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

To protect their murderous adopted son, two seemingly honest slaughterhouse owners make a horrific choice: they destroy a victim's body in a shredder to erase the evidence. They blamed their biological daughter for the family's ruin, resentful that she refused to sell her house to clear her brother's debts. But their desperation blinds them to a sickening reality. The unrecognizable girl they ruthlessly destroyed was actually their own flesh and blood—a devastating truth that drives them to absolute madness.

Chapters

Chapter 2

It was already dark. He dragged me into the house in a sack and knelt down immediately, saying in a trembling voice, "Dad, Mom, I’ve killed someone."

My mom was so scared that she fell to the ground and cried. She scolded him for being useless and only knowing how to cause trouble for the family.

My dad slapped my brother in the face and shouted angrily, "It's okay to gamble, but you, a beast, actually dared to kill someone?!"

My mom rushed over to stop him, "Why did you hit him? Think about what to do now!"

"What else can I do!"

My father, shaking with anger, said, "Call the police! Have him turn himself in!"

My mother, wide-eyed and shouting, retorted, "Are you trying to kill us? Mason is still so young. Are you trying to ruin his life?"

My brother, kneeling on the ground, cried bitterly, "Dad, Mom, I don't want to go to prison. I don't want to die."

He continued, "Zora is just a girl; she’ll get married eventually. She won’t even sell her house to help us. She’s ungrateful! Now I'm in this situation and she doesn't care. What will you do when you're old and can’t work anymore? Can you rely on her then?"

I was shaking with anger at his words. Since I started working, I had been sending money home every month. From big things like furniture and appliances to small things like sending and receiving packages, I was almost always the one taking care of it. Later, because he frequently asked for money due to gambling, my dad stopped accepting my money and told me to save it for myself.

How did it turn into me not caring about the family in his words? My mom went up to pull him away, crying uncontrollably and repeatedly saying, "Mason is my son. No one can take him away from me. If you make him turn himself in, you’re pushing him into a fire pit!"

My dad was furious, shouting, "It’s all because you spoiled him! He’s committed murder!"

"Don’t you know what kind of child he is?" My mom cried out in despair, "If we don’t take responsibility as parents, his whole life is ruined!"

My dad fell silent. In the quiet, the only sound was my mom’s sobs. After a long time, my dad finally spoke, his voice trembling. "Stop crying. Drag the body into the workroom."

I was stunned, feeling like I had fallen into an ice cave. The workroom in the slaughterhouse was where animal carcasses were processed. Was my dad planning to handle me in the same way?

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