The Day I Came Back to Life

The Day I Came Back to Life

Gavin

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The coppery taste of blood filled my mouth, each breath a searing pain. Ryan Todd' s rage-contorted face was inches from mine, his spittle hitting my cheek as he screamed, "This is for Ashley! You owe us!" His fist connected with my ribs again, and a sickening crack echoed through the co-working space. The social media mob, whipped up by his sister Karen, cheered him on as they dragged me from my desk, beating me to death. My crime? Lending Karen my Lucid Air, which then became a death trap for her daughter, Ashley, in a multi-car pile-up on the I-35. Karen, a master of twisting reality, claimed I' d sabotaged my own car, jealous of Ashley' s athletic scholarship. It was a lie so absurd it became believable to the grief-stricken and the gullible. The final blow sent me sprawling, my head hitting the polished concrete floor with a dull thud, and darkness swallowed me. I had been hunted, blamed, destroyed, and murdered for a crime I didn' t commit, a tragedy built on a lie. Then, I gasped, sitting bolt upright in my bed, my heart hammering but my ribs unbroken. My phone buzzed on the nightstand: Good luck with your neighbor today! My blood ran cold. It was the morning Karen Todd would ask to borrow my car. I wasn' t dead. I was back. And this time, not only would the car stay with me, but Karen would pay for what she did.

Introduction

The coppery taste of blood filled my mouth, each breath a searing pain.

Ryan Todd' s rage-contorted face was inches from mine, his spittle hitting my cheek as he screamed, "This is for Ashley! You owe us!"

His fist connected with my ribs again, and a sickening crack echoed through the co-working space.

The social media mob, whipped up by his sister Karen, cheered him on as they dragged me from my desk, beating me to death.

My crime? Lending Karen my Lucid Air, which then became a death trap for her daughter, Ashley, in a multi-car pile-up on the I-35.

Karen, a master of twisting reality, claimed I' d sabotaged my own car, jealous of Ashley' s athletic scholarship.

It was a lie so absurd it became believable to the grief-stricken and the gullible.

The final blow sent me sprawling, my head hitting the polished concrete floor with a dull thud, and darkness swallowed me.

I had been hunted, blamed, destroyed, and murdered for a crime I didn' t commit, a tragedy built on a lie.

Then, I gasped, sitting bolt upright in my bed, my heart hammering but my ribs unbroken.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand: Good luck with your neighbor today!

My blood ran cold.

It was the morning Karen Todd would ask to borrow my car.

I wasn' t dead. I was back.

And this time, not only would the car stay with me, but Karen would pay for what she did.

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My world revolved around Jax Harding, my older brother's captivating rockstar friend. From sixteen, I adored him; at eighteen, I clung to his casual promise: "When you're 22, maybe I'll settle down." That offhand comment became my life's beacon, guiding every choice, meticulously planning my twenty-second birthday as our destiny. But on that pivotal day in a Lower East Side bar, clutching my gift, my dream exploded. I overheard Jax' s cold voice: "Can't believe Savvy's showing up. She' s still hung up on that stupid thing I said." Then the crushing plot: "We' re gonna tell Savvy I' m engaged to Chloe, maybe even hint she' s pregnant. That should scare her off." My gift, my future, slipped from my numb fingers. I fled into the cold New York rain, devastated by betrayal. Later, Jax introduced Chloe as his "fiancée" while his bandmates mocked my "adorable crush"-he did nothing. As an art installation fell, he saved Chloe, abandoning me to severe injury. In the hospital, he came for "damage control," then shockingly shoved me into a fountain, leaving me to bleed, calling me a "jealous psycho." How could the man I loved, who once saved me, become this cruel and publicly humiliate me? Why was my devotion seen as an annoyance to be brutally extinguished with lies and assault? Was I just a problem, my loyalty met with hatred? I would not be his victim. Injured and betrayed, I made an unshakeable vow: I was done. I blocked his number and everyone connected to him, severing ties. This was not an escape; this was my rebirth. Florence awaited, a new life on my terms, unburdened by broken promises.

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