Bury the Love Full of Lies Forever

As I calculated in my head, the drug I had given Justin to numb his legs had indeed worn off, and an alarm bell went off in my mind.

Seeing his trembling legs eased my tension a bit.

Just as I exhaled a sigh of relief, Justin lunged at me, tackling me to the ground.

"If you think you can drug me and get away with it, I swear I'll ruin your reputation right here in front of them!" he shouted, fueled by misplaced confidence from previous failed attempts.

I closed my eyes for a brief moment, then pulled back my fist and swung it hard. Justin went flying, crashing 6.5 feet away.

The room fell silent.

I leaned back casually in my chair, my voice low and steady. "I didn't want to take such a hard line, but clearly, you all aren't cooperating.

"Now, let's talk about Miranda's death twenty years ago. I want the truth from each of you. If your stories don't line up, well… don't say I didn't warn you."

I gave each of them three minutes to speak, and slowly, they began to reveal what they knew.

That night, twenty years ago, I had been asleep. George, who wasn't even the village chief we know now, was busy preparing candidate materials.

He was by the window, writing under the dim light, when he suddenly heard someone wailing outside.

Curious, he peeked out and saw Miranda running for her life, glancing back in sheer terror.

Behind her was a shadowy figure, chasing her like a cheetah on the hunt.

Startled, George hesitated but ultimately decided to help.

However, by the time he stepped outside, he saw the figure wrap a rope around Miranda's neck and strangle her.

I could only imagine how horrified he felt as he watched my mother struggle before her body went limp, silent at last.

Once the coast was clear, George, trembling with fear, stumbled out into the night to drag Miranda's lifeless body away.

He called Marvin and Logan to help him bury her.

As for the shadowy figure, they had no idea who it was—just some passerby like Justin.

George explained that he didn't want me to suffer from the truth, so he spread the story that Miranda had fallen off a cliff.

One by one, they recounted their parts: how they moved her body, how they buried her.

After a long silence, they couldn't help but sneak glances at my reaction.

I raised my hands and started to clap slowly. "What a beautifully flawed tale."

After Miranda's death, George had Bruce Cooper and his family move into my house, and I was shoved into a doghouse, living a life that felt less than human.

It wasn't until I turned eighteen that they finally thought I was useful enough to let me out of my shackles.

The villagers descended on me like a pack of ravenous hyenas.

I remembered the chaos as I fought back, using everything I had.

Their screams filled the air as I drove Bruce and his family out and set fire to George's barn.

For years, I repaid every slight they had inflicted upon me.

And just like that, I was branded the villain.

Now, they were scared and trying to twist the narrative to fit their story.

They thought they could rewrite the past? In their dreams.