I remember this sentence in his suicide note. "When my books were shredded and a dead mouse appeared in my drawer, I thought about going home to talk to my parents and sister. But when I saw the scars on Sharon's body, I was speechless. What I've been through is not even one-tenth of what she endured. I shouldn't distract my parents and sister anymore, I shouldn't take away the attention that rightfully belongs to him."
So, on a quiet night, Shawn quietly took his own life. He was truly kind, leaving everything he had to me before his death. He didn't even make a sound, afraid to disturb everyone's rest.
It wasn't until dawn that my mother saw Shawn's body. She broke down in tears, traumatized. My father's hair turned gray overnight and he looked decades older. Sheryl, on the other hand, vented all her hatred on me.
She grabbed my hair and knocked me down in front of Shawn's portrait, demanding questions.
"Why?! Why did you do this? Shawn is such a gentle and kind person. After you returned to this family, he's been so tolerant and cautious. Why did you force him to death?"
I didn't know what to explain it.
Because I couldn't understand why Shawn wanted to commit suicide.