Pendek Emotional Realism Cerita & Novel

Here's a piece of advice—do not catch the eye of those pretty salesgirls who sell supplements. You have no idea the things they'll do to close a deal. I become a yummy slice of cake in their eyes; they all want a bite of me. I'm faced with the seduction and allure of countless beauties, but it doesn't make me happy at all.

After the plane crash, my body was never recovered. My soul drifted back to the home I hadn't stepped foot in for five years. They didn't know I was dead. They were still waiting for me to come home for Christmas. When my mom got the call from the airline, she froze for a long time, completely at a loss, before breaking down in tears. I followed them as they went to the memorial crash site. That was when I noticed something strange—I could see their levels of regret hovering above their heads. My brother's regret level read: 40%. My father's showed: 60%. Even my sister-in-law had 30% over her head. But my mother's regret level? It flashed a cold, unchanging 0%.

The night my parents were kidnapped, my brother—who happened to be a police officer—chose to go bungee jumping with the fake heiress. I didn't stop him. Instead, I called the police and began preparing the ransom. In my previous life, my brother had forgone the outing to rescue our parents. As a result, the rope snapped during her jump, sending her plummeting into the abyss. Her body was never recovered. He never spoke a word about it afterward. On my birthday, he drugged me and dragged me to that very cliff. "You orchestrated the kidnapping! You'd go this far for their attention? You're nothing but a monster! Lillian is dead. You don't deserve to live either!" When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the night my parents were kidnapped. This time, my brother didn't rush to their rescue. Instead, he ran to the fake heiress. But in the end, he regretted it so much that he nearly lost his mind.

I was a year old when I tried to get some food from my sister's plate. My parents were so angry that they slapped me, rendering me deaf in my right ear. They also hated me until the day I died. They called me a monster that only knew how to take her sister's things. The day I learn I have a terminal illness, I call Mom and tentatively say, "I'm sick, Mom. The doctor said it's a brain tumor. Can you come to the hospital?" She sneers. "You're better off dead. I hope it happens quickly and that you're not at home when it does. I don't want to touch your body." I know they've always looked forward to my death. But when their wish finally comes true and their birth daughter dies, they lose their minds.

I called my wife, a forensic specialist, after learning that my in-laws were involved in a car accident. It was on the 80th call that she finally answered, "I'm just trying to celebrate Justin's birthday for him. What's wrong with you? Can you not get jealous over just about anything?" I informed her that Mom, Dad, and sister had died in a car accident, and that she should hurry back to arrange for their funeral. To my surprise, she scoffed at my suggestion and replied, "What does your family's death have to do with me?" She was not involved in the funeral arrangements at all. On top of that, she even falsified evidence for her love interest—the culprit who killed her family—in court as a forensics specialist. Eventually, on the day I informed her of my intention to divorce, she threw a fit. "Patrick, it's just the death of a few of your family members. Justin didn't do it on purpose. It was just an accident. "Moreover, it's because of your parents' and sister's carelessness on the road that led to the accident. Why are you making things difficult for me and insisting on divorce? I've truly misjudged you…" Noticing the indignance in her response, I finally understood. It seemed she had no idea that it was her family that died in the accident all this while.

I'm a special kind of courier. Instead of packages, I transport beautiful women. I drop them off at designated locations and pick them up afterward. Each round trip earns me a thousand dollars. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that my crush would climb into my car one day. What's more, she'd brought my sister along, saying they wanted to make some quick money together.

My wife made me get a vasectomy. Not once, but ninety-nine times. Right before the hundredth operation, the doctor looked at me with pity in his eyes as the anesthesia failed to fully kick in. "Ms. Gibson really knows how to destroy a man," he murmured. "She's put him through ninety-nine vasectomies, then had them reversed—again and again. However, his body's long since broken. There's no chance of children now." "It's probably for her ex. Word is, it's his own brother. The scandals in these wealthy families—unbelievable." Because of a hospital mix-up at birth, my and Jeff Cunningham's fates were exchanged. He grew up with the Cunningham family, while I lived a poor life. Years later, my parents found the truth, taking me in and sending Jeff away. To make things worse, I became Wynnie Gibson's new fiancé. I once asked her, barely able to speak through the pain, why she would marry someone she did not love. She looked at me calmly. "To get revenge," she said. "You came home and stole Jeff's place. He was the one I love. He drank himself to death after you returned." Even my biological parents knew she was poisoning me. However, they turned a blind eye. They did nothing to stop her. They knew Wynnie had got pregnant with Jeff's child through IVF—planning to raise the child and let him inherit the family fortune. I coughed up blood and threw myself into the sea. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day I was first reunited with them. This time, when I saw the sorrow in their eyes—sorrow not for me, but for the son they lost— I chose to let them go.

I was the heiress switched at birth by a nanny. It was not until I turned eighteen that my biological parents finally found me, and traded me back for the girl they had raised and loved as their own. However, fate played a cruel joke that very same week. My parents died in a car accident. The family business collapsed. In one night, I lost everything. My older brother survived, but his kidneys failed. I did not hesitate. I gave him mine. However, grief broke something in him. Blaming me for our parents' deaths, he spiraled into madness. "You killed Mom and Dad! Why wasn't it you who died instead?" he screamed. I gave up college and took on three jobs a day just to pay for his treatment. Years passed. One day, while cleaning a mansion as a housekeeper, I saw her, the "sister" I was traded for, gliding through a lavish party, dressed in designer clothes and dripping in jewels. I froze when I heard the voices I had long thought silenced. My parents, alive, speaking to her as gently as ever: "Jasmine, you're so compassionate… agreeing to end Helen's punishment early." My brother, the one who should still be seeing a therapist, frowned and objected. "No. Not even a day less. Just because she suffers a little doesn't mean she deserves to live." I glanced down at the medical report still warm in my hands. For the first time in years, I smiled. "Perfect," I whispered. "Now I can finally die like I wanted to."

I went abroad for a year to further my studies and kept in touch with my girlfriend through video calls every day. One day, I saw her first love posted a photo with a caption: [We are finally back together after ten years!] In the photo, my girlfriend was visibly pregnant, holding the arm of the man next to her with a sweet smile.

During a surgical procedure to remove the skin tag from my private part, I accidentally exposed my "manhood." Since then, I've noticed quite a few young nurses sneaking glances my way. Still, none have been as daring as her, showing up at my door in the dead of night.

Two weeks ago, my family and I went hiking and camping. When the storm hit and the mudslide erupted, my adopted sister shoved me into a ravine. My parents and fiance only cared about my sister. They remained completely unaware of my predicament. A week later, when the rescue team finally finds me, my parents accuse me of being selfish and malicious.—— "You clearly know that your sister is suffering from a terminal illness and is about to die, yet you still try to murder her!" they yell. "The bride for next week's wedding will be your sister. She has end-stage kidney cancer, and her dying wish is to marry your fiancé.Ethan. You have to agree to this!" "I agreed to their wedding, and for atonement. I am willing to donate my kidney to my sister, and I will also give her all the academic papers I own and the oil paintings I have collected." Seeing how sensible I was, my parents and my fiance all smiled with relief. They said, "I've grown up and become sensible. I'm no longer that willful elder sister who didn't know how to care for my younger sister." In my final three days, I will give them everything they want and leave behind a perfect image. And when I die, I hope they won't cry, mourn my death；

My son accidentally burns my husband's first love's hand. My husband cruelly breaks my son's hand to teach him a lesson. He's in so much pain that he can't see straight and falls into a lake. Blood dyes the water red. I hold him close as I sob and call my husband, pleading for help. My husband doesn't care, though. "It's just a broken hand—he'll be fine once it's set in a cast. He'll only do worse things in the future if he's not taught a lesson now!" Later, my son drowns in the lake because he's not rescued in time. My husband loses his mind when he sees his body. "How could he have died when he only had a broken hand?"

The New Year was just around the corner. While I was doing a thorough cleaning, I stumbled upon something beneath the couch. It was a damp, used condom, and it still had a faint lipstick stain on the edge. One thing I was sure of was that I didn't use this brand, but the lipstick color? It matched perfectly with my girlfriend Lindsey Stirling's.

On the day of my daughter Eleanor Baldwin's second birthday party, my entire family stood nervously by the banquet hall entrance. They were not there to greet guests, but rather to keep me from showing up and causing a scene. Mom's face was written all over with anxiety. "Lucas wouldn't actually crash the party, would he?" Dad's brow stayed tightly furrowed. "Who knows? That disgrace of a son is capable of anything." My younger brother, Cody Baldwin, had his arm wrapped gently around my wife, Kendra Clarkson, trying to reassure her. "Don't worry. If Lucas dares to show up, I'll keep you and Ellie safe." Kendra nodded slowly. "If it really comes to that... maybe we should just let Ellie be his goddaughter. At least then, we're still family..." However, the party came and went, and I never appeared. I had already made up my mind to join a classified national defense research program. Only this time, it was for good.

I die in the basement after being burned by acid. My family doesn't recognize me, and they don't call the cops. My mother picks up the scalpel that hasn't been used in years and debones me. My father excitedly mixes my skeleton with concrete and turns me into an exquisite statue. My sister uses the sculpture she's made out of my flesh and portrays herself as a genius sculptor whom everyone admires. Later, the sculpture is shattered, revealing half a broken finger inside. That's when everyone panics.

I'm the true heir to an affluent family who got switched at birth. But when I'm reunited with my family, they suddenly announce their bankruptcy. The sprawling mansion is repossessed, leaving me, my wife, and my parents to sleep on the streets. My parents are so furious that they end up getting admitted to the hospital—one gets a stroke, and the other passes away. My wife gets her legs broken by one of the creditors, and my son is so frightened that he becomes mentally impaired. To bear the astronomical medical bill, I work countless part-time jobs and put myself through the wringer. Everything changes when, one day, I accept a job as a temporary driver. I go to a lavish hotel's banquet hall. A celebration for a gold wedding is being held there, and I see my late mother and paralyzed father sharing a kiss onstage. My crippled wife is dancing offstage as she enjoys the festivities. Meanwhile, my son speaks fluently in a foreign language as he speaks with a foreign child.

A stunning married woman came to me, asking to share an apartment. She could not afford the rent, so she offered to pay with her body instead. I thought I had conquered her both body and soul, but it turned out she had other intentions. What I had believed was a moment of passion turned out to be a dangerous trap, as this woman was a black widow. She snuggled up to me, laughing softly. "Don't you know that lust is a double-edged sword?'"

I always thought my wife was just an ordinary "brother-loving sister," the kind who would do anything for her brother. But one night, I watched in frozen horror as she dismembered her brother in our storage room. Then, as if nothing had happened, she turned and looked straight at me. She flashed her usual gentle smile. "Honey," she called softly, her voice sweet and familiar—exactly the same as always.

It was the holiday season and I was on my way home when the traffic on the highway came to a standstill. Suddenly, a Maybach came speeding down the emergency lane and slammed right into my car. The driver jumped out and started yelling, jabbing his finger in my face. “Are you blind?! Don’t you know cars turning should yield to those going straight?” I frowned. “My car broke down and this is where I’m supposed to be. You’re the one who broke the traffic laws, yet you’re blaming me for this?” “Traffic laws?” he scoffed, full of arrogance. “I’m the law in Jacksboro City. That Volkswagen piece of junk you’re driving is not even worth one of my Maybach’s tires!” Then he pulled out a baseball bat and smashed it down on my car. He even threatened to break my legs and demanded compensation. I sneered. “Sure, this may be a Volkswagen… but why don’t you take a closer look at the special clearance permit on the windshield?”

Just one week into my new job, I was wrongfully accused of cooking the books, and it cost me five years behind bars. After that, my wife found out she was pregnant. She insisted on having the baby and promised to wait for me to come home. Out of gratitude, I threw myself into work after my release. I did everything I could to give them a good life. It was until one day, I overheard a conversation between my wife and our son. “Mom, don’t let Dad come out with us. It’s embarrassing! Why did you pin Mr. Scott’s crime on him back then?! And now, the girl next door keeps making fun of me, saying my dad’s a criminal!” My wife gently pulled our son close and comforted him, saying, “I promised Mr. Scott I’d help him. Your dad’s so naive. He’ll never find out.” It turned out that my supposed happy life was nothing but lies and betrayal!