Reborn to Make Them Suffer and Regret

The day before the college entrance examination, the class beauty’s birthday arrived. Ethan Montgomery, the class beauty’s boyfriend, proposed that the entire class go to a bar to celebrate her birthday and lift their spirits before the big exam. Shockingly, the top students of our Rocket Class—all known for their strict discipline and academic focus—voted in full support. In my past life, I was a student committee member. I firmly opposed such a reckless suggestion. I said we should be resting and preparing mentally for the most important test of our lives, not partying and drinking the night before. Ethan looked at me coldly and said, “You’re just jealous again.” My classmates followed up with sneers and mocking laughter: “Oh, acting so high and mighty again? You’re just bitter that Ethan dotes on the class beauty and not you.” I ignored their contempt and implored them sincerely not to go. That night, I even called them one by one, making sure they stayed home and got enough rest. The next day, under the sweltering heat of early summer, I arrived at the testing center early. I called them again, urging them to leave home on time and wishing them good luck. They all did well. Their exam results were excellent—some even achieved record-breaking scores. But just as we were celebrating, devastating news arrived. The class beauty, Sophie Bennett, had gone to the bar alone that night. She got drunk, was assaulted, and left traumatized. Unable to bear the shame and emotional collapse, she attempted suicide by slitting her wrists. Ethan received her final phone call. Upon hearing her last words, he went completely mad. The very next day, he and several classmates cornered me on the school rooftop. Without hesitation, they pushed me off. I fell and died on the spot. When the police conducted an investigation, they all gave matching false statements: “She warned us not to help Sophie.” “She said anyone who went to the bar would be disqualified from the exam.” “Out of fear of failure, she jumped herself.” They twisted everything—the calls I made that night, the surveillance footage showing who left for the testing center. It was all used to frame me. Then came the online outrage. Netizens, blind with fury, doxxed me, harassed my family, and painted me as a cold, jealous monster. One night, someone poured gasoline on our home and set it ablaze. My parents died in that fire. Ethan, who lived next door, stood silently on his balcony, watching the flames with folded arms. He heard my parents scream for help, but didn’t lift a finger until it was over. Then he called the fire department—as if nothing had happened. I didn’t know until I was dead that all of it—every part—had been orchestrated by Sophie. When I opened my eyes again, I was reborn. It was the same timeline, the same people, the same conversations. Ethan stood proudly with Sophie, announcing, “See you all at the bar tonight!” This time, I simply grabbed my bag, turned my back, and walked away. Let them do whatever they want. Let them dance, drink, and pretend to be happy. I won’t waste my breath trying to stop them. Never again will I sacrifice myself for the sake of those who never deserved it.