Tessia Eralith Death

In my past life, my husband brought our daughter, who was down with a cold, to his father's hospital so she could see a doctor. Later, she was pronounced dead. When I hurried to the hospital after hearing the news, he'd already transferred her organs to his true love's son's body. It was later that I learned my father-in-law was the one who extracted my daughter's organs when her vitals were perfectly fine. I was heartbroken and devastated. I wanted my husband and his family to give me an explanation for this, but he and his parents killed me by poisoning. When I open my eyes again, I'm back to the moment my husband has just taken my daughter away.

After the real son, Asher Vale, was brought back, everything in our house became tied to drawing lots. The chef of the day, who would have to cook a particular person's preferred dishes, had to be decided by drawing lots. Even our parents' kisses and hugs were chosen the same way. I always drew the short stick. The long stick, by default, belonged to Asher. He never had to do anything to receive our parents' love. Whenever I felt it was unfair and wanted to cry, Mom would scold me sharply, "I bought the lot-drawing box because I was afraid you'd feel hurt. I wanted to be fair to both of you. If you want something, decide it yourselves. Your father and I won't interfere. If you can't draw the long stick, you can only blame your bad luck." So I began practicing every day, shaking the box diligently, over and over, in hopes that one day, it would help me earn my parents' love. Unfortunately, for ten years, I never once drew the long stick. Until my birthday. Asher wanted to go to the amusement park, and Mom once again told us to decide by drawing lots. I secretly glued the two short sticks together and handed them to Mom, hoping to keep her with me. She slapped me hard across the face, screaming that I was cheating and disobedient. Then she stormed out of the house with Asher. When I fell to the ground, the short stick stabbed deep into my neck. 'I'm sorry, Mom. Next time, I'll work harder. Next time, I'll definitely draw the long stick.'

I am the woman who stays the longest by the side of mafia Don Jasper Shaw. I believe I hold a unique place in his heart. But when his beloved Rosie Hurley suffers violation and falls pregnant, everything changes. Accused of orchestrating Rosie's downfall, I become the venomous villain in their eyes. To shield Rosie from gossip, Jasper publicly claims her unborn child as his own. Meanwhile, I am branded a depraved woman, defiled and discarded. Desperate, I reveal my own pregnancy to Jasper, pleading for our child’s future. He dismisses it as a ploy for attention. When I confront him, his words cut deep. "This is the sin you must atone for. Rosie has always been raised like a princess, and she can't endure the whispers—not like you." For the first time, I realize I am nothing to Jasper but a tool for his desires. Rosie locks me in a cramped cellar, where I suffocate and die. My body lies undiscovered for a month. When Jasper receives the call to identify my corpse, he brushes it off, prioritizing Rosie's prenatal checkup. "Amara's lies are piling up. So what if she's dead? Cremate her and then talk to me." My body enters the furnace and is reduced to a handful of ashes. Later, the mighty Jasper Shaw kneels and sobs uncontrollably. He begs for just one glimpse of me.

Ang ampon ng aking ama ay ikinulong lamang sa masikip na storage closet nang halos labinlimang minuto, ngunit tinalian niya ako at itinapon sa loob bilang parusa. Tinakpan pa niya ang ventilation gamit ang mga tuwalya. "Bilang nakatatandang kapatid ni Wendy, kung hindi mo siya kayang alagaan, marapat lamang na maranasan mo rin ang takot na naramdaman niya,” seryoso niyang sabi. Alam niyang may claustrophobia ako, ngunit ang aking mga desperadong pakiusap, ang aking matinding takot, ay sinagot lang ng malupit na sermon. "Magsilbi sana itong aral sayo para maging mabuting kapatid." Nang tuluyang lamunin ng kadiliman ang huling hibla ng liwanag, nakakaawa akong nagpumiglas. Isang linggo ang lumipas bago muling naalala ng aking ama na may anak pa siyang nakakulong at nagpasya siyang tapusin na ang aking parusa. "Sana'y naging magandang aral sa iyo ang isang linggong ito, Jennifer. Kung mangyayari pa ito muli, hindi ka na pwedeng manatili sa bahay na ito." Ngunit kailanman ay hindi niya malalaman na matagal ko nang nalanghap ang aking huling hininga sa nakakasulasok na silid na iyon. Sa kadiliman, unti-unti nang nabubulok ang aking katawan.

My wife, Caroline Bailey, was a forensic pathologist. For her first love, Ian Lawson, she was willing to break every rule she held sacred and allowed him into the autopsy room to observe. She even let him throw acid onto a corpse's face. That was, until Caroline took on a new case. As she stood over the disfigured body on her operating table, she began to fall apart. The acid-burned face was starting to look more and more like mine.

After I became a vegetable, Samuel kept me alive for two years with all sorts of tubes. I thought he couldn’t bear to let me go—until his true love returned to the country. He took my corneas and transplanted them to her. Right in front of me, he spoke to her with the utmost tenderness: “Don't worry; you'll be fine. These eyes have been prepared for you for two years.” As a result, I had an adverse reaction after the surgery and passed away. When he heard the news, his eyes turned crimson with rage, and he nearly smashed the hospital: ”Didn't you say there wouldn’t be any problems?!”

When Joseph Belfort was at his lowest, he caught me lying in bed with another man. Later, he made it big and married me in a wedding of the century. Everyone said he loved me more than life itself, but I knew he only did it out of revenge. Every day, he brings different women home. He sleeps with them to my face, even telling me to serve them. I do as told as long as he pays me. He's thoroughly disappointed in me and asks for a divorce. Then, he gives everything I once wished for to Yarra Quinton. He doesn't know everything I did in the past was just a lie, though. I'm about to die.

After my mother shot down my pleas to cover my medical bills the 100th time, I clutched my bone cancer diagnosis papers and trudged to the crematorium. "Hi, I'd like to reserve a cremation slot ahead of time," I muttered to the clerk. Half an hour ticked by before my parents and adopted brother arrived in their car. My dad, a forensic pathologist, cracked me across the face. "You're pulling a fake-death stunt now, just to steal the spotlight from your brother?" My mom, a hospital director, snatched the papers from my hands and shredded them into confetti. "Faking records using my credentials and tying up hospital resources? You've crossed the line!" My brother cried, tugging at their sleeves. "It's all my fault. I'll skip the amusement park forever. I don't need a thing. Just quit riling up Mom and Dad." I spun around, my hand pressed against my throbbing chest, and begged the crematorium staff. "Please, when it's time, cremate me and scatter the ashes in the river. I've got no family left in this world."

Ang boyfriend ko ay forensic doctor. Nakidnap ako at may nakadikit na bomba—meron na lamang sampung minuto bago sumabog. Ang mga nagkidnap sa akin ay pinilit na tawagan ko ang boyfriend ko, pero napagalitan lamang ako. “Ano bang kailangan mo, Michelle? Anong pinaplano mo, ginagamit ang buhay mo bilang palusot dahil lang nagseselos ka?” “Ang pusa ni Vi ay hindi makuha mula sa puno ng tatlong araw na. Mahal niya ito na parang ang buhay nito ay buhay niya! Kung idedelay mo ako sa pagligtas dito, magiging mamamatay tao ka!” Nakarinig ako ng malanding boses sa kabilang dulo ng tawag. “Salamat para dito, Kev. Ang husay mo!” Nakilala ko ang boses na iyon—pagmamay ari ito ng childhood friend ng boyfriend ko. Tinext ko ang boyfriend ko ng sasabog na ang bomba. “Paalam habang buhay. Pinagdadasal ko na hindi na tayo magkita pang muli sa ibang buhay.”

I was slowly dying from Silverthorn Wolfsbane, and there was only one cure—the Miracle Elixir. But my mate, Leo Ashford, bought it and gave it to my adoptive sister, Jane Smith. He did it because he thought I was faking my illness. I gave up on the treatment and swallowed a potent painkiller instead. It would kill me in three days by shutting down my organs. In those three days, I gave up everything. I handed over the fur manufacturing business I built from the ground up to Jane, and my parents praised me for caring about my sister. I offered to sever our mate bond, and Leo praised me for finally being sensible. When I told my son he could call Jane "mommy", he happily said that his new mommy was the best! I transferred all my savings to Jane, and no one seemed to notice anything out of the ordinary. They were just pleased with my "better behavior". "Viola is finally not so bad." I wondered—would they regret it after I was gone?