I couldn't afford to go to the hospital. I froze to death in the snow.

I was crushed into a pulp by a speeding semi-truck while my mother was at a baking class with my cousin. When I called her, desperate, she only snapped at me. "What's all the racket? Kyle burned his hand because your call distracted him. Did you do that on purpose?" The next day, in her capacity as one of the city's most celebrated morticians, she was assigned to restore the face of a body mangled beyond recognition. She worked on it for a full day and night and still couldn't bring back the dead woman's face. Mom, can you really not recognize her? That's the face of the daughter you hated most.

My mother is hospitalized due to a terminal illness. She's in urgent need of a kidney transplant to save her life. I'm the only one who can perform the surgery, but I give the kidney to a stranger. My father and husband get on their knees before me on the day of the surgery. They beg me to save my mother. However, I shrug and say, "I can't do anything about this. A life is a life, regardless of who the person is. This is what she gets for coming late—death is waiting for her."

My family has always considered me a harbinger of misfortune. It's all because I can see a countdown to my relatives' deaths. I tell them when my grandfather, father, and mother will die. It all comes true due to various accidents. My three brothers hate me to the core because they think I cursed my parents and grandfather. My mother actually dies after giving birth to my younger sister, but my brothers dote on her to no end. They say she's their lucky star because everything goes well for the family after she's born. But didn't Mom die while giving birth to her? On my 18th birthday, I see my death countdown when I look at myself in the mirror. I buy an urn I like and prepare a meal. I want to have one last meal with my brothers, but none of them show up even when the timer hits zero…

My husband, who was a drug enforcement police officer, personally got me into rehab. My son was cheering on the side, saying that he no longer had to see me under the influence for a long time. After I was discharged, I discovered my husband moved in with his lover and our son. I begged him to come back and told him that someone would kill me. He did not believe me. Instead, he said coldly, “If you die, you better end up in a trash can. Otherwise, I’d have to deal with your body.” My son cheered at the side. “Mommy is finally gone!” After a week, I was dismembered. My body parts were found in multiple trash cans. He was the police in charge of the case.

The fake heiress, Jean Shore, has left a suicide note prior to taking her own life. In the note, she claims that I'm the one who killed her. In order to make me admit my crime, my parents has sent me to an institution as a human test subject. Every day, I'm forced to endure inhuman torture of all sorts. Needless to say, I'm in so much pain that I choose to secretly take some poison in order to kill myself. But my enraged older brother, Sebastian Shore, saves my life. With bloodshot eyes, he yanks me by the hair while yelling at me. "The pain that you've gone through isn't even a thousandth of the pain Jean had endured! You don't have the right to die!" I can only obey Sebastian numbly. But soon, I get sent to the restricted area. There, my belly swells with life, only for me to lose it some time later. Finally, I've learned my lesson and become docile. No matter what anyone asks me, I keep admitting that I'm a vile woman who has killed Jean. My parents burst into delighted tears. Sebastian can't wait to have me sent to the court, where I will be sentenced for my crime. He tells me, "As long as you admits your crime and go through the punishment, we'll forgive you." I say yes in an obedient manner. I know that my family wants me to be sentenced to death. But what they don't know is that I can't live long enough for the death sentence to be carried out.