Remorse Family

My parents have always been biased against me, even as a child. They leave me in the countryside while raising my brother themselves. When I'm finally brought to live with them, they neglect me because they don't want my brother to be upset. When my brother says that I'm rude and falsely accuses me of getting people to assault him, my parents believe him without a shadow of doubt. And so, I'm sent to a residential treatment center. Under my parents' tacit permission and my brother's persuasion, the teachers at the center "educate" me inhumanely. In the end, I learn my lesson, as everyone wishes. I die while learning it, too.

Nang dumating ang college admission notice, bigla akong nagkaroon ng mataas na lagnat at napilitan akong manatili sa kama. Ang aking kapatid na babae ay sangkot sa isang kidnapping habang nasa daan upang tulungan akong kunin ang notice, at ang kanyang buhay ay hindi tiyak. Galit na galit sa akin ang mga magulang ko. Matapos punitin ang aking admission notice, pinilit nila akong talikuran ang aking pag-aaral at magtrabaho sa isang pabrika. Nang maglaon, nakaranas din ako ng kidnapping. Pagkatapos makatakas, nagtago ako sa isang abandonadong pabrika at nagpadala ng mensahe para sa tulong. Tinawagan ako ng tatay ko at walang pigil na sinigawan ako, “Lena, tao ka ba? Paano mo nagawang magbiro sa amin sa memorial day ni Jessica!” "May ideya ka ba kung gaano namin hinihiling ng nanay mo na ikaw ang namatay noon?" Sa mga huling sandali ko bago mamatay, umalingawngaw sa aking pandinig ang kanilang mga pang-iinsulto. Ako ay tinorture at pinatay, naging isang halimaw, at ang aking katawan ay itinapon sa isang mabahong kanal sa loob ng tatlong buong araw. Kahit na ang aking ama, ang pinaka experienced na forensic expert, ay hindi ako nakilala. Nang umuwi ang aking kapatid na babae kasama ang lalaking kasama niya ilang taon na ang nakalilipas, pinanumbalik ng aking ama ang aking hitsura sa pamamagitan ng teknolohiya. Lumuhod sila sa harapan ng naaagnas kong bangkay at umiyak hanggang sa mawalan ng malay.

I had a cousin my age. She overslept and was late for her SATs. Yet, she pinned the blame on me, saying that I made her take some fever medication. She stole 300 thousand meant for Grandma's surgery, claiming it was to buy me a car. She even insisted I was at fault when she accidentally got pregnant and took the wrong abortion pills, leading to severe bleeding. She vehemently insisted I pushed her, causing her to fall. My boyfriend stood by her side time and time again. Eventually, he finally gave up on me, telling me it was over. My aunt shoved me down the stairs, accusing me of ruining her daughter's life. My boyfriend witnessed the whole thing, but he told them I had fallen by accident when the police came. I died without ever seeing justice for myself. When I thought my life was finally over, I opened my eyes. I had returned to the day my cousin stole the money meant for Grandma's surgery.

We were on our way to celebrate our son’s birthday when we got into a car crash. When I woke up, I looked at my family gathered around my hospital bed and cracked a joke: “Sorry, but who are you guys?” I held back a smile, curious to see how they'd humor their "amnesiac" patient. Would my mother grab my hand in a panic? Would my husband look at me with worry? Would my son rush over, crying and calling me Mom? What I didn't expect was for them to freeze for a moment—and then, almost in unison, let out sighs of relief. My mother was the first to speak, her tone unmistakably lighter, as if a huge weight had been lifted. "If you don’t remember, it’s probably for the best. This is Lindsay—your sister, she’s my daughter. You were adopted." My husband then pointed at me and said to our son, "You should call her Aunt Wendy." Before the shock could even sink in, I watched the child I'd fought so hard to protect turn and throw himself into the arms of Lindsay. "Mom! I played outside all day. I missed you so much!" So that was the truth. My amnesia was exactly what they'd been hoping for. In that case, I didn't need this made-up life anymore.

As the youngest daughter of the Costellos, I had always lived in my sister’s shadow. That was until five years ago, when she betrayed the family and ran off with a street thug. I took her place and completed the wedding with Elio Ross. Over the years, he loved and indulged me, but we never got a marriage license. He always said family matters kept him busy, and that, with or without it, I was his wife in his and the family’s eyes. I believed him. Until today… I watched as Elio walked out of the church with my sister Alyssa, who had been missing for five years, both of them wearing the family rings that symbolized their union. At the church entrance, three black SUVs opened their doors simultaneously, and my three brothers stepped out in tailored suits. “The ceremony’s done? We’ve already booked Antonio’s to celebrate Alyssa’s return.” They climbed into the cars, expressing their joy, while no one noticed my pale, shattered face across the street. Later that night, under the guise of apology, my sister let a venomous spider bite me. “A substitute is always a substitute. Now that I’m back, it’s time for you to die.” I screamed for help. However, my husband and my three brothers only rushed to hold my sister, who had pretended she had fallen, without a glance at me, writhing from the poison. They called in every specialist from the hospital, only to tend to my sister’s scraped knee. That was the moment my heart truly broke. After being dragged back from death’s door by the doctors, I made my decision. I picked up the phone and called the International Private Island Exchange. “That isolated, uninhabited island… I’ll take it.”

On the day my husband married my younger sister, I once again heard the divine message from the Astral Sanctuary: if I sever all ties to the mortal world within three days, I can reclaim the astral power I relinquished and return to the Astral Sanctuary. On the first day, I publicly cut my hair to symbolize the severing of love and signed the separation letter, ending my three-year marriage to the man I once loved. Holding my sister in his arms, he looked at me with disdain. His words dripped with mockery as he called me petty and jealous, claiming that sparing me the title of an equal wife had been his greatest act of kindness. On the second day, I drove a blade into myself six times, severing my bond with my cherished elder brother. He stood by, cold and unfeeling, sneering that I was nothing more than a desperate fool, resorting to theatrics to compete for his affection—a devotion he reserved entirely for my sister. On the third day, I clenched my teeth and carved through my own flesh and bone, severing my connection to the parents who had given me life. Enraged, they called me ungrateful and declared I was unworthy—not just of being their daughter, but even of being compared to my perfect sister. In the end, I succumbed to exhaustion and blood loss. My spirit ascended to the Astral Sanctuary, where I reclaimed my true identity as an Astral Maiden. When my family discovered my lifeless body left behind in the mortal realm, they all descended into madness.

A car accident leaves me unconscious for a full three years. When I wake up, my family bursts into tears of joy. They care for me with the utmost attention. But from their behavior, I sense something is wrong. There are women's clothes in the house that don't fit me. My mother's shopping cart is filled with mysterious baby items. My father's friends send congratulatory messages about a new child, and my husband is always working overtime. When my husband once again leaves me alone under the pretext that there is something urgent at the company, I secretly follow him. Inside a warmly decorated house, my parents and husband sit around a table. A woman who looks almost exactly like me is holding a baby just a few months old, gently coaxing the child to call my husband "Daddy".

In my parents' hearts, there was always a "perfect son" who died too soon. I was just his flawed substitute, while my younger brother was their new hope. They pretended to be poor for 20 years, secretly funneling all their resources to him. While I was in the final stages of stomach cancer, writhing in pain, they were spending millions of dollars to build him a state-of-the-art study room. When the doctor told me to notify my family about hospital bills, I felt helpless, thinking they were just ordinary, broke workers. When my mom finally showed up at the hospital, she grabbed my hand, not out of concern. "Neville is under so much stress with his college entrance exams. Can you not die right now? He can't take it." My dad stood by, wearing a stern expression. "David was way more sensible than you."

My wife transplanted the donor heart I had waited for two years for to the fake heir, Sean Morgan. The doctor said I only had one week left to live, so I decided to freeze my body. I donated my body to Sean's lab. On the day I signed the donation letter, my daughter threw herself into my arms and said I had finally made up with her uncle. My parents praised me for finally understanding the deep bond and mutual support between brothers. My wife said with relief, "You've finally let go of your grudges and become an understanding person." I smiled gently. "Yes, this time I’ve really learned my lesson. I will return the status of the Morgan family heir to Sean and fulfill your wishes.”

The moment I was born, I took her life. They called me a murderer. Marcus used to burn me with cigarette butts, and Dad would say it was my fate. “You’re a curse. If you had any conscience, you’d have gone to join Mom a long time ago to repay what you owe.” When Marcus was diagnosed with kidney failure, that same cold, distant father knelt in front of me. “Please… save him…” I put my hand on Dad’s shoulder. “Dad, I’ll do the surgery. But can you promise me one thing?” Dad performed the surgery himself. It was a success. He saved the son he loved most and took the life of the daughter he hated. But after I died, Dad turned himself in to the police, and Marcus lost his mind.