When I was ten, I threw a tantrum, demanding my brother come home for my birthday. He died in a plane crash that day, his body never recovered. From that moment on, I became a thorn in my parents' side. They resented me for causing his death. Every year on the anniversary, they forced me to kneel at his grave and repent. This went on for eight years. I thought I would spend my life atoning, but on my eighteenth birthday, I was stalked and murdered by a serial killer. Before I died, I tried everything to message my mom for help, but she only scolded me. "I see you just don't want to repent for your brother, lying like this! If you hadn't forced him to come back, my son wouldn't have died. This is the karma you deserve!" She hung up without hesitation. I stared blankly at the dark screen, my will to live suddenly gone. Yeah, what right did a jinx like me have to live? But later, when my brother, dead for eight years, returned with a pregnant wife... And they learned of my death... They all broke down. Chapter 1 On my tenth birthday, I made a fatal mistake. I killed my own brother. I grew up in a happy family. Loving parents, an excellent brother. I was the apple of everyone's eye. But all that was shattered by a single phone call. That day was my birthday. I called my brother, begging him to come home and celebrate with me. As a result, he lost his life. A plane crash. No remains were ever found. Since then, my parents hated me to the bone. More than once, they told me: "Why did you have to force him to come back? Why wasn't it you who died?" In that accident, not only did my brother die, but a part of me died too. Guilt, regret, and my parents' accusations pushed me further into the abyss. I asked myself countless times why I made him come back, why I killed him, why God took him. If I hadn't called him that day, would he still be alive? Unfortunately, there are no "ifs" in this world. And no one was willing to give me an answer. From the age of ten, my life was defined by one word: Atonement. Every year on the anniversary of his death—my birthday—my parents made me go to the cemetery, kneel before his empty grave, and apologize. This kneeling lasted for eight years. Just when I thought my life was withered enough, I was found by the "Rainy Night Butcher" and brutally murdered. Actually, I tried desperately to survive. I took out the stun gun my dad had given me. It was shaped like a cute white sheep keychain. Once, because of Dad's job as a forensic pathologist, he offended some dangerous people. Mom and I were kidnapped. Mom was dragged by a car for meters trying to save me. Dad took a knife to the chest for us. We only survived thanks to the police. After that, Dad gave me this keychain for my safety. It was a high-voltage stun gun. He taught me how to use it and told me: "Dad can't be by your side forever. You must protect yourself." But somehow, when the killer grabbed me and I tried to jam the device into him... It didn't work. I lost my last chance at survival. Even now, I remember everything vividly. Wrench, pliers, axe. Each tool used on me without mercy. My terrified expression was his stimulant. It hurt. It hurt so much I cried, losing control of my bodily functions. I never knew the sound of bones breaking could be so loud, echoing so clearly in my ears. Skin separated from flesh. My vision turned red. I fell into a coma. Chapter 2 When I opened my eyes again, I was a spirit. I was shocked to find myself in the police station. Outside, lightning flashed and thunder rolled. Dad was wearing his work uniform, his eyes full of sorrow. Around him were several young forensic assistants. On the metal table lay a bag of dismembered body parts. This was the corpse bag Captain Xu and his team had struggled to find, the one not washed away by the heavy rain. I never imagined my death would be discovered so quickly. Perhaps God took pity on my pathetic life. A homeless man scavenging for food found the bag. He thought he'd struck gold with a bag of meat. Who knew he would see human fingers? A heavy rain raised the curtain on a brutal dismemberment case. Lightning and thunder raged outside, rain pouring down. The entire police force and K-9 units were searching the city. Captain Xu's face was full of rage. He couldn't control his emotions. The brutal MO was identical to the Rainy Night Butcher from seven or eight years ago. "Old Zhou, don't you think this case looks like the Rainy Night Butcher's handy work?" Dad's face changed. The Rainy Night Butcher was a killer who specifically chose rainy days to strike, delighting in torturing and killing young women. He destroyed countless happy families. Back then, Dad had finally found evidence to arrest him. But the butcher realized it and fled. For revenge, he tampered with the plane my brother was on. Dragging my brother to die in that accident. Neither of their bodies was ever found. So Captain Xu immediately thought of that madman. If he wasn't dead, he would definitely come back for revenge. He couldn't help reminding Dad: "Old Zhou, if it really is him, you must tell your wife and Chloe not to go out. Especially Chloe, she fits his target profile!" But hearing my name, Dad's anxious face instantly turned cold. "She should have died long ago." Hearing that sentence, my heart ached. Yes, I should have died long ago. These eight years were a stolen life. Captain Xu knew about the past. He wanted to comfort Dad but could only frown. Back then, after learning of my brother's death, my parents searched the mountain where the plane crashed for three days and three nights. Finally, with bloodshot eyes, they knelt by the road, begging the heavens to return their son. The pain of losing a child in middle age was something my parents could never get over. Thinking of this, Captain Xu sighed. "Old Zhou, don't think too much. The bureau is pressing hard. The higher-ups are taking this case very seriously!" Dad knew the stakes, so he started working. He carefully took the pieces of flesh out of the bag. But in that instant, he couldn't help cursing. "F*ck his ancestors." "Is this even human?" A young forensic doctor, seeing such a corpse for the first time, also had red eyes. But right now, the most important thing was to identify the victim. After the officers brought back all the body fragments they could find, Dad began to piece together the shape of the body. I floated beside him, watching him spend a day piecing together a skinless torso. I felt somewhat relieved. I knew my death was ugly, and I was worried Dad would be scared if he recognized me. I was also relieved that this life full of guilt was finally over. Captain Xu looked at the red corpse on the table. Even with his years of experience, his face was extremely pale. He asked Dad if the killer did this to destroy evidence or out of pure psychopathy. Dad's face was dark. After a long while, he said hoarsely: "It wasn't to destroy evidence. Our tests show the victim was skinned alive." He clenched his fists, restraining himself. "This was purely to vent anger!" He pointed at my body. "Look, there are even traces of salt corrosion on this body! The killer tortured the victim, cutting off her flesh piece by piece!" Speaking of this, Dad's face was full of unbearable pain. He said sorrowfully: "And this is just a girl between 16 and 20! What kind of hatred could justify this!" Floating beside Dad, I couldn't help but applaud him. He truly was the city's best forensic pathologist, able to accurately determine my cause of death. Captain Xu's eyes grew colder. "What a f*cking psycho! Bastard with no parents!" His chest heaved with anger, then he asked again: "We are currently searching for women aged 16 to 20 who went missing in the last two days, hoping to find the victim's information soon." Chapter 3 Hearing this, Dad seemed to remember something and spoke again. "By the way, the bag where the killer stored the body is missing the right leg bone. It's very likely the victim's leg bone has congenital or acquired injuries, deformities, or surgical marks that could prove her identity." "And because the victim's face was destroyed by acid, facial reconstruction will take time." He sighed and took off his gloves. Beside Dad's hand lay that bloodstained little sheep keychain. Obviously, he had also forgotten that this was the tool he gave me for protection. After finishing the work at hand, Dad glanced at his phone. But upon seeing the content, he furiously called Mom. "Did you see the message from Chloe? That liar, how could she say something like that? I think she did it on purpose to provoke us!" Dad was clearly furious. "Doesn't she know that if she hadn't insisted on her brother coming back, Connor wouldn't have been killed by the Rainy Night Butcher? And now, Chloe actually claims she's being followed!" Watching Dad's face turn red with anger, I felt sad. Dad, I really didn't lie. I really died. How could I use the person who killed my brother to provoke you? How could I do such a thing? I was truly helpless and desperate when I sent that message asking for help. But Dad couldn't see me. Neither could Mom. I heard her on the other end of the phone, equally angry. "I saw her message too. I pretended not to see it. She must be trying to skive off. That damn girl doesn't know how to atone for her sins at all!" I listened to their denunciation of me. Sadly, I covered my ears. Just when I thought they would never know about my death, my best friend, Sarah, rushed into the police station. She said I had been missing for two days. However, just as the officer was about to register the name, Dad stopped them. "No need. Chloe is my daughter. She isn't missing; she's just doing this to threaten me and her mother..." Hearing this, the officer looked at Sarah awkwardly. Knowing Dad's identity, he could only turn away. I watched Sarah leave the station in despair, tears streaming down my face. I wanted to chase after her, but I was bound to Dad. Watching him process my skull, following him home after work. On the dinner table, there were always braised fish, spicy crab, and oil-braised prawns. Mom remembered Brother's favorites but was stingy about remembering my seafood allergy. Once, when Dad asked why I wasn't eating, I thought he was finally going to love me. I gripped my chopsticks, summoning my courage. "Dad, I'm allergic to seafood..." Mom slammed her chopsticks down and pointed at my nose, cursing. "What sin did I commit to give birth to such an ungrateful thing! I worked hard to make a table full of food, and now it's a crime?" I looked helplessly at Dad, the hero who used to stand up for me when I upset Mom. This time, the hero just put a large piece of crab in my bowl. "Eat properly. Don't make your mom angry." Their gazes pressured me, as if not eating would make me a sinner. In the end, that plate of drunken crab went into my stomach. That day, my throat swelled until I could barely breathe, my eyes were so swollen I couldn't see, and my whole body itched and hurt. "Help... help me..." My voice was hoarse. I stumbled to the door, trying to open it, but the handle wouldn't turn. Panic engulfed me. I pounded on the door, trying to make a sound. "Help, help me... Dad, Mom... help me... I don't want to die..." Vaguely, I heard Mom's voice from the living room. "It's just an allergy; she won't die. Good thing I locked the door. She just knows how to act pitiful, disgusting! Last night Connor visited me in a dream and said he wanted the latest game console. Let's go, the mall will close if we're late." No! Mom, Dad, don't leave me! I don't want to die, save me... The living room door slammed shut. I was completely abandoned. Maybe it's better this way. Maybe dying won't hurt so much. I curled up in the corner, waiting for death. From downstairs, the laughter of a father and daughter drifted into my one good ear. "You silly girl, didn't you know you're allergic to peanuts? You ate it anyway, almost lost your life!" "Sorry Dad, I didn't mean to. Don't tell Mom." "Your mom already knows. She twisted her waist in worry but still made a table of your favorite dishes waiting for you. As long as you're okay, how can parents really hold a grudge against their child?" I felt like a sewer rat coveting someone else's happiness, greedily and masochistically peeping at joy that didn't belong to me. In that moment, I felt ashamed, nowhere to hide. I also wanted Mom and Dad to love me, to care about my food allergies, to cook my favorite meals, to nag me with concern. But I was just a bad child who killed her brother, unworthy of love. But Mom, Dad, I don't want to die, I really don't want to die... Chapter 4 I didn't die that day. In the final moments, I jumped out the window and was taken to the hospital by a passerby. The doctor said it was fortunate I arrived in time; any later and my life would have been in danger. The lady in the next bed peeled an orange for her daughter and said to me, "It's good you're okay, otherwise how worried your parents would be!" I looked enviously at the lady feeding her daughter orange segments. My reflection in the glass was lonely and solitary. Comforting myself, and as if announcing to everyone, I laughed loudly, "Yes, Mom and Dad love me very, very much." Suddenly, the ward door was pushed open violently. I saw Mom and Dad rushing towards me. A wave of grievance spread from my heart. Enduring the pain, I struggled to sit up, tears falling like rain. "Dad, Mom..." I was so scared, I was really scared I would die... Would you hug me? Just once, just once is enough... Mom grabbed my collar and yanked me off the hospital bed onto the floor. The IV needle was ripped out, blood spurting. "Damn bitch! Pretending to be pitiful, eating yourself into an allergic state and jumping off a building to make a scene known to everyone! You want to tell the world your dad and I mistreat you, ruining our reputation, right? Why didn't you just die from the jump!" I curled up, holding my head, my body kicked again and again. I didn't mean to hurt Mom and Dad, I just didn't want to die... I won the gamble against the three-story height, but I lost against the depth of my parents' hatred. I saw Dad on the glass reflection, leaning against the wall watching coldly as Mom scratched me with her nails. I saw the lady in the next bed hugging her frightened daughter, coaxing her gently. The crowd gathering at the door looked at me with disdain and contempt, as if I were a vicious child. The illusion of my parents' love I had just mustered the courage to build was torn to shreds in front of everyone. I lied to you all. Mom and Dad don't love me. They... love me the least... After that, my parents cut off my living expenses, and I applied to live at school. Eating one-dollar steamed buns and free vegetable soup in the cafeteria. Sleeping in a sixteen-person dorm on a straw mat with a thin quilt. The accommodation fee of a few hundred dollars used up my scholarship every semester. As I went to middle school and high school, the fees increased. I could only study day and night, hoping to score a few more points each time to win scholarships to sustain my life. I always thought that as long as I became more excellent, Mom and Dad would love me again. The reality was when I went home with a nearly perfect test paper and was praised by visiting relatives, Mom refuted without thinking. "She's dumb as a rock, not even half as smart as Connor, how could she score so well?" Then, her round slap landed on my face. "Speak, who did you copy from?" My face burned with pain, and my heart hurt too, wishing I could disappear. Later, when the homeroom teacher called to confirm my grades, Mom just glanced at the torn test paper in the trash can and curled her lip. "What's there to show off about such a score? Your brother got full marks in every subject back then. Unlike you, so useless, not even ashamed of this score!" Along with that test paper, my heart shattered. Mom and Dad liked smart children like my brother, so I tried hard to erase myself and become like him. I studied even harder. Spring, summer, autumn, winter. Heat rash, chilblains, mosquito bites always found me repeatedly in specific seasons. Walking out of the college entrance exam hall, I finally had the chance to prove I was an excellent child like my brother. Mom and Dad would start loving me, right... But I died on the eve of the results being released. Until death, I couldn't become the excellent child loved by my parents like my brother. I watched my parents fill my brother's empty bowl with rice, silently putting dishes into it. This scene repeated day after day for eight years. Wasn't it me, the one who killed my brother, who made them like this? Did I not deserve to die too? A knock on the door, a voice from memory came. "Mom, Dad, open the door, I brought your daughter-in-law back!" I saw Dad, who was always cautious, stand up and break a bowl. Mom, always vigorous, collapsed in the chair, tears streaming down, asking Dad repeatedly, "Is it him? Is it him?" Dad walked to the door almost with same arm and leg movements, holding the handle for a long time before opening it. The wide-open door revealed a tall man standing outside. I saw him. It was my biological brother whom I had killed for eight years...
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