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He Cried When I Died Novel Cover

He Cried When I Died

As she is brutally attacked, the protagonist makes one final, desperate phone call to her brother, Nathan Slade. Instead of offering help, Nathan dismisses her cries as attention-seeking drama, warning her not to miss Gemma’s upcoming graduation. He hangs up, leaving her to perish in agony. This haunting mystery and horror story follows the tragic aftermath of his negligence. He threatened to kill her if she failed him, but he was far too late; she was already gone.
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Chapter 2

"Hey, Gem, did you miss me?"

Nathan had such a gentle smile on his face that I knew it had to be Gemma without looking at the caller ID.

He used to be the brother who loved me more than anything and would give me the whole world if he could. But now, all his attention was on that manipulative orphan he'd taken in.

"Hang on, Gem. I'll come home as soon as I wrap things up here… Got it. I promise I'll take care of myself," he rambled on.

Whatever Gemma said next darkened his expression, and his voice turned cold. "Don't worry, I'll make sure Rosanne admits she stole your thesis. If she won't own up to it, I'll beat it out of her.

"There, there. Don't be upset now. Stay home until I get back. Things aren't safe outside right now, and if you ever have to go out, let me know, alright?"

A hollow, bitter laugh escaped me as I listened to Nathan's soft reassurances. He was my biological brother, yet he'd never believed a word I said and trusted some outsider he'd picked off the street.

Gemma had plagiarized my thesis, but why wouldn't Nathan believe me?

"Oh, and you have to come on Sunday night, Nathan. I have a surprise for you." Her sickly-sweet voice rang through the phone.

I could feel the alarm go off in my chest and desperately shook his arm. My voice sounded full of panic as I screamed, "No! Don't go, Nathan! Gemma… she's a lunatic!"

But Nathan could never feel my existence. He smiled at the phone with that same affection in his eyes. "Don't worry. I promise to finish up here as soon as I can and come home to you."

When he ended the call, he noticed Lawrence still frowning and laughed.

"Fine, Lawrence. I'll check the victim again and see if there are new clues. Don't worry about it."

Lawrence reached for him and said, "Wait a minute. I tried calling Rosie, but she didn't pick up. You try calling her. She'll answer if it's you."

Nathan waved him off. "I don't have time to find out where she is. I'm busy."

Seeing how adamant he was, Lawrence sighed in defeat.

After returning to the autopsy room, Nathan shut his eyes, took a deep breath, and mentally prepared himself before putting on his gloves. Then, he leaned in to examine my body.

Suddenly, his gaze sharpened, and he grabbed my wrist.

My heart leapt. Was this it? Had he finally realized it was me?

On the inside of my wrist was a faint crescent-shaped scar. It was a mark from the time we got lost in the hills as kids.

I'd scraped my wrist on a branch, and he'd nearly cried in distress. After wrapping my wound with a hankie, he'd carried me all the way home on his back.

That scar had faded over the years, but to me, it still held a significant memory. I was sure that he'd recognize me if he saw it.

Just then, his phone rang with a call from Aunt Lorraine. "Nathan, is Rosie with you? I've been trying to call and text her, but she won't answer any of it."

Aunt Lorraine was the only family member who still cared about me after our parents died. Thinking of her made my heart ache.

Nathan was instantly annoyed. "Just let her be, Aunt Lorraine. She's been acting more defiant and disrespectful by the day."

"What happened between the two of you again?" Aunt Lorraine tried to talk some sense into him. "Come on, she worries about your bad stomach and trained as a nutritionist just to learn and cook for you. Gemma is an outsider, no matter what—"

"Don't even try to compare them, Aunt Lorraine. Rosanne's nothing but trouble and always lies. And now, she's pulling this stunt and probably hiding somewhere. I'm not falling for it," Nathan said in disdain, cutting her off.

"I'm busy, Aunt Lorraine. Let's talk later."

With that, he hung up before she could answer.

Perhaps hearing my name again annoyed him because he barely glanced at the scar on my wrist before ripping off his gloves in frustration.

Just like that, he missed his chance to identify my body.

Suddenly, loud noises erupted in the hall.

He stepped outside and saw a high-schooler, his eyes red and puffy from crying.

"Please help me find my sister. She's missing…" the teen said, breaking down.

Nathan's expression grew solemn. "Calm down, kid. Tell me exactly what happened."

The teen choked back tears as he said, "My sister's 21. She's been working out of town, but I haven't heard from her in days.

"She's all I have left. I'm begging you… You have to find her!"

The more he spoke, the more frantic and desperate he grew. I could feel my heart twist with a bitter ache.

His sister had been gone two days, and he was frantic with worry.

Meanwhile, I'd been missing for four days, and Nathan was convinced I was just playing games.

I closed my eyes, only to realize my tears had run dry.

Nathan, my older brother who used to love me more than anything, was gone.

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