As for my uncle, when he killed me, he was fully aware of what he was doing.
I begged for my life, but all he said was that it was my fault he couldn’t get married.
“You can go straight to hell. If it weren’t for you, Teresa would never have left me!” he screamed as the blade pierced my heart. The blood splattered onto his face, and he looked even more deranged.
I died a painful death, and he feigned a mental breakdown, avoiding legal punishment. He was merely sent to a psychiatric hospital.
My parents, eager for compensation money, signed a settlement agreement that helped my brother with his down payment on a house.
In my past life, I had been too soft-hearted and meddlesome, and I paid the ultimate price for it.
This time, I raised my glass in celebration.
“Here’s to my uncle and his future wife – may you have a long, happy marriage and many children.”
The psycho and that gold-digging bimbo deserved to be shackled together for life!
Teresa smiled at my words. “Thanks! Out of everyone here, we’re the closest in age. Maybe I can come hang out with you sometime?”
Before I could answer, my mom chimed in, “Of course! It’s the holidays, and she doesn’t have to work.”