After I Was Devastated, They Regretted it

I was falsely accused of murder following the death of my elder sister, Nicole Johnson, who committed suicide.

My beloved younger brother, Isaac Johnson, who had always cared about me, gouged out my left eye. Adding to the pain, my fiancé, Rhett Barone, sent me to prison.

After a decade behind bars, I finally regained my freedom.

Nicole came to apologize to me with Rhett.

I smiled and forgave them, then pleaded for mercy from them.

As I received the devastating news that my time was limited to a mere three months, Isaac and Rhett approached me with tear-filled eyes.

But I didn't want anyone anymore.

I relied on the support of trees and guided myself by touching the wall as I walked out of the prison.

Throughout the year, my left eye remained vacant, partially obscured by a thin layer of gauze, while my right eye could only perceive faint remnants of images.

While walking cautiously, I suddenly found myself blocked by a tall shadow.

I heard the person ask, "Abigail, what's the act this time?"

In an instant, my body shook violently as if it were a reflex.

The person's voice was clear and pleasant, yet it sent shivers down my spine.

The voice belonged to my younger brother, Isaac, the one who had gouged out my left eye.

Isaac let out a chilling chuckle as he curiously lifted the gauze covering my left eye and blew air into the empty socket.

"I did so well back then. I gouged it so cleanly," he said proudly.

Protecting my remaining right eye, I pressed myself against the wall, yearning to meld into its surface.

Don't touch me! Don't gouge my eyes out!

With a contemptuous sneer, he forcefully dragged me into the car.

"Why are you shaking? Who are you pretending to be pitiful for? Just live in my house from now on. I will take care of you."

Take care of me? I bit my lip until it bled, still feeling the pain of having my eyeball forcibly gouged out.

Ten years ago, he gouged out my left eye with a pencil in prison in the name of taking care of me.

At that time, he threw my eyeball into the gutter in disgust, muttering, "It stinks. How can someone like you be my sister?"

Overwhelmed by the pain, I clawed at the cracks in the floor until I lost consciousness. Unfortunately, no one came to my rescue.

When I woke up again, I found that my initial five-year sentence had inexplicably been extended to ten years.

I couldn't bear his care any longer.

As soon as Isaac parked the car, I hastily pushed the door open to escape. However, I fell flat on my face, and my arms were bleeding from the friction.

"What's the rush? You're still as troublesome as ever."

Isaac's tone carried a mixture of disdain and a hint of doting, reminiscent of the helpless tone he used to have when I playfully snatched his snacks as children.

My heart ached as if it were empty. However, I quickly suppressed the pain out of habit.

Isaac took me to his shared apartment.

The air hung heavy with a sour odor. The dusty floor, when stepped upon, left behind distinct footprints.

It had been ten years, and he must have squandered all of our parents' inheritance.

My hand touched a sock, and I immediately straightened up stiffly.

During the initial three years of my imprisonment, I had smelly socks stuffed into my mouth every day. Those people took pleasure in seeing tears and mucus all over my face.

At first, I would resist and vomit, but as time wore on, I grew numb, deprived of the strength to vomit.

After all, each time I vomited, I would have to starve for three days, and in the end, I would have to lie on the floor like a dog and lick the smelly oatmeal.

Isaac placed a plate of spaghetti in front of me, and I instinctively placed my hands on my legs, waiting for his order.

I didn't know what had provoked his anger, but Isaac abruptly flung the plate of spaghetti onto the floor.

"You hate me, don't you? Then kneel down on the floor and finish all the spaghetti," he commanded.

Quivering with fear, I didn't hesitate for a moment. I crawled on the floor and began eating the scattered spaghetti.

I must be obedient! Only by being obedient could I avoid being beaten and starving.

I must consume every bit of the spaghetti. Only by meeting all of his demands would he let me go and not gouge out my eyes!

Taking a breath, he lifted me off the ground and tossed me onto the sofa. He asked harshly, "Abigail, how much longer will you continue this charade? I just gouged out one of your eyes. Why do you still think about it? Talk to me."

I wiped the food scraps from the corners of my mouth and replied tremblingly, "I don't think about it anymore. I've gotten over it."

He tightly clenched my wrist, his breathing becoming rapid as if he was struggling to contain his anger.

How strange! I spoke as he wished, but why was he still angry?

The doorbell suddenly rang, jolting Isaac. He nervously pushed me into the room.

"Don't make a sound! Otherwise, I won't let you go!" he warned.

His voice carried a mix of anxiety and delight.

"Nicole, why are you here?"

A jolt of disbelief surged through me, rendering my body rigid as if struck by lightning.

Nicole? Didn't she die a long time ago?

"We didn't see Abigail. Did you hide her?" came a young and gentle female voice.

Isaac said nonchalantly, "Why would I? She is so selfish and vicious. She probably went out to have lavish meals and drinks!"

Nicole sighed. "I should have visited her in prison sooner."

"Is she the kind of person who can make herself suffer? She must have enjoyed herself in prison! You're pregnant and need to take care of yourself. We don't need to worry about her."

A cold male voice sounded. "Nicole, Abigail is selfish, and she deserves it. Our priority is to protect our child. Leave Isaac and me to handle finding her."

My fiancé, Rhett, was here, too? The memory of his last words to me in court echoed in my mind. "You deserve it," he said.

I understood now. Despite Nicole being alive and well, they would send me to prison.

An intense pain gripped my heart, swiftly spreading throughout my body, yet I found myself unable to shed a single tear.

No matter how stupid I was, I could figure it out in ten years.

The moment I confirmed the truth, I let go of my obsession.

Nicole came back from the dead and had a child with my fiancé.

They would be a happy family.

What did that make me?