Hinovel
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Summary
When I was ten, I insisted that my brother come back to celebrate my birthday with me. He died in that plane crash, with no remains ever found. From then on, I became a thorn in my parents' side. They blamed me for causing my brother's death, forcing me to kneel at his grave every year on the anniversary to repent. I knelt like this for eight years. Just when I thought I'd spend my whole life atoning, I was stalked and killed by criminals on my eighteenth birthday. Before dying, I desperately tried to message my mother for help, but she harshly berated me. "I think you just don't want to atone for your brother's death, always lying! If you hadn't forced him to come back, how would my son have died? This is the retribution you deserve!" She hung up mercilessly. I stared blankly at the darkened screen, suddenly losing all will to live. Yes, what right did someone like me, who brought harm to others, have to stay alive? But later, when my brother who had been dead for eight years returned with his pregnant wife, and they learned of my death, they both collapsed.
Chapter 1
When I was ten, because I kept begging my brother to come home for my birthday, he died in a plane crash. No body was ever recovered. After that, I became a thorn in my parents' heart.
They hated me for causing my brother's death. Every year on the anniversary of his death, they forced me to kneel at the cemetery and confess my guilt. I did this for eight years.
I thought I would spend my whole life making up for my mistake. But on my eighteenth birthday, I was stalked and killed by a criminal.
Before I died, I tried every way to message my mother for help. But she yelled at me: "I think you're just lying because you don't want to make up for your brother's death! If you hadn't forced him to come home that day, my son wouldn't have died. This is just the karma you deserve!"
She hung up on me without mercy. I stared at the blank screen. Suddenly, I lost all will to fight. Yeah. Why should someone like me, who brings harm to others, even deserve to live?
But later... my brother, who had been dead for eight years, came home. He brought his pregnant wife back with him.
When they found out I was gone, they were completely heartbroken.
......
The year I turned ten, I committed a fatal mistake. I caused the death of my elder brother, Nathan.
I had grown up in what seemed like a loving family, surrounded by caring parents and an older brother who was the epitome of excellence. I was treasured by everyone around me. But all of that changed irrevocably with a single phone call I made. It was my birthday. I called Nathan and pleaded with him to come home to celebrate with me. As a result, he lost his life. His plane crashed, leaving nothing of him behind.
Ever since then, my parents despised me. They told me more than once, "Why did you have to pressure Nathan to come back? Why didn't you die instead?"
That accident didn't just claim Nathan's life—it killed me, too. Guilt, regret, and my parents' relentless accusations dragged me into a deepening abyss. I agonized over those questions again and again: Why did I make Nathan return? Why did I cause his death? Why did God take him away? If only I hadn't made that phone call, maybe none of it would have happened. But the world doesn't run on "if onlys." No one would give me an answer, anyway.
From that tenth birthday onward, my life narrowed to just one word: atonement. Every year, on the anniversary of Nathan's death—which was also the date of my birthday—my parents would force me to kneel at his grave in the cemetery and repent. I knelt like that for eight long years. Just when I thought my life couldn't wither away any further, I became the target of an escaped serial killer—a murderer notorious for dismembering his victims. And so I met my end in a horrifying way.
In truth, I fought to survive right up until the very end. I pulled out a stun device my dad had given me, disguised as a sweet little white lamb pendant. His job had earned him more than a few enemies over the years. Once, my mom and I were abducted by thugs. To save me, my mother was dragged behind a car for over 30 feet. My father, in his desperate attempts to protect us, was stabbed in the chest. We were only rescued because of the police team who arrived just in time.
After that incident, my dad gave me this pendant—inside was a high-voltage stun gun. After teaching me how to use it, he told me: "I can't be by your side forever. You have to learn to protect yourself."
But somehow, when I was caught by the murderer, when I flipped open the pendant and lunged at him with all my strength, it malfunctioned. I lost my final chance to survive. I remember every detail of what happened next with haunting clarity. A wrench, pliers, an axe—each tool was used on my body without a trace of mercy. My terrified expression seemed only to fuel the man's frenzied excitement.
It hurt. It hurt so much that I wept uncontrollably, losing control of my body right there. I never imagined the sound of bones breaking could be so loud, echoing so distinctly in my ears. Skin tore open. My vision flooded with red. And then, I blacked out.