Kurapika Death

Five years had gone by since my death. The cops called my mom and told her they got news about me. My mother and brother marched to my grandmother's home and kicked her door down. "Where's Charlie? That shameless woman has been hiding from us far too long. Her brother needs her cornea, and she's giving it to him!" "Charlie's dead," said my grandmother, sobbing. My mother sneered. "As if. The cops called us. They said they had her news. Hand her over or get out of the house, you hag." My grandmother looked at her daughter, tears streaming down her cheeks. With trembling hands, she took my photo out. "I wonder if you've ever regretted saving your brother, Charlie."

My parents used the compensation money from my sister's car accident to buy a four-room house, but they only let me stay in the bathroom. My twin brothers, who were not even a year old, each had their own room. When the twins grew up, they got into a car accident. One of them needed a corneal transplant, the other needed a heart. My parents begged me to donate and save them. When I tried to escape, they betrayed me. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back to the time just after my sister's death. I sought justice for my sister and myself, and made my parents pay for what they had done.

The daughter of my father's first love suffered from heatstroke because she was left in the car, so he tied me up in a fit of anger and locked me in the car boot. He looked at me with utter disgust and said, "I don't have a vicious daughter like you. Stay here and reflect on yourself." I begged him, apologized to him, and pleaded for him to let me out, but all I got in return was his ruthless order. "Unless she dies, no one is allowed to let her out." The car was parked in the garage. No one could hear me no matter how much I screamed for help. Seven days later, he finally remembered me and decided to let me out. However, he had no idea that I had already died in that trunk and could never wake up again.

Ang anak ng first love ng tatay ko ay nagdusa sa heatstroke dahil iniwan ito sa sasakyan, kaya itinali niya ako sa galit at ikinulong ako sa loob ng kotse. Tinignan niya ako nang may labis na pagkamuhi at sinabing, “Wala akong malupit na anak na tulad mo. Manatili ka rito at pagnilayan mo ang sarili mo.” Nagmakaawa ako sa kanya, humingi ako ng kapatawaran sa kanya, at nakiusap na palabasin niya ako, pero ang nakuha ko lang bilang kapalit ay ang kanyang malupit na utos. “Maliban kung mamatay siya, walang sinong pwedeng magpalabas sa kanya.” Nakaparada ang kotse sa garahe. Walang makarinig sa akin kahit gaano kadaming beses akong sumigaw. Makalipas ang pitong araw, sa wakas ay naalala niya ako at nagpasyang palabasin na ako. Gayumpaman, wala siyang ideya na namatay na ako sa loob at hindi na muling magigising.

"I don't want to go with you on this business trip," Lucy Landon said at the dinner table. Her voice was calm, so calm that no one could sense anything unusual. Steven Cooper's trip was set for June 1st. It wasn't their wedding anniversary, nor was it anyone's birthday. Just an ordinary Children's Day. Three days ago, she had stumbled upon a voice message on Steven's phone. A child's soft and childish voice had said, "Daddy, for Children's Day, I want to go to Maldove to see the fishes!"

I am diagnosed with severe systemic lupus erythematosus, and I only have three days left to live. When my husband rejects my 188th plea for help, I take my test results and enter the hospice care center. "Hello, I'd like to schedule my own cremation process and apply for government aid." Ten minutes later, they arrive. Before I can speak, my lawyer husband, Jasper Horton, coldly slaps me across the face. "You're faking a terminal illness just to steal attention from Janice?" My doctor brother, Casey Carter, snatches the medical report from my hand and scoffs at it. "Lupus? If you're going to fake being sick, at least make it believable. Only one in a million people gets this." I endure the pain in my body, return to the counter, and hand in the application form and my medical records once more. The staff member sees the butterfly-shaped rash on my wrist and sympathizes with me. "I have no family left," I say. "I'm requesting cremation in three days, location doesn't matter. I just don't want my death to burden anyone."

On the day of the company's annual gala, I quit my job and went back to the countryside, using up all my savings to help my best friend raise her daughter. She had died tragically, swept away by the river while trying to retrieve my hundred-million-dollar gala prize ticket that had fallen into the water. Wracked with guilt, I honored her dying wish and married her husband. After the wedding, I sold my blood and even a kidney just to make ends meet, raising my stepdaughter with everything I had. Eventually, she fulfilled her dream of winning the Best Actress Award and was about to marry the richest man in the country. But just as I was preparing to give a speech at her wedding, I saw my best friend, who had been dead for over a decade. She clutched my stepdaughter's hand and accused me of being a homewrecker who seduced her husband, and even claimed I had been the one who pushed her into the river all those years ago. Only then did I learn the truth—she had faked her death all those years ago, just to steal my prize ticket and travel the world, leaving me behind to raise her family. The shock sent me into a cerebral hemorrhage. When I opened my eyes again, I had gone back to the day she drowned.

I've loved my husband for five years, but he's never reciprocated my feelings. In fact, on the day after my death, he runs straight into his true love's arms. During my absence, he sneers and says, "She's up to her old tricks again." When he receives a call telling him to identify my body, he's excited. He thinks he can see my reaction to having my scheme exposed. He doesn't know that I'm long dead, though.

"Miss Elara, this confirms the arrangement for your 'staged death.' In two weeks, at the Luna coronation ceremony, your death will be staged." "You will fall into the rapids, and the cause will be poisoning by wolfsbane." When my Alpha mate, Aiden, abandoned me again for "urgent pack business," I found a rogue on the black market and signed the staged death agreement without a second thought. The entire werewolf world believed Alpha Aiden was madly in love with me. He certainly played the part, never forgetting to kiss my forehead every time he left. But only I knew that for the thirty-ninth time he kissed me, he had also spent the night lost in a drunken haze with that Omega model, Cassia. But none of that mattered anymore. A tainted Alpha, I was done with him. At the coronation he treasured most, I would ensure he received the most perfect corpse.

My grandfather, Terry Sims, suffered from bipolar disorder and was prone to anger and mood swings. My mother, Catherine, was his only chill pill. On the day they were hunted down by enemies, my mom went into early labor and lost her life in an attempt to save him. Devastated, my grandfather could not see a way out of his disorder and poured all his love into me. He would pull out the tongues of those who mocked me and fed them to the dogs. The families of those who hurt me would meet their end. It was known to the people of Mistvale that the granddaughter of Terry Sims was untouchable. Due to my congenital heart disease, he reluctantly sent me abroad for medical treatment. After my surgery, I rushed back to his side for his birthday, thinking of giving him a surprise. However, I was mistaken for a gold digger by a carer and locked in the basement. “Of all the things you can do for your age, you throw yourself at men. Since your parents won’t restrain your behavior, I’ll have to do it for them.” She pulled out my tongue, dumped acid all over me, and dug out my snewly transplanted heart to give as a birthday gift to my grandfather, who had been waiting for my return. “Mr. Sims, the skank tried to impersonate Ms. Sims, but I got everything sorted out for you.”