Three Years After My Death, My Whole Family Wanted To Slap Me in The Face in a Live Stream

"I was called evil by everyone. I had nowhere else to go."

My desperate voice echoed out through the rabbit toy.

[Serves you right. If you dared to poison someone, you should've expected this day to come!]

"I just wanted to go back and retrieve my medical records," I cried. "But I was knocked out by a group of drunk men. When I woke up, the records were gone... and I had been humiliated by those men."

My voice trembled.

"Some kind strangers called the police... but when they arrived, the men claimed I’d done it willingly—that I could just pay them and everything would be fine."

My breath caught in the recording.

"Afterward... bills started showing up under my bed. Real money. Like I had agreed to it."

There was a brief pause before I continued, voice cracking.

"Mom and Dad called me shameless. My brother told me to stop making excuses for my disgusting behavior."

The rabbit played back his cold, cutting words.

"If you can't survive on your own, then go die. Just don't bring shame to the Meyer Family."

"Do I really deserve to die?"

The recording cut off abruptly.

Jack tapped the rabbit again, but there was no more sound. It had gone silent.

[If she was assaulted, where did all those bottles, the condoms and the money come from, huh?]

[Wow, almost killed her own father and still had the nerve to come back here and mess around with men?]

[Bet she made up the abuse story to cover her tracks! Probably stole money, then staged a fake suicide to escape the consequences. Left behind a pity recording and now she's trying to curse her family too?]

[Drag her out and throw her in jail already!]

One comment after another filled the live chat. Sentence by sentence, they built a perfect case to crucify me, erasing any trace of truth.

Jack stood still, brows furrowed in deep thought. Something wasn’t adding up. He could feel it in his gut.

He turned, slowly and then noticed something odd.

A drop of water slid down the mirror behind him.

A single tear-like trail.

But the weather was dry. There shouldn’t have been any moisture.

He looked up.

More drops. From the ceiling.

His eyes widened in alarm. "Something’s wrong with the ceiling," he muttered. "I need to check it out."

He pulled a hammer from his bag and smashed it down along the crack where the water was seeping through.

The ceiling burst open with a single blow.

Something heavy fell through.

Jack instinctively shielded himself with the rabbit toy—and the object thudded to the floor.

[Crap! That’s... that’s an urn?!]

[Why is there talisman paper wrapped around it? This is creepy as hell!]

Jack slowly picked up the small altar urn. The yellowing talisman pasted to it bore strange markings. He brought it close to the camera, showing the symbols to the viewers.

Mom caught a glimpse and her face went sheet-white.

"This... this is Anna’s birth date!"

My brother and dad stared in stunned disbelief, jaws slack.

Just then, the rabbit—which had just been struck by the falling urn—lit up again.

A mocking laugh echoed from within. Jesica’s smug, sugar-sweet voice flowed out.