Gone on My Sister's Death Anniversary

I died beneath the Ferris wheel. The killer took a photo of the Ferris wheel and sent it to my mother.

'Mom, I want to ride the Ferris wheel with you too,' wrote the killer.

In my mother's voice message, her tone was filled with hatred as she replied, "How dare you ask to ride the Ferris wheel with me when you killed your own sister? Why won't you just die?!"

As she wished, I was dead. However, what she didn't know was that the one who killed me was my so-called dead sister.

I'm Dead

When my mother arrived at the crime scene, she was stopped outside the police line. Her assistant handed her the camera and began reporting the situation. "A victim was trapped and tried to escape. However, they had likely fallen to their death. We still need to wait for the police to have more details."

My mother nodded calmly after hearing her words.

As a seasoned journalist, she was used to rushing to the front lines. Thus, she never flinched, no matter how tragic the scene looked. This was also one of the reasons I admired her.

Sadly, she didn't know that I was the victim this time.

I was desperate, hoping that she would quickly realize this.

However, she took out her phone and opened her chat with Angel instead. The second she did, her expression softened. She even smiled as she typed, 'Sweetheart, I might come home late since I'm quite busy today.'

I could do nothing but hover in the air, feeling a pang in my heart as I watched her actions.

It had been a long time since I last saw my mother smile at me. Yet, she would always check in with Angel no matter how busy she was. Meanwhile, she would always curse at me no matter how many messages I sent her over the past five years.

When her assistant looked over and saw the screen, she said, "It's been a while since I last saw Angel and Melissa."

At that moment, my mother's gentle expression changed drastically.

"You can see Angel, but why would you want to see Melissa, that murderer?!"

I felt the urge to cry when I saw the hateful scowl on my mother's face.

I knew she still hated me.

My mother had given birth to a triplet. When we were eight, my second sister, Vanessa, was pushed down a flight of stairs and died from the fall. Back then, she held my sister's body and screamed at me, "You monster! I'll have you thrown in jail!" she cried.

Alas, I wasn't sent away to juvenile detention even after she was armed to the teeth with the best lawyers available, as I was too young back then.

She hated me to the point she cut ties with me and took my older sister, Angel, away, abandoning me.

Thinking about it, I sobbed, though no tears came.

On the other hand, the assistant was baffled by her words. Then, she said, "She was young back then. Maybe she has changed…"

My mother's face twisted in disgust as she spat, "She was born evil. I should've strangled her to death the moment she was born. They are both my children. However, Angel is a sweet girl, while she is a menace.

"Honestly, who knows when she'll get a sudden fancy to go after Angel."

With that, she dismissed the topic and turned on the camera as she began examining the photos.

The image showed my corpse, a gruesome scene with blood splattered around. My face and fingers had been melted with acid, rendering me unrecognizable. My body was severely decomposed and gnawed by rats.

Officer John was conducting a preliminary assessment.

"The victim's face and fingerprints were destroyed. She had wounds across the chest and injuries from a fall. We suggest that the cause of death was the sharp wound."

My mother crouched and jotted down the notes on her notebooks with one hand holding the camera.

Officer John approached her and sighed. "This is a severe case, Ms. Elina. We'll release details once there's progress. I'll call you then."

He frowned and looked slightly uneasy. "This was likely done by someone who knew the victim well. After the victim boarded the Ferris wheel, someone cut the power and trapped her up there.

"She had to break a window to escape. I don't even know how she managed to climb down. She was a strong girl. It's a shame she didn't survive."

The other reporters inhaled sharply upon hearing his words.

They couldn't imagine what kind of deep-seated grudge could drive someone to kill a girl so cruelly.

"She was discovered far too late. She had been dead at least a week." My mother sighed pitifully.

When I heard her words, I couldn't help but wonder if she would feel regret if she knew it was me who'd died.

At the same time, she continued to look through the photos.

She froze when she flipped to one of the photos.