My Sister Faked Her Death and Returned After I Died

My body was sent to the autopsy room. Mom put on a mask and began the examination. Her assistant suddenly asked her, "Hey, it’s almost New Year. Has Scott still not come back? It’s been two years."

My parents framed me and sent me to prison two years ago. They kept this secret from everyone, only telling them that I had gone to work in another city.

When Mom heard my name, a look of disgust immediately flashed across her eyes. "Don’t mention her. She disgusts me.” She and Dad hated me deeply because they believed I killed my sister. I will never forget how my life changed after my sister left.

At the start, they kept me from school before sending me to work at a construction site. When I came back, they made me eat scraps meant for the dog at the doorstep. I cried as I ate, feeling nothing but grievance in my heart.

"Does it hurt?” Mom had taunted. “But did you suffer as much as your sister did? She was burned alive in that fire! She was only 19, and in the prime of her life!"

Dad was standing beside her, equally furious. "Scott, if you hadn’t insisted on going out to buy figurines, your sister wouldn’t have died. I wish it was you who had died back then!"

They both wished for my death, but could not kill me themselves. As such, they framed me and sent me to prison. In the two years I was there, they never visited me once. Now, I’m finally dead. I wonder if they will finally be happy now.

"What is this?"

The assistant took a half-burned safety charm from my palm. It was a safety charm I had carried with me since I was little. After being thrown into the fire earlier, I held onto it tightly, hoping to protect it. Still, it got burned.

Mom took a glance at it and then set it aside. "It must be something important to the deceased. It must be why the deceased held it so tightly in their palm.”

A cold chill ran through my soul. I could not believe Mom did not recognize the safety charm she had made for me with her own two hands.

Mom flipped my body over and began carefully examining my remains. My abdomen was free of burns, but fragments of my clothes clung to it. They were the clothes I had worn when I entered prison. I remember Mom had bought them for me.

She had told me then, "We’re cutting ties with you from now on. This is the last time I’ll buy you clothes." I was 19 years old then, and had just been accepted into a prestigious university. I had a bright future ahead of me, but they destroyed it.

Mom still did not recognize that the clothes were mine as she used tweezers to move the fragments aside. Then she examined me and reported, "The deceased was likely between 19 to 22 years old and male. It appears that he has previously undergone surgery on the skull, as there is a hole."

Mom and Dad had been the ones who gave me that hole. At that time, my sister had just passed away. I felt very guilty and wanted to look at a photo of her. I went into her room looking for a photo, but was discovered. Dad slapped me across the face. “You have no right to be here!”

Mom also hit me hard, and she even bit my arm. “You beast! How dare you taint my daughter’s room!”

“Mom! Dad! I just want to look at a photo of Selene!” I cried as I endured the pain.

Dad still would not let me in. He said that I killed Selene and that she did not want to see me.

I was missing her so badly the next day that I snuck into her room. I did not expect to see Mom in there, hugging her clothes and crying. She screeched, grabbed a baseball bat and hit me. Dad had rushed in to help her, ugly words leaving their mouths nonstop. They said I deserved to die, that I was an animal, and that I was worthless trash.

In the end, Dad got so mad that he hit my head with the bat. My skull cracked, the blow splitting the hard cranium.