Are There True Stories About After I Died In A Shipping Container?

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.

Trapped in a sweltering 40-degree sauna room, I overheard my older brothers talking outside. My second-oldest brother, Sean Lambert, remarked, "This kid is too stubborn. We need to teach her a lesson." My third-oldest brother, Jacob Lambert, replied, "The temperature has been adjusted. She won't die." I was locked up alone for 72 hours. It was their way of punishing me because of my stepsister. Yet, they were the ones who used to love me the most. My father was a business tycoon, my eldest brother, Axel Lambert, was skilled in finance, Sean was a legal expert, and Jacob was a medical prodigy. My mother passed away after fulfilling her mission, leaving these four men to look after me. They once showered me with love like I was their precious gem, until I turned five. That's when my stepmother and her daughter came into the picture, and I was banished to the housekeeper's room. Their attention shifted entirely to my stepsister. Whenever she cried, my father would bring out the punishment box for me to draw lots. 72 hours passed, but no one came to open the door. Before I blacked out, a few lines of small text popped up before my eyes: [The minor character is about to die. Once she dies, she can be reunited with her mother.]

Three years ago, I was the most promising member of the Scientific Expedition Team. After entering Salakole, I was killed by my fiancé's true love, Vivian Fowler. She stole my supplies, scratched my face, and pushed me off the ship. I died with my second child in my belly. But when the rescue team came, Vivian said I had stolen her supplies and was going to flee. My fiancé, Winston Patton, wrote a report and erased me from the expedition team. From then on, I became a joke. All the people on the team looked down on me. Until three years later, someone discovered my long-frozen body.

Three years after my death, my mother finally remembered my existence. As my older brother was having kidney failure, she wanted me to give him my kidney. To force me to make an appearance, she pushed my severely depressed wife into committing suicide and left my daughter roaming the streets to be killed in a hit-and-run. However, she still did not give up. She started making up things about me on the internet. In the end, my friend told her, “Mrs. Harding, Aiden died in the earthquake three years ago. A steel girder pierced him right through the heart after he saved you, and he died on the spot due to blood loss.”

I was the greediest stand-in in high society, and my motto was simple. As long as cash kept coming, my dignity could take a back seat. For Frederick Jameson, I played the role of his obedient pet, so when his true love accused me of stealing her necklace, I just bowed and apologized. With Samuel York, I served as his lab rat, testing drugs meant for his sweetheart's condition until they left me with a bleeding ulcer. And for Theodore Xander, I acted as a scapegoat, getting pushed out to take the blame of extortion for his crush. They all assumed I was hopelessly in love with them, even forcing me to sign a confession at their joint engagement party. That was when the system's voice chimed in, "Host, the portal home is now open." I wiped the blood from my lips, splashed my wine into their faces, and grinned brightly. "Game over, losers!" Right in front of everyone, I leaped straight into the sea. Later, word spread that the three big shots scoured the entire ocean just to find my body.

My father, Terence Locke, is covered in mud. He grabs my shoulders desperately, and his eyes are bloodshot. He says, "Emma, my company has gone bankrupt, and I accidentally killed a business rival. You have to run away with me." I believe him. Suppressing my fear, I follow him deep into the untouched mountains. To find food for him, I eat bugs and drink dirty water. When a pack of wolves closes in on our cave, my first instinct is to stand in front of him. "Dad, I'll lure them away. Run!" I look back at him one last time before finally making up my mind to trade my life for his. But after I leap off a seemingly bottomless cliff and fall to a pulp on the rocks below, I somehow "see" him inside a slowly descending helicopter. He is popping a bottle of champagne in celebration. At that moment, I finally understand everything. The whole desperate escape over the past few days that ultimately pushes me to sacrifice my life is nothing more than a reality show staged by him. He is merely putting on a performance, while I am truly dead...