I am dead.

I leaped from the 13th floor and smashed into the cement ground, turning into a puddle of mud.

Fresh red blood gushed out from my broken body.

Even though my body was mangled, my eyes could not close.

I died with my eyes wide open.

My soul floated nearby, watching my own corpse without sorrow or joy. The almost transparent soul that the wind passed through, though devoid of sensation, I still felt so cold.

I was bound in place for seven to eight hours until daybreak, when someone discovered my body and called the police.

The police car arrived with sirens blaring, yellow police tape was put up, and the body was placed in a body bag.

During this time, many people gathered around.

"Isn't this the woman in our neighborhood who abused cats? She actually jumped off the building and committed suicide?"

"Good riddance! People like her, with a human face but a beastly heart, are better off dead!"

"But before, the police said there was no evidence to prove she abused cats. Is this whole thing true or false?"

"Photos and videos were posted online. How can that be fake? If the police didn't find anything, then she must not have done it at her own home!"

"Tsk tsk tsk, you never really know a person. Such a pretty young girl turned out to be so twisted!"