Framed as a Quack: I Crushed My Hands in Rage
On the day I'm supposed to get promoted as the deputy director, I pick up a 40-pound barbell before breaking my right arm with it.
Due to my injury, I missed out on the chance to perform the only qualifying surgery meant for one's title promotion in five years.
Everyone feels sorry for me, seeing as I've practically ruined my own future with my own hands. But I, on the other hand, am so excited about it that I've downed two bottles of vintage wine in one go.
After all, in my previous life, I performed a ten-hour surgery just so I could drag the patient from death's doorstep.
But my wife, Megan Reese, immediately accused me of abusing my power as a doctor just to resolve a personal vendetta by killing her first love, Pierre Hopkins, on purpose.
She bribed the nurses who were in the same surgery as me. They were adamant that I used the wrong medication purposefully, which led to the patient dying from a rupture.
Not only was my future ruined, but I also became the most hated person ever. Everyone wanted me gone.
My mom tried to seek justice on my behalf, only to get cyberbullied by the Internet users, who knew nothing about the truth, to the point that she broke down. In the end, she accidentally fell into the river and drowned.
When I received the tragic news, I chose to end my life by jumping off the hospital's rooftop.
After I died, Megan spent my assets however she wanted. She also lived happily ever after with Pierre, who apparently "came back to life".
When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day I'm supposed to perform a surgery on Pierre.