I was reborn after my daughter jumped off a building
My five–year–old daughter jumped to her
death at school.
I wasn’t in a rush, but her teacher was losing
- it.
She kept calling and texting, saying my
daughter was dead and that I needed to get
to the school ASAP.
I just turned my phone off and chilled, watching a movie marathon.
Last time, I’d gotten that call from the
teacher, and I’d rushed to the school like a
crazy person.
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Only to see my daughter’s cold, lifeless body.
The teacher said that before she jumped, my
daughter kept crying about how her mom
beat her all the time.
That she couldn’t take it anymore and had
jumped.
Even my husband accused me of abusing our
daughter at home.
But I treated my little girl like a princess. I
wouldn’t even raise my voice at her, let alone
lay a hand on her.
In the face of everyone’s accusations, the
medical examiner lifted my daughter’s shirt.
They saw a web of scars all over her body,
<
old and new, and the examiner said she’d
suffered long–term abuse.
I was instantly branded a monster, a child-
killer, with no way to defend myself.
My parents were doxxed, my business went
under, and they were driven to a miserable
death in their own home.
And me? I was sent to prison, where I was
beaten to death.
Even as I died, I couldn’t understand why my
precious daughter, the one I’d spoiled rotten,
would jump off a building covered in bruises.
Then I woke up, back to the day my daughter
died.
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1
“Honey, come eat breakfast, I made your
special, you gotta try it”
Mark, always sweet and supportive, brought
my breakfast and placed it in front of me.
His usual gentle smile made me shudder.
Mark was my “house husband” He stayed
home and took care of the house, our
daughter and I.
Over the years, he’d been meticulous and
thoughtful, taking care of my daughter and I
like we were his whole world.
My friends all said I’d landed a real winner, a
sweet perfect
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If it weren’t for the last life, where he’d glared
at me with venom, accusing me of being a
cruel mom, a total abuser.
I never would have guessed that my calm,
kind husband could have such a twisted side.
“Hey, are you okay? You’re spacing out, gotta
eat!”
Mark waved his hand in front of my face.
I suppressed my doubts and anger and sat at
the table.
I looked at my daughter across from me,
sipping her milk.
My eyes welled up.
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It was today.
After she ate and went to school, she jumped.
And the last time, all I’d seen was my
daughter’s body.
I’d held her, crying until I was numb.
But the teacher had pointed at me, telling me
to stop faking it.
I was clueless.
She’d said my daughter jumped because I
was always beating her.
She claimed that my daughter had even said
she’d rather die than go home.
When I went to defend myself, Mark rushed
to school.
I expected him to stand up for me, clear my
name.
But instead, he turned red–faced and cursed
me out in front of everyone.
“Ever since I came into your house, it’s been
nothing but beating and yelling, you never
treated me like a human being.”
“I took it all for our daughter.”
“I said, treat me however you like, but why
did you have to hurt our daughter like that?”
“I begged you so many times, why did you
have to push her to this?”
<
Mark’s words were filled with venom and
tears, painting me as a monster who loved to
abuse people.
My explanations were drowned out by the
crowd’s shouts.
Then, the medical examiner came to inspect
the body, revealing the scars.
Old and new, covering her little body.
The examiner immediately said that these
scars were from long–term abuse.
“Even a tiger doesn’t eat its cubs, this woman
is worse than an animal!”
“People like her don’t deserve a husband or
children, they don’t deserve to live!”
Her daughter was so unlucky, getting stuck
with a monster for a mom!”
“Letting someone like her live even a second
longer is polluting the earth!”
The evidence was stacked against me, and
people hurled insults and curses my way.
Some of the onlookers even threw garbage
and rocks, wanting to kill me right there.
I was cuffed and taken to the station, with everyone calling me a “monster mom,” “snake“, “miserable father”
The internet exploded.
Everyone cursed and screamed at me online,
all with the meanest insults.
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My parents were doxxed, their business
ruined.
They were trapped in their house, attacked
and smeared with paint and manure whenever
they went outside.
Eventually, they died, and no one found their
bodies until it was too late.
And I? I was abused and beaten to death by
the inmates.
Even as I died, I couldn’t understand why my
daughter, the one I cherished, would jump to
her death with her body covered in bruises.
The pain from that life was still fresh.
This time, I was going to find out what really
