The Day My Boyfriend was About to Propose to Me, I Died

My parents ran a slaughterhouse and had worked diligently and selflessly their entire lives. However, these two honest people, pushed someone into a shredder without hesitation, to help their adopted son who had committed murder erasing evidence. They blamed me for not selling the house to pay off my brother's debts. If we hadn't been pushed to such a desperate situation, my brother would never have ended up like this.

But they didn’t know that the girl they had cruelly shredded beyond recognition was their own daughter. When they learned the truth, they went insane.

——

I died on the day my boyfriend was planning to propose to me. It was also my birthday. I had just returned from a business trip and received a call from my brother as soon as I got off the plane, saying he wanted to talk to me in person. I replied curtly, "If it’s still about the house, there’s nothing to discuss. I won’t agree."

"Zora, Mom and Dad treated me like their own son; I’m your brother!" he said harshly. "Even if I’m adopted, all the family property belongs to me, including the house you’re living in!"

“That’s a house I bought myself. It has nothing to do with you!” I yelled angrily. “Mom and Dad used all their savings to help you pay off your debts!”

“That’s what they should do!”

My brother was a gambling addict. He sold off the family’s property to fund his gambling, forcing my sister-in-law to divorce him. Even then, he showed no remorse and set his sights on my house, wanting me to sell it to pay off his debts. He and I had fought about this many times, even causing a scene at my workplace.

I was extremely angry at his comments and was about to hang up the phone when he suddenly said, "Today is your birthday. I’m stuck at a friend’s place in the suburbs, but I bought you a gift. Come and pick it up."

I was surprised that he still remembered my birthday. Feeling a bit guilty for my unfounded accusations, I hurried to the address he had given me. It turned out to be an abandoned warehouse. Before stepping in, I hesitated but then laughed at myself for being too suspicious.

However, I overlooked the fact that he was not only my brother but also a ruthless gambler. The "birthday gift" he had for me was a hammer, which he intended to use to strike me without mercy.

The piercing pain made me shiver. Driven by my will to survive, I desperately crawled towards the door, but was pulled back by my hair. Again and again, until I became silent.

As my soul ascended, I looked at my disfigured body, trying to reach out, but unable to penetrate.

I died, brutally murdered by my brother whom I had lived with for 20 years.

This kind of plot only appeared in TV dramas, but now it happened to me.

I angrily confronted him, but he was completely oblivious. Panting, he stopped and muttered, "You forced me. It's all your fault. Zora, as long as you're dead, everything in the house will be mine!"

He seemed to have made up his mind and he aimed the hammer at my face and hit it hard.

I watched him hit me in the face again and again until I was unrecognizable. He then hurriedly put me into a sack and drove to my parents' slaughterhouse.

He killed me and he dared to take me home?

I couldn't believe it and at the same time I felt a little uneasy.