Pendek Emotional Realism Cerita & Novel

My mother hated me, to the point that she wished I were dead. I knew I deserved to die. Sixteen years ago, if I hadn’t insisted on going out, my brother wouldn’t have died while trying to save me. Eventually, both of us got what we wished for. I got brain cancer. She had become a stranger to me as I forgot everything and went to die in blissful ignorance. Then, she went mad.

During the ten years since I was found and brought to my biological family, Sonia Baxter, the girl who took my place, and I have been as close as real sisters. Even Mom says that Sonia cares more about me than a real sister would. I once swore I'd give my life to protect our special family of four. When Sonia is rushed into emergency surgery with a ruptured cerebral aneurysm, I am in my office, calmly practicing a basic suturing technique on a surgical simulator. On the screen, the robotic arm threads the needle with such precision that it looks like a work of art. A few minutes later, my boyfriend, Oliver Lyons, slams open the office door and shouts at me, "Amelia Baxter! Sonia's in critical condition. Only your micro-dissection skills can save her! Every expert in the hospital is waiting for you! We've got less than an hour before the window closes!" He looks at me with hopeful eyes. I'm the only person in the country capable of performing a surgery this complex. My hands are even known as the "Hands of God". However, I simply reply with a hum and continue fiddling with the model. Suddenly, my parents rush in. Mom grabs my arm and cries out, "Amelia! That's your sister in there! How could you just stand by and watch her die?" I gently pull away from her and hold my right hand out in front of them. This hand, which had once created countless medical miracles, is now trembling slightly. "Unfortunately, since yesterday, I've been showing symptoms of essential tremor. Dad, Mom… this hand is ruined."

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 lost my eyesight thanks to a sudden car crash. In order to fund my treatment, I took up the position of a blind spectator, as per my friend's recommendation. The job scope was… challenging to put into words, to say the least. To make things worse, one of the clients was my boyfriend.

Ginny White, tall and curvy, was a graduate from a famous university. She wore a long white dress. I'd fallen for her since I saw her for the first time, but she didn't pay any attention to me. I never expected that just half a day later, Ginny would be on her knees begging me to do such a thing to her, just to get a bite to eat.

On the day of my birthday, my best friend, Bella Johnson, gifted me a polaroid camera. I took that to the zoo. I took some photos of the animals in the zoo. In my past life, I took the polaroid camera she had gifted me and happily took photos for my whole family. Unexpectedly, after a week, my mother got into a car accident and passed away. My father suffered from a stroke, which left half his body paralyzed even after treatment at the hospital. The company that I was managing ran into problems and almost went bankrupt. In merely a month, my hair had gone gray. There were wrinkles and red marks on my face. I gained a lot of weight due to the stress. My boyfriend felt that I was jinxed. He claimed that it was my bad luck that had caused my family to fall apart. He broke up with me. I was ranting to Bella when I accidentally discovered that she had suddenly become a millionaire. Her parents, who were hospitalized, suddenly became healthy again. It was as if they had not been sick to begin with. I almost lost my mind when I found out about that. On my way to the hospital, I was run over by a car and died. After I died, I found out that everything had happened because of the polaroid camera that Bella had gifted me. She had already been having an affair with my boyfriend for a long time. When I opened my eyes again, I was transported back to the day Bella gifted me the polaroid camera.

My adopted younger sister, Marissa Payton, loves pulling pranks on others. But I'm the only one who gets hurt in her pranks. Last year, she and our older brother, James Payton, locked me up in a cold storage room. Because of that, I'm afflicted with a case of severe asthma. James apologizes to me before telling me that he'll take me cave diving just to make it up to me. Marissa tags along with us on the trip. She keeps casting me malicious glances every now and then. Feeling rather uneasy, I quickly get into the water just so I can get away from Marissa. But when I'm 65 feet deep, I feel a wave of suffocation hitting me all of a sudden. It turns out that Marissa has secretly shut off the oxygen supply. I can hear Marissa's smug laughter ringing out from the underwater communicator. "Look, Jamie! I told you that Nat would fall for it again!" James' voice is filled with affection. "Leave it to you to be smart enough to think of such a prank to play on your sister, you little imp." My face has gone blue from the suffocation. I struggle with all my might in an attempt to turn on the bailout cylinder, only to feel my hands getting slapped away from them thanks to Marissa, who has swum over to me. She then whines into the communicator, "Look at how dramatic Nat is being, Jamie! She can't stand the suffocation at all even though it's only been a few seconds!" I hear James' icy and aloof voice reverberating in my earpiece. "Just hold on a little longer. Look at how delicate you are! It hasn't been all that long, yet you already can't stand it. How humiliating. You're not even in the same league as Mari!" This time, I can only stare at James in despair as my complexion slowly goes purple. Has he forgotten what happened to me? Thanks to their prank, my lungs have already sustained irreversible damage. It's getting more and more difficult for me to breathe. Finally, my vision goes black, and I collapse in the dark bottom of the sea. This prank isn't funny at all, James. This time, I'm going to die for real.

In order to protect my father, I was tortured for ten hours, but my father was busy celebrating his adopted daughter’s eighteenth birthday. With my dying breath, I called my father and said, “Dad, it’s my birthday today. Could you wish me a happy birthday?” “You crazy monster! You got your mother killed in order to celebrate your birthday! How could you still ask me to celebrate your birthday? You should just die!” With that said, he hung up. The next day, my corpse was placed in different flower pots and put in front of a police station. My father was in charge of inspecting my corpse, and he could immediately tell that the murderer did this for revenge. What they did to me was cruel and made a mockery of the police’s authority. But he did not manage to tell that the deceased was the daughter he hated.

I need to drive to and from work due to a change in my job scope. However, my father-in-law hoards my car and refuses to return it. My husband stands up for him. "How can you be so materialistic? So what if you have to take an electric scooter to work?" So, I sell the car. My husband points at me and snaps, "What right do you have to sell Dad's car?" I look at him calmly. "I've sold the one you drive too."

My husband, Garrett Kachmar, vanished overseas with his ex, Linda Sharpe. They left me with one thing—an illegitimate, screaming baby. Twenty years later, I posted that my "son" had passed his exams. He was joining the police force. That's when Garrett came back. With Linda. And a lawsuit. At the plaintiff's table, Linda looked polished—soft makeup, perfect posture. Her voice? Pure control. "After Garrett divorced, we got married and had a big, healthy boy. Jemma couldn't stand seeing us happy, so she stole our son. We searched for twenty years. She refuses to give him back. We're his biological parents. We have the right to take him." Garrett shot me a glare. "Jemma, just because you can't have kids doesn't mean you get to steal mine." The trial was livestreamed. The comments exploded. [Can't have your own kid so you steal one?] [You destroyed a family. Sick.] [Give him back to his real parents!] Then my "son" was called into the courtroom. And the whole room went dead quiet.

During a critical heart transplant, my doctor husband insisted his intern assist despite her garish nail art compromising the sterile field. When I called her out, he abandoned the patient mid-surgery to comfort her. I begged him to return, but he snapped, "Giselle is upset. Can't you wait? This is nothing compared to her feelings." 40 minutes later, the patient bled out and died. Later, they discovered that he was our highly respected mayor and placed the blame on me. "If it weren't for you causing a scene and kicking us out of the operating room, the mayor wouldn't have bled to death. This is all your fault!" Defenseless, I was sentenced to life in prison, tortured, and died in agony. My husband and his intern walked down the aisle, enjoying their happy life. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of that fateful surgery.

In the third year after my death, my mother finally remembered me. But it wasn't out of longing—it was because my younger sister's leukemia had relapsed, and she urgently needed a bone marrow transplant. Clutching a donation agreement, my mother made her way to the basement I once lived in. She kicked open the door and was met with a floor slick with blood and scattered medicine bottles. "Cassidy, what game are you playing this time? Do you really think a self-inflicted act of suffering could fool me? Why are you so selfish? Why won't you save your own sister?" Her voice roared with anger, echoing through the space. From the crowd that had gathered to watch, a ragged little boy stepped forward. "Are you talking about Cassidy Porter? She… she died three years ago of organ failure… she vomited so much blood…"

During the New Year’s, on the highway back home to our hometown, my younger brother pestered us to stop for a bathroom break. My mother nudged both my older sister and me. “The next rest stop is quite far from here. You should head to the washroom; otherwise, you’ll regret it later. “Be quick; don’t dilly-dally!” Just as I jumped out, my family’s car pulled away and started driving away. The temperature was close to the freezing point, but my parents left me behind at an unmanned rest stop. I could only rush over and yell after them, “Dad! Mom!”

When the village chief delivered the items for my wedding, my fiancé's adopted sister, who was the apple of his eye, suddenly burst into tears. She cut my wedding dress and smashed the wardrobe that my older brother made for me. Every time I was about to lose my temper, my fiancé, who was also my childhood sweetheart, would immediately side with her. He claimed that she was still young and did not understand jealousy; she was just insecure. Even my own brother defended her, saying I had a birth brother who doted on me. It would not hurt to give in to her. When an earthquake happened, they both ran to her and protected her tightly beneath their bodies. Meanwhile, I was trapped under the ruins for three days and three nights. My brother and fiancé tried every possible way to cheer up her, leaving the villagers to rescue me instead. When they looked at me with wounds all over my body, they only said, "Don't overthink it. Jenn is timid and frightened. We couldn't leave her alone." I was on bed rest for a month, but not once did I see them. Only the village chief came to see me. He tried to persuade me, saying, "You're the first college student in our village. Are you really going to give up on your studies just to get married? This—" I interrupted him, "I made my decision before you came. I'll report to the college on time!"

The company manager, Elton Baldwin, wants to promote my best friend, Lacey Donnovan, at work. In my past life, I, Giselle Ashford, told Lacey not to accept his offer. But after she realized that someone else got promoted in her place and even doubled her salary overnight, Lacey got extremely jealous. She conspired with her boyfriend, Xavier Pugh, to push me off the top of a building, cursing at me and saying, "You jealous bitch! You've always hated seeing me do well, and now you cost me such a good opportunity!" When I open my eyes again, I realize that my world is no longer a shattered one with crimson blood in my eyes. Instead, Lacey's inquisitive face appears before me. She asks, "What do you think, Giselle? Do you think I should grab this opportunity?"

The nanny, Polly Jackson, pushes me down the stairs when I'm seven months pregnant. I suffer from major blood loss and go into premature labor. Before I can question her about it, Zachary Campbell brushes me off with a lame excuse. "Polly didn't mean it. You and the baby are fine, so don't be so petty about this." I get out of bed to move around. I'm at the bathroom door when I hear Zachary and Polly's conversation. "Are you sure that wretch can stay alive, Zachary? Switching it out won't be that easy if it dies." "Don't worry about whether Daisy Jameson's baby can live, Mom. Either way, mine and Danielle's child will be the Campbell family's sole heir." I pretend I've never heard this and raise my son for 18 years. During a banquet held in honor of a share ownership transfer, Polly suddenly shows up with my mentally impaired daughter. She cries, "Mason is my grandson! It's high time he's returned to his rightful place after being raised by the wrong family for so long!" I'm unfazed. I even laugh at her words. "Fine, then!"

My ex-fiancé made me do a blood test the night before our wedding. The next day, he threw the genetic report on my face and dumped me over defective genes. The reason was that the Zimmer family only wanted perfect heirs, and he said that I was not worthy. He broke off the engagement, and instantly married the girl-next-door with perfect genes. Five years later, he reappeared in the hospital, clutching his ill son. He saw my daughter who had similar rashes, and he thought I had given birth to his daughter in secrecy. Little did he know that my daughter had nothing to do with him and only had a mild seafood allergy. I would not be defined by the so-called defective genes again, while me and my daughter live happily and healthily, it was their turn to be destroyed.

My mom and dad died heroically in a fire rescue, trying to protect an orphan. Afterward, my brother brought the orphan, Audrey, home. To make her smile, he'd throw away photos of me and our parents. He even kicked me out in front of everyone. For Audrey's coming-of-age celebration, he took her to Cranburn—the place I'd always dreamed of going. In his eyes, I had nowhere else to go. He believed that once I realized I was wrong, I'd come back on my own. But what he didn't know was—I had joined an overseas rescue team. This might be the last time we ever see each other.

When I was 14, my brother, Cole Maxwell, brought home an orphan girl, Jennifer Burke, to repay a debt of gratitude. From that moment on, my life had always taken a backseat to hers. After Jennifer falsely accused me of intending to ruin her reputation and forcing her to commit suicide, Cole slapped me hard across the face before driving me out of the house. "Get out! I don't have a sister like you!" He even gave her the job that was supposed to be mine and the only heirloom our parents left me, just to make her smile. The more I argued with him, the colder he became towards me. When Cole took Jennifer to visit the city without telling me, I chose to say nothing this time, leaving quietly with nothing but a suitcase. When he learned I'd been accepted into Brightmoor Aeronautical University and would never return, he fell apart.

Just because I refused to let my husband, Timothy Blackwood, bring his late friend's widow, Gracie Morgan, home to live with us, he started spreading vicious rumors about me everywhere. Overnight, my reputation was completely ruined, and scandalous photos of me barely dressed spread all over town. Customers stormed into my restaurant and dumped food on me in disgust. "You're disgusting! Who would dare eat here now? Who knows where your filthy hands have been?!" One shouted, "Restaurant owner during the day, sleeping around in God knows whose bed by night!" ... Timothy had hired all of these people just to make the rumors seem real. Crying, I finally agreed to let Gracie move into our home. I begged Timothy to clear my name, but Timothy kicked me hard in disgust and hissed coldly, "You made Gracie cry for three straight days. Her eyes are swollen from it, so how am I supposed to face my dead friend? This time, you need to learn your lesson." Later, I became exactly what he wanted, broken down into a harmless nothing who could never threaten Gracie again. Just when he was about to let up, he got a panicked call from his friend. "Alyssa Winter jumped off a building!"