Betrayed: When My Family Killed Me

These past years, I had been saving to buy a house near the hospital to move out.

Luckily, the hospital was in an old part of town where prices were reasonable.

Working the night shift, I had time during the day to visit houses.

I only had enough savings for a down payment, so I bought a small one-bedroom apartment.

Though small, it was enough for me.

After viewing the house, it was dark. I hurried to the bus stop to go to work.

"Lisa?"

A male voice made me look back. I saw those familiar, lecherous eyes again.

Ethan grinned, his face oily and red. "I heard you work at a hospital?"

I nodded indifferently.

He squinted, his mouth twisted in a greedy smile. "Being a nurse is great! When we get married, we won't have to pay for hospital visits."

I forced a smile, unable to hide my disgust.

Thinking I was shy, he kept bragging about his family's new houses.

I pointed at the approaching bus. "We'll talk later."

I walked away.

Behind me, Ethan raised his voice. "I'll come to discuss our marriage!"

I was organizing patient records when the call from home came.

Amanda's voice was tearful. "Lisa, help Zed!"

I interrupted her sobbing on the phone, "What's wrong with him?"

She choked out. "Zed has a terrible stomachache. He keeps throwing up everything he eats."

It turned out he had food poisoning from eating too much of the red corn.

"Take him to the clinic. It's probably food poisoning," I advised before hanging up.

Without waiting for them to speak, I hung up the phone.

I hoped they would understand the source of the poisoning.

After my night shift, I dragged myself home, exhausted. The house was unusually quiet.

Linda was in the kitchen, still cooking the red corn.

She turned and saw me, her face darkening with displeasure. "Couldn't find you when Zed was in trouble yesterday! Now you dare to come back!"

"Thank god, Zed's fine."

Ignoring her discontent, I asked, "How is Zed?"

Linda was proud. "He's resting. Yesterday, he had some chicken and red corn. With the avian influenza going around, no more chicken for now! My poor boy."

I scoffed, shrugging indifferently. "Yes, no more chicken."

But it wasn't the chicken that was the problem. It was the red corn.

The toxins in moldy corn were dozens of times more potent than arsenic but accumulated slowly.

Mild cases led to diarrhea and food poisoning, but over time, they damage the liver and were carcinogenic.

In my previous life, I didn't even get a chance to explain before they beat me to death.

Now, given the chance, they still didn't listen, clinging stubbornly to the superstition of the red corn's supposed good luck.

The seeds of poison were already sown. I waited to see the outcome.