The Final Portrait

I was a sketch artist acting for the police.

On a secret mission, I was discovered by a murderer. My eyes were gouged out, and my body was dismembered, unceremoniously dumped in a garbage bin.

On the brink of death, I called my boyfriend, a criminal investigator. However, he hung up on me because he was busy accompanying his first love to a prenatal checkup.

A few days later, he received a portrait that was a vital clue to finding the murderer, but he thought I was playing tricks on him.

In his anger, he tore that portrait to shreds.

After he found out the truth, he spent the whole night searching through the garbage to piece it back together.

-

After the murderer dismembered me, my remains were scattered in garbage bins.

After receiving a report, the police had the scene on lockdown, and spent an entire day and night to piece my remains back together from different garbage bins around the area.

But no matter how they tried, they couldn't find my eyes.

My body was placed on the autopsy table, already starting to decompose as time went on, and many of my colleagues at the police station couldn't help but retch.

"According to the autopsy, the victim was a young woman in her 20s or 30s. She died around a week ago and was tortured before her death. The murderer used some sort of acid to melt the victim's face, before gouging out her eyes and scattering her remains into garbage bins in the vicinity."

Officer Jones stood up in anger and slammed a pen onto the table. "That b*stard is insane! What do you think, Captain?"

Then, he looked at the young man whose expression didn't change during this entire time.

That man was the youngest captain of the criminal investigation team, Chris Garret.

He was also my boyfriend.

Unlike everyone else, he was calm and composed in his police uniform. His face was a cold and emotionless mask with a chilling aura.

Putting on a pair of white gloves, he examined the evidence and concluded, "Seems like this was done out of revenge. Murderers don't usually take away the organs of their victims, so this one must have really hated those eyes. That's why they wanted to destroy them.

"How long does forensics need to do a DNA test?"

The forensics doctor looked down. "About a week."

Covering my body with a white sheet, Chris turned to leave. "Then we'll wait until the test results come out. After that, we'll check her closest acquaintances. Also, don't forget to keep an eye on the crime scene."

"Understood!"

Chris slipped his gloves off and chucked them into the trash, before washing his hands thoroughly.

That was when one of his colleagues came in with a parcel. "Captain, here's a parcel from Misty."

Chris paused for a second, as his cold aura became even stronger. "Just throw out everything from her, no need to tell me."

The colleague sighed, but he couldn't help speaking, "Are you still angry? Captain, that incident wasn't her fault. She was a victim, too."

As he spoke, he reached to unwrap the parcel, before he gasped. "What a pretty portrait! Shouldn't have expected any less from Misty, honestly. This is probably a birthday gift from her, so take it."

My soul was watching nearby, and I was so nervous that my fists curled into balls.

'Take it! Didn't you want to find the person who murdered your father? That portrait's the clue!'

In my anxiety, I didn't expect my boyfriend to suddenly flare up in anger, grabbing the portrait and tearing it to shreds. "She wants me to forgive her with trash like this? What a joke! I felt nothing but disgusted!"

I instinctively tried to catch the torn portrait, but my translucent fingers passed through the rubbish bin. After a while, I realized.

I had died ages ago.

I would never appear in front of him ever again.

Our colleague couldn't help but try to speak up for me, "But Captain, what if you regret this? Can't you talk it out with her instead of wasting her goodwill?"

Chris scoffed, and went to wash his hands again, as if touching the portrait sullied his skin. "I'll never regret anything more than becoming her boyfriend. She won't be able to make up for her wrongs, even if she dies."

As I floated there in midair, I covered my mouth as I sobbed.

'But I really did die, Chris…

'I'm not lying to you…'