I was raped and murdered on my way back home on the day of my stepsister and my ex-boyfriend's wedding, shortly after being ordered to return by my mother.

As the murderer approached me, I frantically called out to my mother for help.

However, upon answering the phone, she mistook my plea for help as a threat and angrily hung up, shouting, "Adeline, I'm telling you. Even if you have to die, you must attend the wedding!"

However, I didn't show up until the end of the wedding. Despite the presence of other guests, my mother criticized me without any consideration.

Later, the police called and asked her to go and identify the body.

While preparing for dinner, she just nonchalantly replied, "Alright."

I yelled, "Mom, Clyde, help me.

"Dad, I'm in pain. It really hurts."

The man seemed to derive pleasure, riding on me with increasing intensity, while the hands around my neck tightened relentlessly.

I cried out and pleaded with him, begging him to release me.

However, I heard him say, "Stop crying. I fucking hate women crying."

He reached into his pocket and retrieved a switchblade.

As I desperately pleaded, the gleam of the blade cast a menacing shadow, causing me to lose both my sight and my voice.

A chilling breeze passed through my sightless eyes, carrying with it a profound sense of coldness.

"Now, you won't cry anymore, huh?" said he.

I couldn't discern whether I perished from the unbearable pain or the profuse loss of blood.

People said that before one's demise, their subconscious mind would conjure up a myriad of beautiful moments.

As my consciousness drifted, it took me back to a time before I turned five years old. At that moment, I vividly saw my father, the person who meant the world to me. He had showered me with boundless love throughout my life.

Regrettably, this cherished bond lasted only for a fleeting five years. Since then, I had not experienced unwavering devotion from anyone else.

Before my father passed away, I cried so hard that I almost fainted. With his cold yet comforting hands, he gently caressed my face and whispered lovingly, "Delia, don't be afraid. Your mom and brother will love you on my behalf in the future."

But Dad, you were wrong.

My mother and brother didn't love me at all. They wished I were dead.

Actually, I knew from a very young age that my mother and brother, Clyde Watts, did not like me at all.

Every time my mother prepared a meal, she always catered to Clyde's preferences.

Clyde loved to eat beef and broccoli, so my mother prepared this dish every day.

However, he hated broccoli, so he would often give it to me.

Once, unable to resist, I ate a bit of the beef. When my mother discovered this, she struck my palm forcefully with a spoon, causing it to turn red.

With teary red eyes, I dared not cry aloud and instead whispered to her, "Mom, I didn't eat much. Just a little."

Frowning, my mother scolded in disgust, "Are you that starving? You have to eat this much?"

Even as a young child, I had a faint awareness that my mother didn't seem to love me.

As time went on, I gradually confirmed the notion and gained a clearer understanding of the situation.

Just like now, when I desperately called my mother for help, she responded with curses and mercilessly hung up the phone.

She sapped, "Adeline, I'm telling you. Even if you have to die, you must attend the wedding!

"I simply asked you to take 200,000 dollars as a wedding gift. Don't act like I'm asking for your life."

As the phone call was about to end, I heard Clyde's gentle voice comforting my mother, saying, "Mom, don't be angry. It's not worth getting upset over that jinx Adeline."

Over the years, I had heard this sentence repeated countless times, not only from Clyde but also from my mother.

They called me a jinx because on the day I was born, my mother wanted to eat sandwiches, and my grandfather went out to buy some. Tragically, he was hit by a large truck that ran a red light and died on the spot.

Devastated by the loss, my mother delivered me that night when I was still a premature baby.

She placed the entire blame on me, stubbornly believing that my birth was the cause of my grandfather's death and her loss of a father.

As a result, she punished me by depriving me of a mother's love from the very moment I entered this world.

But Mom, if my birth was a sin, why did you choose to bring me into the world?

I floated in the air, watching as the blade descended towards my neck, each strike unleashing a dazzling spray of vibrant red blood.

In this bloody feast where only the murderer was reveling, I actually felt a sense of relief.

Dad, I was finally coming to see you.

I waited for a long time, but no one came to pick me up.

Instead, the phone left in the haystack lit up again. It was a message from Clyde.

[Adeline, can you not be so willful and selfish? You know that Mom is in poor health, but you still threatened her with death.]

[I'm asking you to come back and attend the wedding immediately. Do you have to be like this for a man? Besides, Lilith is your sister, and Dorian is going to be your brother-in-law. Isn't he also your family?]

Upon reading the last sentence, I really wanted to confront Clyde and question him, "Clyde, do you believe this?"

To Clyde and my mother, Lilith was a good sister and a good daughter.

However, to me, regardless of whether she had stolen Dorian from me or not, she would never be my sister.

In grief, my soul was torn apart by an overwhelming force.

I felt myself uncontrollably running through the woods and across the fields.

I witnessed the train hurtling through vast distances, traversing thousands of miles, and saw the chaotic traffic on the sun-drenched roads, filled with hustle and bustle.

In the end, I saw my mother tenderly holding Lilith's hand in a wedding preparation room at the hotel, imparting patient instructions to her.

I was back.

Unexpectedly, after my death, I returned to this home.

In a different form, I attended the wedding of Lilith Klein and Dorian Gray.

During the wedding, the band played joyful wedding melodies, and the guests raised their glasses in celebration.

In the wedding preparation room, Lilith, with delicate makeup, sat in a chair, leaning in Dorian's arms, tears glistening at the corners of her eyes.

"Mom, hasn't Adeline arrived yet? Is she still holding a grudge against me? Today is the most important day for Dorian and me. I truly hope to get Adeline's blessing. I don't want to have any regrets on my wedding."

My mother wore a cold expression, appearing displeased. Before she could utter a word, Clyde clenched their teeth and interjected, "She doesn't regard us as a family at all. Mom and I called and messaged her, but she didn't answer or reply. She is so selfish that she even disregarded Lilith's wedding."

Dorian smiled and kissed Lilith on the cheek, but when he mentioned me, his face darkened.

He said, "Lilith, leave her. Adeline does not deserve to attend our wedding. It would only disgust me.

"Don't cry. Today is your day, and you shouldn't let someone unworthy upset you, or it will break my heart."

Lilith wrapped her arms around Dorian's neck and lifted her lovely face, feigning a deep sadness.

"No matter how difficult she may be, she is my sister. As her sister, I should try to be patient with her," Lilith expressed.

This feigned expression resembled the time when I introduced Dorian to my family, and she unreasonably demanded that I give him up to her.

A year ago, I brought Dorian home to visit my parents with the intention of discussing our marriage.

I still remembered the look in Lilith's eyes when she first saw Dorian - a mixture of astonishment and unwavering determination.

Lilith instantly fell in love with Dorian, so when the dinner was almost over, she made an excuse to pull me aside for a private conversation.

Leaning on the lounge chair outside, she held my hand, maintaining a smile on her face even as she made that unreasonable request.

"Adeline, please give Dorian to me! I have always gotten what I wanted over the years, so Adeline, you don't want to suffer, right?" Lilith pleaded.

In the past, I always yielded to her desires as long as it was something she liked.

It was not due to my excessive kindness but rather because I felt trapped with no other options. Even when I resisted, my mother always defended Lilith and punished me in order to maintain her reputation as a good stepmother.

The most severe punishment I endured was when my mother made me kneel in heavy rain for half the night.

It was simply because Lilith threw the flowers, I had intended to give to my mother into the trash can, and I couldn't help but push her.

Amid Lilith's aggrieved cry, my mother forced me to apologize, but Mom, I had done nothing wrong.

If there was any wrongdoing on my part, it was simply being born into this world. Perhaps I should have died alongside my father in that fire.

Driven by my deep love for Dorian, I decided to fight for myself once more.

So, I rejected Lilith.

Everything went as usual in the next few days, and I naively thought that I had kept my happiness.

Unexpectedly, the day after Dorian and I left home, he proposed breaking up with me.

It was snowing heavily that day. I kept asking him why. However, exhausted by my persistent inquiries, he threw me into the snow.

The gravel hidden in the snow pierced into the palm of my hand, staining it with blood.

Dorian looked at me with disgust. "Are you still trying to lie to me? Your family didn't want me to be miserable, so they kindly told me how terrible you are."

It turned out that my mother and Clyde had told Dorian a lot of "truths" about me behind my back.

They accused me of being morally corrupt, of stealing money from classmates, of bullying Lilith, and of killing my own father for selfish motives.

At the end of her speech, my mother was so sad that she cried.

"Dorian, you are a very good person, and I really don't want to watch you suffer against my conscience," my mother conveyed.

As the burning pain in my palms abruptly subsided, I lifted my gaze to meet Dorian's eyes and listened as he relayed those false "truths" about me.

A tear escaped the corner of my eye, and I suddenly laughed.

He frowned and asked, "Aren't they right?"

Rising from the ground, I faced him with a smile. "Don't you know what kind of person I am? If a relationship can be so easily swayed by the words of others, then perhaps it's better not to have it."

I didn't expect that, for Lilith, my loved ones would frame me in such a malicious way.

When I was alive, no one cared about me.

Of course, no one would care after I died.

Lilith and Dorian's wedding was grand.

On the stage, my stepfather, Rayden Klein, and my mother repeatedly gave tearful reminders to Lilith while Clyde made jokes about Dorian's threats, creating a seemingly warm atmosphere.

The audience below the stage erupted in constant applause.

My soul drifted in the opposite direction, observing all of this in a daze.

Strangely, I didn't feel any pain at all.

Perhaps I should thank that murderer for his actions had numbed my broken heart, making it no longer unable to bear any pain.

With the wedding successfully concluded, Rayden and my mother saw off the remaining relatives.

As they were preparing to leave, a relative couldn't help but inquire, "Why is Adeline not present on such a joyous day?"

I saw my mother’s smile instantly vanish.

She explained, "Adeline was unhappy upon hearing that she was expected to give tens of thousands of dollars as a wedding gift. Clyde and I called her many times, but she just refused to come.

"She cares too much about money and even neglects her own family."

Belittling me seemed to have become my mother's subconscious habit.

What she asked me for wasn't just ten thousand dollars! It was two hundred thousand dollars!

These two hundred thousand dollars represented all the savings I had diligently accumulated over many years of hard work.

They all had a home, but I didn't.

So I wanted to use this money to buy a small house for myself in the city where I worked.

However, my mother asked me to give the money to Lilith to win herself a good reputation.

There was no way I would give this money to a demon who had ruined my life.

Why did you always have to sacrifice me, Mom? I was your own daughter!

The relative's face turned embarrassed, and she responded with empathy, "Sometimes, you have to be tough on her. Otherwise, she might believe she can do as she pleases without any consequences."

Due to my mother frequently speaking negatively about me, I was perceived as a misbehaved child in the eyes of my relatives.

I had gained a rather notorious reputation.

Actually, when my father was still alive and I was younger than five years old, his relatives were quite nice to me.

During Clyde's childhood, his playful nature led to an unfortunate incident where he accidentally caused a fire while playing with fire at home.

Tragically, my father died in the fire while trying to save Clyde and me who was sleeping in the room.

Later, in order to conceal the truth and protect Clyde, my mother asserted to everyone, "It was Adeline who insisted on playing with fire at home, resulting in the house catching fire. Kareem died because of saving her."

In tears, I desperately tried to defend myself, but no one would believe a five-year-old child.

They naturally assumed that I had chosen to lie in order to avoid accountability.

No one would question what my mother said, and everyone agreed that I was responsible for my father's death.

Since then, my mother might have felt a little guilty towards me, but this guilt did not last long.

Living as a woman with two children was undoubtedly challenging.

So, the hardships of life soon diminished the trace of guilt she carried.

On an ordinary evening, as I made my way to the bathroom, I unexpectedly saw my mother sitting on the balcony, silently shedding tears.

I ran over and hugged her from behind, hoping to provide some comfort.

However, in the next moment, she abruptly threw me to the floor and grabbed the nearby mop from the balcony, repeatedly striking me with it.

As the stick struck me, my mother's voice resonated with hysteria and resentment, piercing my heart with each word.

"It's all your fault. You were the one who caused your grandfather's death, and now Clyde has lost his father because of you. Why wasn't you the one who died? Why wasn't you!" she screamed.

I clutched onto myself, seeking solace but finding nowhere to hide. I dared not even utter a cry out loud.

No one would care about me anymore.

That was the case at that time.

A similar feeling of helplessness engulfed me when that man was strangling and assaulting me in the woods.