Revenge: After Daughter Commits Suicide By Jumping Off Building

My five-year-old daughter committed suicide by jumping off a building at school.

I wasn’t in a hurry, but her homeroom teacher was in a frantic state. She kept calling and texting, telling me my daughter was dead and urging me to rush to the school. I calmly turned off my phone and continued watching movies and dramas.

In my past life, when I received the teacher’s call, I had rushed to the school in a frenzy, only to be met with my daughter’s lifeless body.

The teacher insisted that my daughter had cried before her death, claiming she told them I had been beating her for a long time.

She couldn't bear it any longer and chose to end her life by jumping.

Even my husband accused me of constantly abusing our daughter at home.

Yet I had always adored her, never even wanting to speak a harsh word to her.

I had never laid a hand on her.

Amidst everyone’s suspicions, the coroner gently lifted my daughter’s clothing.

Upon seeing the numerous scars that had accumulated over the years on my daughter’s body, the coroner concluded that she had endured long-term abuse.

I was at a loss for words and became the infamous “evil mother,” a murderer in everyone’s eyes.

As a result, my parents faced relentless online harassment, their company went bankrupt and they tragically died at home.

I, too, was thrown into prison, where I was beaten to death.

Even in death, I couldn't comprehend how my daughter, whom I had raised with such love, could have been so hurt that she felt compelled to jump from a building.

When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day of my daughter’s suicide.

——

“Wife, come eat breakfast! I made some dishes I specially learned just for you.”

Argon Morgan, as always, gently set the breakfast in front of me.

Gazing at his ever-gentle smile, I trembled all over.

Argon had always been a devoted son-in-law, caring for me and my daughter since the day we married.

For so many years, he had been attentive to every detail, making sure my daughter and I wanted for nothing.

My sisters all praised me for finding such a gentle and remarkable man and I had believed them.

Suppose it hadn’t been for my past life, where he publicly accused me of being a long-term abuser of our daughter. In that case, I might never have discovered that the usually refined Argon had such a twisted side.

“Wife, what are you daydreaming about? Come eat!” Argon said, waving his hand in front of me.

I pushed aside my confusion and indignation and then took a seat at the dining table.

When I glanced at my daughter, who was sipping milk across from me, my eyes instantly filled with tears.

It was the day of her tragedy.

After finishing breakfast, my daughter would go to school and then take her own life.

When I arrived at the school, I found her lifeless body.

I held my daughter's cold form, crying until I felt like I might faint.

But the homeroom teacher pointed at me, insisting I didn’t need to pretend.

I was bewildered.

With righteous indignation, she claimed my daughter had jumped because of the long-term domestic violence I had inflicted on her.

She said my daughter had once confessed she would rather die than return home.

Just as I was confronting the teacher, Argon rushed over from our house.

I hoped he would clear my name, but with red eyes, he publicly scolded me instead.

“From the moment I became part of your family, you either hit or scolded me, never treating me like a human,” he said.

“For our daughter, I endured it all.”

“I told you I could handle how you treated me, but why did you have to treat our daughter like this?”

“I’ve begged you countless times. Why do you keep pushing her toward death?!”

Argon’s words were filled with heartbreak and tears as he publicly accused me of various “abuses.” He painted me as a woman who took pleasure in hurting others.

The contemptuous shouts from everyone drowned out my desperate explanations.

It wasn’t until the coroner arrived to examine my daughter’s body that the numerous scars on her skin were revealed. Fresh wounds and old scars covered her entire body. The coroner quickly concluded that these injuries could only have been the result of long-term abuse.

“A tiger doesn’t eat its cubs; this woman is worse than a beast!”

“She doesn’t deserve a husband or children, let alone to live!”

“Her daughter was so pitiful, caught in the web of such an inhumane woman!”

“Allowing someone like her to live, even for a second, pollutes the earth!”

The evidence was overwhelming and insults rained down upon me.

Some even threw garbage and stones, wishing they could kill me on the spot.

Amidst the cacophony of shouts, I was handcuffed and taken to the police station.

In an instant, terms like “evil mother,” “venomous woman,” and “pitiful father-daughter pair” topped the trending searches.

Netizens unleashed their most vicious insults and curses upon me.

My parents also faced the backlash, with their information leaked and their company collapsing.

They were trapped at home, unable to step outside; whenever they did, they were splattered with excrement, insulted and even had wreaths thrown at them.

Eventually, they tragically died in their home and no one bothered to handle their bodies, even as they began to decompose.

As for me, I was brutally tortured to death by fellow inmates in prison.

Even in death, I couldn’t grasp why my cherished daughter would choose to jump from a building, her body covered in injuries.

The pain of my past life remained vivid in my memory.

In this life, I was determined to uncover the truth.