
After I Died, My Father Knelt in Front of My Grave to Apologize
Chapter 1
When I was being abused, Dad was celebrating the birthday of Yuki Jones, my elder sister.
Before I died, I tried my best to find my phone and called Dad, but he hung up. Then, I called him three times before he picked up.
Before I could speak, I heard Dad's disgusted and angry voice. "Don't you know that today is Yuki's birthday? Stop calling. I'm busy!"
I suddenly felt hopeless. After the call was hung up, I stopped struggling, and the criminal cut me with the knife.
Early the next morning, Dad was asked to go to the police station.
There was an extremely cruel murder case, and he needed to perform an autopsy.
***
The murderer chopped my corpse into several pieces. Then, he put them into a black garbage bag and threw it next to a trash can. The bag was found by a boy walking his dog. His dog tore the bag, and then it held my hand in its mouth to show the boy off.
The boy was so scared that he collapsed on the ground.
He called the police, and the police quickly arrived at the scene and set up a cordon.
Several police officers searched all nearby trash cans but couldn't find my head. They had to take the body parts back to the police station to piece them together.
I was floating in the air and saw Dad get dressed, take my body parts out of the plastic bag, and start putting them together.
During the piecing together process, Max, who was Dad's apprentice, ran away several times with his mouth covered because he couldn't stand this bloody scene.
Dad also frowned and remained silent the whole time.
The corpse was completely pieced together, with all parts remaining except the head.
"Judging from the marks on the victim's body, the criminal must have intended to torture the victim to death..."
"The nails were all pulled out one by one. This must be a revenge killing..."
"What hatred or grudge made the criminal commit such a cruel act..."
"It's too cruel..."
The experienced police officers all frowned at my corpse, and the younger ones didn't even dare to look directly at it.
Dad took off his forensic suit, washed his hands, and then stood in front of my corpse. He frowned all the time.
I was floating in the air and looking at Dad's expression. "You must have recognized me. After all, although my corpse is covered with wounds, the birthmark on my thigh is clear and conspicuous."