How Did Family Comments Affect Rico Yan Cause Of Death Views?

Three years after I died, my mother sent me twenty dollars for living expenses. Three years before that—the first time I ever asked my family for money—she said to me, offhand, "Sometimes I think you're just putting on an act. What's so unsanitary about a thirty-cent boxed meal? And why can't you wear a five-dollar down jacket? Face it, you're just more high-maintenance than your little brother." Later, when I needed twenty dollars to buy some cheap medicine for my stomachache, she blocked me immediately and cut off all contact—along with every relative we had. "Don't contact me anymore. I'm clearly not a good mother. I can't afford to give my son a life of luxury." But for my younger brother, who had just started high school, she spared no expense—renting him a three-bedroom apartment. Even the family dog got its own room. In the end, on the day my brother became the top scorer in the state, she finally remembered me. She took me off her block list and transferred twenty dollars. "It's only twenty dollars. Was it really worth giving your family the silent treatment for three whole years?" What she never knew was this— On the night my stomach ruptured, three years ago, I had already died. I couldn't afford to go to the hospital. I froze to death in the snow.

I was locked in a fridge for 40 days while the uncensored photos of me spread like wildfire across the internet. In the face of the salacious rumors about me, my mother reacted by reposting them. Then, she turned to warn my sister, "Look at how disgusting the entertainment industry is. Don't join it, alright? Stay home and inherit your sister's assets instead. My dearest daughter must be innocent and pure, unlike her." She forgot. She forgot I only joined this 'disgusting' industry to pay for her cancer treatment.

I was supposed to be the pampered youngest daughter of the Falcone crime family. My fiancé was Lorenzo, the heir to the Caruso dynasty. I had three brothers who were the most feared men on the streets. But everything changed the moment my long-lost older sister returned. "Isabella was kidnapped by our enemies when she was three. She went through hell until the family found her at eighteen. Why can’t you just cut her some slack?" "Elena, if Isabella hadn't gone missing, the Don would never have had you just to fill the void. You owe her your life. What right do you have to compete with her?" Time and again, I stepped back into the shadows for my sister. But on the night before my wedding, Isabella called Lorenzo. "Lorenzo... I’m at the Old Port docks. There’s a strange car here and three men just got out... I’m so scared..." Lorenzo didn't even wait to hear the rest. He slammed on the brakes and kicked me out of the car in the middle of a torrential downpour. I clung to the door of that black Maybach, begging him. "Lorenzo, it’s the night before our wedding. This is rival turf." "Just this once, for the sake of the family’s reputation, can’t you choose me?" Lorenzo grabbed my wrists and shoved me away. "If anything happens to Isabella, I swear I’ll send you to hell myself!" But those "three men" Isabella mentioned? They were actually our three brothers, who were only there to watch the ocean and set off fireworks with her. That night, my three brothers and my fiancé were at the seaside, showering her with affection. And I died in an abandoned slaughterhouse on the edge of the city. This time, I finally gave way to my sister completely. But tell me—when you saw my corpse, why were you all crying?

My adopted sister, Rita Lawson, and I get ambushed by a rival family at the same time. But she pushes me away at the most critical juncture, leading to me getting kidnapped. After my kidnappers feed me poison, they leave me to rot in the wild. When I finally get home, I find out that Rita pretends to be poisoned, so my dad has already given her the only antidote. With tears streaking down her cheeks, Rita tells my parents that she's chosen to ingest poison for me, and yet I abandoned her and fled on my own. Of course, everyone believes her. My parents tell me, "Rita got poisoned just to protect you. You must transfer your businesses to her." My husband, Enrico Fulci, says to me, "Someone needs to take care of Rita. Let's get a divorce, Elisa." Even my own daughter, Ivana Fulci, asks me, "Mamma, when are you going to be as gentle and understanding as Zia Rita?" Faced with everyone's accusations, I drink a serum that I've bought from the black market in order to suppress the poison in my system. It can allow me to live like a regular person. But in return, the poison within me will erupt three days later, causing my instant death. Using the three days I have left, I hand my businesses, my husband, and my daughter over to Rita. Everyone is pleased, thinking that I've finally learned my place. But what they don't know is that Death will come for me after 72 hours.

Mom and Aunt Denise Taylor fell off the balcony in the midst of their heated argument. Dad rushed in just as they hit the ground, each with a broken arm. Without hesitation, he left Mom behind and hurriedly took Denise to the hospital instead. Later, Mom filed for divorce. Dad's face twisted in anger as he yelled, "Enough, Nicole! So what if you broke an arm and can't hold a scalpel anymore? What's the big deal? Dee is a genius designer. If she had lost her hand, her life would've been over! Of course, I had to save her first!" Watching all this in my ghostly state, I couldn't help but laugh. Did Dad really think that Mom had only lost the use of her hand? Mom didn't just lose her hand. She lost me. After all, I had severe heart failure, and the only person who could perform the life-saving surgery was Mom, the medical master herself. But none of that matters now, because I'm already gone.

After I got pregnant, I witnessed my boyfriend's grandmother's death. She left behind a secret, and now, everyone who knows that secret is dead. First, it was my boyfriend's father who died. My boyfriend's mother followed soon after. Lastly, my boyfriend died too. He ended his life by overdosing right before my eyes. The media went wild. They dug obsessively for the truth. Again and again, the police summoned me for questioning. Online hate toward me was overwhelming. Everyone wants to know what the secret is. People claim I cursed my boyfriend's entire family to death, just to keep the secret to myself. I stay silent, never saying a word in defense of myself. On the seventh day after my boyfriend had passed, I spot someone at his funeral. At that moment, I place my hand on my swollen belly. I am utterly calm and at peace. It is time for me and my child to die too.