Three years after my death, the grounds surrounding Blackwood Manor became a wasteland. Not a blade of grass survived. Anyone who ventured too close fell violently ill within hours. The tabloids called me a curse that would linger for a millennium. The media pressure mounted until Julian had no choice. He brought Silas to the estate—a renowned occultist who promised to cleanse the property and bind my restless spirit forever. The manor stood before them, ornate but lifeless. A cold wind swept through the empty halls. Julian pulled Isabella behind him, his face tight with irritation. "That bitch Seraphina. Dead for three years and still causing trouble." "I should have left her on some remote island to rot when I had the chance." He didn't know the truth. My ghost hovered beside him, watching. My cursed corpse lay buried beneath his feet. Rotting. Festering. --- The house that had been my prison gaped like a wound in the landscape. Though it was noon, sunlight couldn't penetrate the windows. The darkness inside seemed alive. Silas and his apprentices surveyed the property, their expressions growing grimmer by the moment. "The resentment here is overwhelming," Silas muttered. "This won't be easy to resolve." He paused, then continued: "We need to find the body first. Only by pulverizing the bones with a blade forged from consecrated obsidian can we hope to dispel this malevolence." The method was grotesque—barbaric, even. Even Silas, who had witnessed countless horrors, struggled to suggest it. Julian didn't hesitate. He immediately ordered someone to procure the obsidian and commissioned the finest craftsman to forge it into a knife. Then he led the group toward my grave. "Isabella's been having nightmares for weeks. That bitch is behind it, I'm certain." "Dig up her grave. Grind her bones to dust. I don't care." I'd been buried hastily. It took them some time to locate the site. Finally, they found it—beneath grass that had grown nearly ten feet high. My tombstone lay toppled and cracked in the weeds. The ground was uneven. Julian had workers prop the broken stone beneath Isabella's feet so she could stand more comfortably. Then he ordered two laborers to dig. Word had spread throughout the county that Julian was coming to exorcise Blackwood Manor. Curious neighbors gathered to watch. They all blamed me for their misfortunes. "Filthy whore," one man spat. "Dead and still making trouble. Should throw a diseased pig down there with her—fuck her corpse every day until she's too exhausted to haunt us!" The old man hawked phlegm onto my grave. "Mr. Blackwood treated you like a princess when you were alive. You didn't appreciate it then. Now you're dead and causing chaos. How can anyone be so vile?" Another person kicked the coffin savagely. Of course. Everyone in this town knew how much Julian "adored" his precious Seraphina. Julian waved them back. He was about to signal the workers to pry open the coffin when arms wrapped around him from behind. "Julian, please. Seraphina was my sister, after all." "Whatever she did wrong, I forgive her. Can't we just let her rest in peace?" Julian pulled Isabella into his embrace, stroking her back soothingly. "Darling, you're too kind to her. She repaid your goodness with betrayal. Have you forgotten all those nights you woke up screaming from nightmares?" "I locked her in that house three years ago. Today, I'll cast her out for good." Isabella nodded, burying her face against his chest. Secretly hiding the anxiety in her eyes. Silas directed his apprentices to open it. The workers were more respectful than the spectators. They carefully broke each lock rather than cursing the dead. The metallic clanging echoed across the wasteland. Finally, they lifted the coffin lid. But inside wasn't the rotting corpse they expected. Instead, the coffin overflowed with blood-stained ballet shoes. Everyone stared in confusion at the mountain of pointe shoes. Only Silas stepped forward, lifting one. The satin was shredded from use. The blood had oxidized black over time. After searching through the pile, Silas suddenly announced: "This is a malevolent ritual circle." He pulled out a jade pendant from the bottom of the coffin. The stone was so dark green it appeared black. Intricate symbols covered its surface. Julian laughed derisively. "Vicious to the end. Even in death, she left curses to torment Isabella." "Search everything. I want to know what game she was playing." Silas produced a dowsing pendulum. It pointed directly at the manor house. The building reeked of dark energy. Only after the apprentices established protective wards could they enter safely. Inside, the pendulum went haywire—spinning wildly without stopping. Silas ordered his team to search for any personal belongings, but everything of mine had been burned the day after my death. They found nothing. Isabella began sweating the moment she entered. Now she clung to Julian's arm. "Julian, please. Let's leave. I feel awful." She whimpered weakly against him. Julian started to lead her out, but Silas blocked their path, trembling. "Mr. Blackwood, you cannot leave!" "To break the curse, you must remain. You were closest to the deceased. If you leave now, the spirit's power will surge exponentially!" No one had dared defy Julian before. Now this occultist presumed to stop him? But Silas was renowned—untouchable. Julian clenched his fist, fighting the urge to strike him. Instead, he punched the antique vase in the center of the hall. It shattered instantly. A notebook fell from inside. Julian grabbed it and flipped through. The pages were blank. Enraged, he started to tear it apart—but Silas snatched it away. Julian's glare could have flayed flesh from bone. But Silas ignored him, chanting over the empty notebook. The apprentices, returning empty-handed, saw their master working a spell. They formed a circle around him, joining the incantation. Slowly, writing began appearing on the previously blank pages. "The spirit's diary from before death!" "Read it!" Julian's patience snapped. "Let's see what tricks she's playing. And how that bitch Seraphina learned such dark arts!" Silas opened to the first entry.
"Today is my twentieth birthday. Julian came to celebrate with me. I was so happy. But Isabella kept inserting herself between us, preventing us from talking. She even pretended to stumble into him. It made me a little upset. I'm being petty. My sister would never hurt me. I remember the day they found her—the day she came home after being lost for ten years. Mom and Dad held her and sobbed. I stood to the side, silently vowing to protect her too. But after that day, it felt like Mom and Dad stopped loving me. They only saw Isabella. Then I went abroad to study ballet. They forgot about me entirely. Even when I burned my hand making them breakfast, they just had the servants throw it away without a word. But with Isabella? They treasured even the smallest souvenir she brought back from vacation. They carried those trinkets everywhere, showing them off to everyone. Still, she deserves all that love. She lost ten years with our parents. No amount of compensation is too much. At least I still have Julian. No matter what, he'll always be by my side." Silas's voice was flat, emotionless—yet somehow it made the words suffocating. I never imagined there would come a day when Julian would leave me too. That I would be utterly alone in this world. One day after our wedding, Isabella injured herself extreme skiing. Mom and Dad demanded I donate my right kidney. It was during the critical selection period for the principal dancer position at the company. I was the top candidate. Becoming principal at a world-class ballet company was my dream. The surgery required months of recovery. I would miss my only chance. I refused. My parents begged. They threatened. They manipulated. But in the end, it was Julian who strapped me to the operating table. Julian. Julian slammed his fist into the wall, teeth clenched. "She betrayed me first. Now she's playing the victim. Shameless!" "Isabella and your parents were so good to her, and this is how she repays them!" In the corner, Isabella relaxed slightly. She moved toward Julian, her hand gently sliding up his arm. "Julian, don't be angry. She was just upset about not being able to dance anymore. She didn't mean it." "If... if they hadn't found me that year, maybe Seraphina wouldn't have turned out this way..." Tears streamed down Isabella's face. Julian's anger intensified seeing her cry. He wiped her tears, voice harsh with fury. "This has nothing to do with you. You did nothing wrong." "Stop defending her. This is all Seraphina's fault—that selfish bitch!" The crowd, though they'd never even met me, nodded in righteous indignation. Silas sensed something amiss. He continued reading. "There's a thunderstorm tonight. I'm terrified. But Julian went to Isabella's. After we married, he started staying at her place constantly. Every time, he tells me not to misunderstand. Tonight, with the thunder and wind, I begged him not to leave me alone. I'm genuinely frightened. But he said he's comforted me through storms countless times and I never seemed scared before. He locked me in my room. Then he went to her. Because Isabella had just called him, crying that she was afraid of the thunder. Julian, did you ever consider that Mom and Dad are there with Isabella? I have no one." "Today is October third. I'm recording the date because I'll remember this day for the rest of my life. I'll never dance again. I fell today. I asked to be taken to the hospital. Julian refused. He accused me of using it as an excuse to see 'that doctor.' He keeps saying I betrayed him. I don't even know which doctor he's talking about. He locked me in my room. Wouldn't let anyone treat my injury. A day later, a house doctor finally came. By then it was too late. The damage to my leg was permanent. I've been practicing harder these past weeks, preparing for my next chance at principal dancer since I missed the last opportunity. Now there is no chance. Never again. Julian, you always said you loved watching me dance. You said I looked like the angel on a music box. Today, you broke that angel's wings with your own hands."
I watched Julian, hoping to see some flicker of nostalgia for what we once had. That would at least prove he'd cared about me, once. Instead, he grabbed a nearby ornament and hurled it against the wall. "The evidence of her affair was irrefutable! And she still has the audacity to lie!" "Keep reading!" "I want to hear what other bullshit she spews!" Silas glanced at Julian, then continued. "My leg is broken. I need rest. But Julian hasn't visited once during my recovery. He won't answer my calls. Mom and Dad came, though. I thought they were here to see me. I was wrong. They came to tell me to stop calling Julian. They said: 'Isabella failed to get into the Vienna Dance Academy again. She's devastated. Julian is helping her through it. Please don't disturb them.' 'Isabella has never asked for anything her whole life. Just this once—let her have him!' Mom and Dad knelt before me, begging. My heart shattered. They're my parents. Now they're on their knees in front of me. But I couldn't agree. My whole life, Isabella took everything. My toys, my princess dresses, my parents' love. Now she wants Julian too—the only thing I have left? When I didn't answer, they cried harder. They were ready to kowtow. I finally nodded. Even though it felt like a knife twisting in my chest." "Julian pulled strings to get Isabella into the dance academy after all. That's wonderful. I wish I hadn't seen that entertainment news segment. On TV, a reporter asked if Julian and 'Miss Vane' would be making an announcement soon. They didn't specify which Miss Vane, but everyone knew they meant Isabella standing beside him. After all, Julian and I were already married. Julian smiled. He didn't deny it. The media took it as confirmation. I was devastated. Confused. Another reporter asked if Isabella got into the prestigious academy through Julian's connections. Julian denied it. Then he said my spot at the school had always rightfully belonged to Isabella. That I'd stolen what was hers. I turned off the television, trembling. I couldn't bear to hear more. Everything was gone. Even Julian had left me. In the end, they even took ballet—the only thing I had left, my soul's purpose. I stared at my useless legs and sobbed." After these diary entries, the crowd fell silent. Only Julian spoke, voice cold. "Still pretending? Aren't you tired? Is it that hard to admit you wanted to meet your lover?" Isabella wrapped her arms around Julian, soothing him. "Julian, don't be upset. Seraphina was just lashing out because she couldn't dance anymore. She didn't mean it." I watched them, so intimate—the way their eyes wove invisible threads between them. I sighed softly. I remembered when Julian and I were that sweet, in the early days of our marriage. But Isabella visited me constantly. One thing led to another. They ended up in bed together. That's when I realized they'd been having an affair. I confronted Julian, crying, demanding an explanation. He ignored me. Said Isabella was pregnant and needed to be handled delicately. Then he barred me from his office. He moved into Isabella's house. He stopped answering his phone. I had no way to reach him. I never got to tell him: I was pregnant too. Julian, irritated by the diary, snatched it from Silas and read ahead himself. "Isabella is pregnant. Julian moved into her house. I can't see him anymore. But Isabella visits me constantly to mock me. She says our parents, our man, our dreams—everything belongs to her. I deserve nothing. I'm worthless. A complete failure. I tried to avoid confrontation. I turned my wheelchair to leave. But she deliberately walked toward me. As she passed, she threw herself to the ground. Julian and our parents rushed in. Isabella claimed I pushed her. I denied it. No one believed me. They called me a monster. Julian was furious seeing Isabella suffering from the miscarriage. He had me locked in this remote manor estate. This massive house—and I'm completely alone. The servants only clean and bring food. They never speak to me. My only companion is a crow that built a nest outside my window. People say crows sound harsh and grating. But to me, that cawing was the most beautiful sound in the world."
But eventually, the crow died in the first snowfall. Winter came viciously to the Highlands. Overnight, the world turned white. I braved the freezing wind to check the nest—only a few twigs remained, clinging stubbornly to the eaves. The nest had collapsed. Below, on the lawn, I found the crow's frozen body. The crow was gone. I was alone again. I wanted to die. But they'd made it impossible. Every sharp object had been removed. The manor's upper floors were inaccessible without the elevator, and my wheelchair couldn't reach the stairs. I tried starvation. They caught on quickly. The servants stopped bringing meals and instead administered IV nutrients daily. I couldn't live. I couldn't die. My mental state deteriorated rapidly. Soon I could only lie in bed, kept alive by machines. Julian didn't want me—but he wanted me alive. One day, a servant entered my room, turned on the television, and left. On screen, Julian publicly denied all my achievements in ballet. He claimed every award, every accolade belonged to Isabella—who happened to look like me—and that I'd stolen her glory. The media erupted. I didn't need to watch to know how the public would judge me. As expected, everyone called me shameless. Said Isabella was cursed to have a sister like me. That I was an embarrassment to the Vane family. The scandal consumed the news cycle. At its peak, my parents made a statement. "We apologize. We failed to raise our daughter properly." "However, we hope you'll show mercy to Seraphina for our sake." "We spoiled her. This is our fault. We're truly sorry." Every word confirmed the lies. I lay in bed, too exhausted to feel angry. I thought back to years ago, when I was still a student at the academy. Before Isabella was found. When I was the only beloved daughter. Before marrying Julian, when his world revolved around me. The memories flickered past like a film reel. Was I dying? Good. Please, let it be quick. I couldn't endure this suffering anymore. But I didn't get my wish. I hadn't gotten a single wish since Isabella came home. I was lost in memories when a loud thud startled me. Isabella had fallen to her knees before Julian. Apparently, he'd just asked if the diary entries were true. Isabella cried out: "Julian, is that really what you think of me?" "She's my own sister! I've cherished her my whole life. How could I frame her?" "If you don't believe me, ask any servant in the house!" Julian's harsh expression softened. He realized he'd wronged his lover. He gently helped Isabella to her feet. "Almost let her fool me again. Yes, I said those things about her—but I also paid to bury the news. How could any reporter have been reckless enough to publish it?" He opened the diary and continued reading. "Someone broke into the house. Ragged. Homeless men, by the look of them. The servants seemed to have vanished. The men came straight to my room. My legs were broken. I'd been bedridden for months. I couldn't fight back. Their yellowed teeth grazed my skin. They panted over my body. Then they finished. After that day, they came every day. Always different homeless men. The servants only appeared when changing my IV. They never cleaned me. Never washed away the filth. Someone save me. Or just kill me. Please." "Isabella came today. Julian didn't. Her elaborate manicure scraped across my face. She said I looked like a dried-up corpse now. Filthy. Ugly. She said even the men were too disgusted to touch me anymore. She wanted to preserve me at my most beautiful. So she forced a bowl of medicine down my throat. The medicine was bitter. Not as bitter as my heart. She didn't need to force me. I would have drunk it willingly. Finally, I could die. Julian, I never want to see you again. Not in this life or the next." The diary ended abruptly. The remaining pages were covered in dried blood. Isabella rushed to speak: "This is slander! What did I do to deserve these lies?" For once, Julian—who always defended Isabella—didn't respond. "You don't believe me? Julian, she's lying!" Seeing his silence, Isabella panicked. Julian pulled her into his arms, stroking her hair. "I believe you, Isabella. I believe you." "This is poisonous nonsense! Burn that book!" Someone moved to take the diary. But Silas slowly raised his head. "No. Something's wrong."
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