Rebirth on the Day I Saved My Cousin

"Phillip! Phillip, please help me. Please..." Not far away, Shirley Bennett's eyes widened. When she spotted me, she seemed to see a savior. Shirley Bennett shouted with all her might.

Her clothes were torn to shreds, leaving only a few scraps, and she was pinned to the ground by a strong man. She could not resist at all.

Hearing her plea, I was momentarily dazed.

Shirley was so proud. How could she be pleading with me for help?

Before I could figure it out, her pitiful gaze met mine again.

At the same time, memories flooded my mind and overlapped with the image of Shirley before me.

Seeing the man who tried to rape Shirley, I suddenly realized that I had been reborn!

I was back on the day I saved my cousin, Shirley, from being assaulted.

"Phillip... why are you just standing there..." Shirley struggled. Sweat poured down her face, and she had no strength to shout as before.

Her once lively eyes were gradually losing their sparkle because she didn't receive any response to her cries for help.

Shirley and I weren't particularly close relatives.

She wasn't the real daughter of my aunt, Georgia Bennett. She just took my real cousin's place.

Georgia's daughter was kidnapped by traffickers when she was four years old. My mother was worried that Georgia was too sad and might do something rash, so she kindly suggested Georgia adopt a kid from the orphanage.

A younger kid was too timid, and an older one was hard to bond with.

Weighing the pros and cons, Georgia finally adopted Shirley, who was honey-mouthed and looked smart.

Once the procedure was finished, she became a member of the Bennett family.

Naturally, she became my cousin.

My mother had kept tirelessly instilling in me the importance of relatives since I was a little boy. "A happy family is important. Be nice to your cousins."

So I treated Shirley equally as one of my cousins.

I always treated her like my sister. If I gave a gift to my other cousins, she would always have one.

At school, I protected her and escorted her to and from school every day.

When I dined out, I always thought of packing something for her to try.

And when I went shopping with my girlfriend, I made sure everything was fair. Anything would be one for each.

My parents and Georgia noticed and remembered those gestures.

Sometimes, they teased me at the dinner table that I was so close to Shirley that I would not have feelings for any other girl.

I would just smile and say nothing.

Although Shirley wasn't my sister, she was just as important to me.

She was smart and well-behaved. Of course, I wanted to take care of her.

Even when my girlfriend got jealous more than once, I still felt it was my duty to take care of Shirley as her cousin.

Shirley expressed dissatisfaction with my girlfriend's temper. She said she was worried about having conflicts with my girlfriend in the future after I got married. So I agreed to break up with my girlfriend.

Shirley complained that my girlfriend was too pampered to cook. So she wouldn't take care of my parents in the future.

I immediately took my girlfriend to meet my parents and asked her to showcase her cooking skills. But she was scared and left my home as soon as possible.

Yet, my parents didn't blame Shirley. They often praised her for being considerate and said it was my blessing to have such an understanding cousin.

So I didn't hesitate to step out for her after she told me that she was bullied at school. I went to the teachers' office and asked them to punish the bully.

When she was unprepared for exams and feared her grades would drop, I kept her cheating a secret and spared her from being scolded by the teachers and Georgia.

I thought I would watch her grow up, get married, have children, and live a happy life as her cousin.

But I never imagined witnessing such a horrifying scene one weekend. She was pinned to the ground with tears in her eyes. She looked stubborn yet helpless.

Shock and anger filled my mind.

Instinctively, I rushed forward and forcefully kicked the man's hands away. I wrapped her in my coat and held her tightly in my arms to comfort her.

Only when her sobs subsided was I finally relieved. Then I turned my attention to the attacker and punched hard on his stomach.

His pitiful cries didn't stop me. Instead, they fueled my rage and made my punches even more vigorous.

Eventually, he couldn't bear it. So he knelt down and pleaded desperately.

I let out a cold snort, stomped on his hands hard, and shouted, "Get lost!"