Divine Death

When the news of my death on the battlefield, pinned to the pack's watchtower by silver arrows, reached my pack, my Alpha mate, Killian, simply laughed. He thought I was just jealous he was going to claim the Rogue, that I was faking my own death just to get his attention. "I was just trying to bring Valerie into the pack, and this is how she threatens me? With her own death?" "I left her with my most elite warriors. How could she possibly be dead!" "Tell her to get back here. I will claim Valerie, but after that, the title of Luna is still hers." Seven days later, he appeared before my family's home, carrying the ceremonial Luna circlet. He saw me in my white ceremonial dress, resting quietly beneath the white birch tree in the garden, and he breathed a sigh of relief. "I knew it. You were just giving me the silent treatment again." But in the next second, a pack elder's voice thundered: "Prepare the funeral pyre. Let us pay our final respects to our fallen warrior, Sloane!"

After the plane crash, I rejected the captain—my brother-in-law’s—final life jacket that he had as he handed it to me. Instead, I allowed myself to plunge a hundred meters from the sky. In my previous life, I had survived after accepting his life jacket. But he died a tragic death in the crash. After his death, I was consumed with guilt. My husband proposed to take care of two households at the same time so that he could look after his sister-in-law. Out of guilt, I reluctantly agreed to his proposal. I even had to give up my only chance of getting promoted to department head of the hospital to my sister-in-law, upon my husband’s insistence. When I was seventy years old, I suddenly saw my brother-in-law, who was supposed to be dead, show up in front of me. He said to my husband, “Bro, thank goodness you came up with that fake-death plan back then. I was drunk and caused the deaths of all the passengers after the plane crash. If not for that plan of yours, as the captain, I certainly could not have escaped scot-free and would have been sentenced to prison for life! “It was too bad we had to keep her in the dark for her entire life.” After a lifetime of sacrifices, I was so furious that I nearly passed out upon hearing my brother-in-law’s words. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the plane crash.

My mom is a retired supermodel. She's added a monitor to the weight scales at home so that she can monitor my and my sister, Abigail Teller's perfect body weight. If my data goes up by 0.1%, Mom will ban me from eating for the next three days. But the thing is, Abigail keeps eating fried chicken every day, yet her monitor's light is always green. Mom claims that Abigail's still going through puberty. I defend myself, saying that I've gained weight because of the bloating caused by my period. As Mom points at the red light emitted by my monitor, she exclaims, "The data is never wrong! If you've gained weight, that means you've been snacking far too much!" After getting punished many times, I begin believing that being fat is a sin. On the night of my 20th birthday, the long-term diet I've been placed on has triggered my kidney failure, which causes me to bloat up everywhere. I kneel on the floor and plead to Mom that I'm seriously ill. But that's when the monitor lets out a shrill alarm. When Mom sees the 5% increase in my body fat data, she puts me through a devillish punishment. I can feel the electric currents jolting through my body. "It's bad enough that you've secretly snacked on cake, but to even lie in my face about your illness? I'd like to see how long you can stay stubborn for!" Having said her piece, Mom locks the door and takes Abigail out to celebrate her birthday. I guess Mom is correct. Monitors never lie. I'm the one who's at the wrong for being a glutton. That's why I've transformed into a monster who doesn't deserve any love at all. I'm sorry, Mom. I'll only drink water in my next life.

My sister ate the half plate of mango I had left on the table and broke out in hives from her allergy. My brother stormed over, pried my mouth open, and poured the mango juice straight down my throat. "You love mangoes so much, don't you? Today you'll get your fill." The juice flooded my lungs. I choked, fighting for air as my throat swelled in agony, begging him to save me. Instead, he turned and locked me in the basement. "Betty suffered because of you, so don't expect any comfort. Stay down here and reflect on what you've done. Growing up without any real guidance. No wonder you're so vicious." Two days later, my mom remembered me. "Ralph, that's enough. Let Catherine out. If she stays there much longer, she might start resenting Betty." My dad chimed in casually, "What's the big deal? Just buy her something nice to make up for it." My spirit clung to his back, floating along with them toward the basement. I'd like to see how they were going to compensate a dead girl.

The first experiment in the world of retrieving memories after death succeeds, and my memories are going to be broadcast live all over the Internet. My dad has just learned about my death, but he only says in a disgusted tone, "Who would want to see the memories of someone who is selfish, mean, and has nothing commendable at all about them? Today is the wedding day of Zoe and Cameron. Pause the live broadcast and stop being so sickening!" Zoe is my stepsister, and Cameron is supposed to be my fiance. After that, my father finds out the truth from the live broadcast of my memories. He begs for my forgiveness tearfully but… I'm already dead.

After the car accident, one of the Johnson sons was dead and the other gravely injured. When my devout, devoted husband woke up in the hospital, he called out, "Dorothy." He claimed that his body then held the soul of his brother, Elias Johnson. I went mad, calling doctors, priests, anyone I could, desperate to bring my husband back. It was not until that night that I overheard his conversation with our son: "Father, you've loved aunt for years. You even kept yourself chaste in your private prayer room, waiting. Now, finally, you can be with her openly." The man in the bed reached out to stroke our son's hair. "If it weren't to stop your mother from destroying her relationship, I wouldn't have married her." I hid in the shadows, still reeling from their words, when I saw what happened after our son left. The husband I had always known, icy, composed, and ascetic to maintain his devout faith for seven years, was then holding his sister-in-law close on that tiny hospital bed, sharing a warmth meant for lovers. The next day, I applied for Jim Johnson's death certificate and burned our marriage certificate. At his grand wedding, I climbed aboard the helicopter sent to fetch me. However, my once-cold husband went mad, chasing after us down several streets, desperate and unhinged.

My sister, Winona Clarke, was stabbed to death by a thug in order to save me. My mom, Amber Green, does not want my nephew, Sonny Cohen, to suffer. So, she suggests that I marry my brother-in-law, Kenneth Cohen, and take care of the father and son. For Sonny's safety, I end up on the verge of death due to Kenneth's relentless and merciless torture. Just then, Winona, who should have been dead, returns! Her arm linked with a millionaire's, she boasts to me, "Thank you for putting up with that maniac and sticking around until he died. Not only did you help me raise Sonny, who has Super Male Syndrome, but you even made it possible for me to inherit all of Kenneth's assets through Sonny." Sonny joins Winona in belittling me and even spreads rumors that I killed Kenneth. Because of her lies, I become notorious online and eventually die while being the subject of everyone's criticism and ridicule. The heavens must have taken mercy on me, for I am granted a second chance at life. Now, I am back to the day Mom wants me to marry Kenneth.

When a turbulence strikes an airplane that's tens of thousands of miles above ground, the pilot, Kevin Glover, uses the opportunity to confess his love for the co-pilot, Serena Burke. Both of them come clean about their feelings for each other, not knowing that Kevin's wife, Henley Johnstone is on the plane as well. The brimming affection in Kevin's tone hurts her ears. "Serena, I'll marry you." At the same time, Henley's son, Isaac Glover, who sits in the row in front of her, pipes up in a disgusted tone, "My mom isn't worthy of remaining as my mom. I want Serena to be my mom instead." Henley feels crushed and defeated. Sorrow overwhelms her senses as well. Once the plane overcomes the crisis and lands on the tarmac, she calls her assistant, Edith Pratt. "I want to sign up as the test subject of the death-faking pill. I don't want my husband and son anymore." Henley sets the date of her death on her wedding anniversary. Once all preparations are done, she takes the death-faking pill. When she wakes up, she'll embrace her new life. Some time later, when Kevin finds out about Henley's death, he wails like a madman.

My fiancé’s first love and I fell down the stairs at the same time, and he chose to save her instead, leaving me to lie there in a pool of blood as I waited for an ambulance. On the brink of death, I begged him not to abandon me, and he only kicked my hand away, saying, “Elodie, can’t you show a little kindness? Don’t you see that Celeste is unconscious?! “…I’ll make sure you pay for this later!” ‘Later’, as he put it, didn’t come to pass. As he left with his first love in his arms, I died along with the baby inside my womb.

My mom, who works as a lawyer, decides to take me to court just because I refuse to donate my platelets to my younger sister, Lindsey Finch. I explained to her that I have a blood clotting disorder, and having an extremely low platelet count would put my life at risk. But she screamed at me through tears: “Can’t you just stop pretending? Do you really have to let your sister die? How could I have raised such an ungrateful wretch?” I lost the case, and my platelets were forcibly taken. I suffered a massive hemorrhage and died a miserable death alone in a deserted corner.