Emotional Realism Short Stories & Novels

On Christmas Day, my parents decided to add my sister Chloe's name to the family trust. As the lawyer prepared the documents, he glanced at me. "And this young lady? Should she be included as well?" My mother waved a hand dismissively. "No need. She's just a foster child." Ever since Chloe was brought back home, I—their biological daughter—had become the outsider. All because Chloe insisted she was the only daughter in the family. If anyone so much as mentioned that I was blood-related, she'd have a PTSD episode—screaming, crying, the whole breakdown. Eventually, everyone just accepted it: "The Haper family only has one real daughter. The other one's a foster kid." At first, I tried to correct them. I was their real daughter too. But my parents would go pale and snap at me: "Chloe already struggles with insecurity. It's such a small thing—do you really have to push her over the edge?" Then came the day I got my acceptance letter from Stanford. A background investigator showed up at our door. "Ms. Kent, what is Kate's relationship to you?" My mother's voice was breezy. "Oh, she's just a foster child we took in." Right there, I froze. After the investigator left, I took matters into my own hands. I filed for independent status and booked a one-way ticket to California. Since they refused to claim me as their daughter, then in seven days, I'd stop being the extra person in their house.

On the day of the college entrance exam, Jorja Smith, my son's homeroom teacher, calls to inform me that my son, Heath Hanson is absent. Heath doesn't return my calls or texts back. I look all over for him, only to come home and find him on the couch, eating fruits. When I ask Heath why, he sneers, "I just don't feel like going. You signed me up for six tutoring classes. My weekends are always full, and everything I do has to go according to your plan. I've had enough." I force myself to stay calm. "Finish the exam first. We'll talk things through after that." Heath throws the torn-up admission ticket in my face. "It's gone. I can't take the exam even if I want to." I black out as my old illness flares up, and I collapse. Heath glances at me, goes back inside his room, and slams the door shut. When I open my eyes again, I'm back to the day of Heath's college entrance exam. Jorja calls again, and I tell her, "Ms. Smith, he won't be taking the exam."

At the age when I should have been attending university, I was framed by my biological parents and sent to prison. My sister had been cruelly killed by her kidnappers when she tried to save me, and they blamed me for her death. On the day of my release, I was kidnapped and had one of my ears cut off. When I found the opportunity, I immediately called my father, asking him to save me. Instead, he snapped, saying, “You’re no longer my son! Don’t contact me!” I was then burned alive. After I died, my sister returned. However, when my parents found out that the charred corpse was mine, the family crumbled.

It is my third year in prison after taking the blame for the adopted son of the Ingram family, Seth Ingram. Because of my good behavior, I am released early and return home ahead of time. The whole family is celebrating Seth's birthday. When my sister, Sheryl Ingram, sees me in my cheap tracksuit, a hint of disgust appears on her face. My fiancee, Isabella Kennedy, who once promised to wait for me, speaks up and says she'll put me in some storage room for now. "Seth has a weak body. You just got out of prison, Matthew. You need to stay away from him so that the germs you carry won't get to him." I don't argue or make a scene. I do as I'm told without objection. I understand that I've long lost my place in this family. Sheryl's hand pauses as she cuts the cake. "I thought you'd make a fuss like you used to. Looks like prison did you some good. You've become much more sensible." I force a smile. The cramping in my stomach seems to start acting up again. I don't argue back. I've accepted my fate.

When Neil Young brought up divorce again, I calmly signed the divorce agreement and began to cut off all contact between us. On the first day, I sold the unfinished marital house I had bought two years ago. On the second day, I stopped his grandma’s monthly $2,000 pension and cancelled his sister’s supplementary card. On the third day, I called my brother and returned to my real home. Once the plane touched down, I suddenly became curious. Without me, his ever-ready, self-sacrificing maid, how would Neil support his irritable grandmother, vain sister, and leeching junior?

The newly-appointed leader, Eileen Shaffer, fantasizes herself as a queen. Because of that, she treats me like her personal maid. On her first day at work, Eileen sends me a list consisting of 16 workplace rules. Not only does she request that I prepare warm water that must be proven to be 113 degrees Fahrenheit by a thermometer every day, but she also wants me to prepare three meals per day for her. I'm not allowed to order takeout. Those meals must be cooked and prepared by me so that the food is safe and clean to eat. Finally, shit hits the fan at the Thanksgiving holidays. Eileen has the nerve to call me 18 times at 2:00 am just so I can leave a like on her son's video. Unable to tolerate her antics anymore, I slap her on the spot. "I'm the daughter of this company's CEO, and yet I have to slave away at work every day! Do you seriously think you're an actual queen now?"

A little over a month pregnant, I was happily looking forward to my wedding—until my fiance teamed up with my parents and brothers to put me on trial at the Court of Justice. They fabricated charge after charge, hoping to have me executed in the name of the law. If the judge found me guilty, I would be sentenced to death on the spot. Once I was dead, my corneas would be transplanted into my adopted sister, and everything I owned—my assets and insurance—would be claimed by them. Faced with my fiance’s betrayal and my family’s treachery, I fought back. I demanded the judge use the latest medical technology to extract my memories and project them on the big screen, letting the judge and hundreds of public jurors decide my fate. Just as everyone was smugly certain of their victory, the truth revealed by my memories moved the entire courtroom to tears.

After I succeed in helping my wife, Claire Gibson, establish her company, I decide to become a full-time stay-at-home dad without a worry in the world. Since my daughter, Nancy Davidson's 10th birthday is coming soon, I want to make the event fancy. So, I decide to place an order on Hill Hotel's birthday banquet services, where one full table of food costs 18 thousand dollars. When I'm swiping my card, the hotel employee shoots me a look. "Mr. Davidson, your card can barely foot for a 500-dollar bill." Embarrassed, I go home and question Claire about the family's finances. She looks at me apologetically instead. "My company has been participating in a bidding process lately. The newly-appointed governmental senior official is a greedy one, you see. I've spent quite a lot of money in bribing him just to get things done. "Once my cash flow is back, I'll definitely throw Nancy a fancy birthday banquet!" In a considerate manner, I tell Claire that I completely understand her situation. But soon, I start calculating the assets I still have. After all, my dad is the newly-appointed official. There aren't any bidding processes going on in the government at all. I'd like to see where on earth Claire has spent all of her money.

My grandfather, Daniel Collins, is a thief. He steals my grandmother's name, Elise Caldwell, along with her identity as a volunteer from the city. Then he uses it to escape from the remote backcountry with another woman. Years later, he becomes a law professor, standing at the front of a classroom and lecturing his students about justice. The woman he runs away with becomes a renowned painter, appearing on television to speak about integrity, morality, and principles. Meanwhile, my grandmother is left behind in that remote backcountry for the rest of her life. Everyone around her brands her a "slut" and shames her for something she has never done. She dies without ever reclaiming her name, her identity, or the life that has been stolen from her. 50 years have passed. With the sacrifices my grandmother and mother make for me, I eventually escape the remote backcountry where they spend their lives and build a future of my own. I work my way up until I become a partner at one of the country's most prestigious law firms. During graduation season, I serve as one of the firm's lead interviewers, sitting across from a room full of ambitious young candidates hoping to land their first position at the firm. One applicant in particular catches my attention. She is poised and polished, and she has graduated at the top of her class from one of the country's most prestigious universities, where she studied law and political science. I open her résumé and read through it carefully, page by page, until I reach the section listing her family information. Then I stop. My eyes settle on one name and stay there for a long moment. Finally, I look up at her. My expression gives nothing away as I quietly close the résumé and announce, "I'm sorry, but we're not taking you as the intern."

The day I became the state's SATs valedictorian, my father, with his dyed blond hair, got so excited he put his food delivery helmet on crooked. He threw his arms around my mother, tears streaming down his face. "Honey! See that? I told you our genes were anything but ordinary! The curse's been lifted! Our son's gone and become the greatest of all time!" My mother, who had just dyed her hair purple, smacked her thigh as she shed tears of joy. "Bull! This is all because I quit the club scene for good and started selling grilled cheese sandwiches at the night market! God has seen my sincerity and rewarded us for it!" As I watched them celebrate like a pair of overgrown teenagers, I read the floating comments across my vision and had to blink away my tears. "You dummies, this has nothing to do with luck!" "You two swallowed so much bitterness just so your son could stand tall in public! Frankie over here got beaten and didn't dare fight back while Tanya pricked her fingers raw just to support his studies. You two sacrificed everything you had just so he could live well."

In my past life, my parents forced me to jump into a freezing lake just to retrieve a limited-edition watch dropped by the fake heir, Carter Reed. It left me with a 104-degree fever. I lay trapped in my bed, drifting in and out of consciousness. Meanwhile, my parents flew the family to Miami for a vacation, just to cheer Carter up. As I lay dying, trembling uncontrollably, I managed to call my dad, Matthew Reed, only to be met with his sharp, impatient voice. "Tyler, your brother is finally in a good mood. Can’t you be considerate for once? Just find some meds and deal with it yourself, okay?" Left with no other choice, I forced my rubbery legs out of bed and dragged myself downstairs for medicine. My feet slipped, I tumbled down the stairs, and died right there on the spot. When my eyes snapped open again, I was right back on the very first day of summer break before senior year. Carter was waving that watch in my face. He leaned in close, whispering with a smirk, "You're gonna go get it for me, right? Dad said brothers are supposed to help each other." This time, before he could react, I snatched the watch straight out of his hand and hurled it into the center of the lake with everything I had. "Screw you, Carter. Screw this family. I'm out!"

In my previous life, the person I trusted most—my own sister—betrayed me. When her lover's financial fraud was exposed, she pushed all the blame onto me. Overnight, I became the villain everyone despised. Even my father abandoned me. "We don't have a son who would destroy the company like this!" With my reputation ruined and my future destroyed, I chose to end my life on a cold, rainy night. However, fate gave me a second chance. When I wakes up, I finds myself back on the eve of the project that started it all. This time, I refuses to let anyone control my destiny. Sitting in the office, staring at the glowing computer screen, I ignores the mocking laughter of my coworkers—and sends out my resignation letter. If the world once turned me into a scapegoat… Then in this life, I'll take control of the game itself.

When my brother, Adrian Carter, storms out of the house in anger, I go out in the pouring rain to find him—only to be struck by a fallen live wire, resulting in the complete loss of both my arms. From then on, I, who dreamed of becoming a doctor, have been doomed to be a patient forever. I make multiple attempts on my life. My family wrestles me back from the clutches of death every time. Adrian crouches down in front of me and begs, "It's my fault. Please don't die." Mom quits her job and keeps me company all day long. "You mean more to me than my life! What am I supposed to do if you're gone?" To earn more money and help me regain the ability to live normally, Dad works as hard as he can and even takes on more work abroad. I assume that life will eventually get better. But after I've finally learned how to use my feet in place of my hands for everything, I inadvertently overhear a conversation. "If I'd known this would happen, I wouldn't have stopped her from killing herself." The next day, I climb to the rooftop alone. The wind is howling. It makes me sniffle, but no tears fall.

I was crushed into a pulp by a speeding semi-truck while my mother was at a baking class with my cousin. When I called her, desperate, she only snapped at me. "What's all the racket? Kyle burned his hand because your call distracted him. Did you do that on purpose?" The next day, in her capacity as one of the city's most celebrated morticians, she was assigned to restore the face of a body mangled beyond recognition. She worked on it for a full day and night and still couldn't bring back the dead woman's face. Mom, can you really not recognize her? That's the face of the daughter you hated most.

When I was seven, my sister and I were kidnapped at the same time. The cash my parents brought was only enough to save one child, so they chose to save me first. Because of that, my sister was raped by the kidnappers, and both of her legs were broken. After that, I became the sinner of the family, spending every day trying to atone for what had happened. On Christmas Day, just because my cooking didn't suit my sister's taste, my parents locked me in my room. My soul drifted out of my body, and I was shocked to see my sister, who had supposedly been disabled for twenty years, walking around perfectly fine. She kicked her wheelchair aside and complained, "I'm tired of pretending to be disabled after all these years." Mom said, "Sweetheart, if you didn't pretend to be disabled, Sophie wouldn't serve you willingly." Dad chimed in, "Exactly. After all, the three of us worked together to deceive her back then. You can't let the truth slip." So the twenty years I spent atoning for my sins had all been one big lie. Almost a week later, they finally remembered to come home. By then, I was already a corpse.

My son, Andy Morrison, gets hit and dragged nearly two miles by a drunk driver. I carry him into the hospital, his whole body drenched in blood. The emergency room light flicks on. I collapse in the hallway and scrape together enough strength to text my wife, Gwen Dalton. "Andy's in critical condition. Get here now." A few seconds later, my phone chimes. "Stay safe. I'll come when I'm done here."

I was the most famous lawyer in the city, with a constant stream of clients. However, my career took a hit after I adopted my daughter — all because of her toxic, rebellious nature. When I took a child abuse case, she told the victim’s family, “My father loves taking cases with little girls, because he loves little girls.” When I hosted a seminar online, she barged into the camera and said, “Don’t believe my father! He uses his work to harass victims.” Today, I joined a speech competition on behalf of my law firm. The audience was filled with VIPs. I told her again and again not to act up. She promised, then turned to wail at the national panel of judges. “My father said he’ll send me back to the orphanage because I won’t let him molest me. Are you sure you want him to represent you?” I looked up at her triumphant, vicious gaze and stayed silent. This time, however, she would soon regret it.

At the Christmas dinner table, my drunk uncle suddenly turned on my mom. “You know, Sis, you’re pretty shameless, aren’t you? Every year, I give Anna five hundred bucks as a Christmas gift, but you’ve never given my daughter anything!” The rest of the family had clearly been holding this in for a while. Since someone had said it out loud, they all jumped in at once to accuse my mother of always taking and never giving. They called her selfish and stingy. My mother suddenly grabbed me by the hair and slapped me. “Anna, why didn’t you tell me you got money from them? Have you been hiding cash? You made me look like I can’t return a simple favor! Happy now?” I had clearly given her everything I ever received! With the way she twisted the truth, I ended up becoming the liar in everyone’s eyes. As a result, later that night, when a fishbone got lodged in my throat and I choked, everyone just sat there laughing and watching. They were convinced that not only had I lied about the gift money, but I was also trying to scam them for medical bills.

To honor my late girlfriend's final wish, I tracked down her younger sister, Nancy Coleman, who had been missing for years, and brought her home from the slums. I enrolled her in the best school, spent hundreds of thousands on her birthday party, and even gave her my black card without a second thought. Before long, everyone in our social circle thought I spoiled Nancy rotten. At first, Nancy was cautious and reserved around me. But as time went on, she got more and more spoiled and demanding. She once made me fire an executive just because he didn't greet her properly. Another time, she made me abandon a project worth over a hundred million just so I could take her shopping. I did everything she asked. Then, a week ago, she started dating my sworn rival and demanded half of my company's shares as a congratulatory gift. For the first time, I refused. Nancy threw a fit and disappeared for two days. I wasn't concerned in the slightest. I just watched the three-day countdown on my phone. It was counting down to Nancy's graduation. It was also the final day of the promise I'd made to my late girlfriend to look after her sister.

My sister, Luna Rivers, is famous in Bridgeburg for being absurdly devoted to her little brother. She spends millions of dollars to throw a party for my 18th birthday. But on the day of the party, she personally locks me inside a small dark room. By the time I smash the door open and stagger into the ballroom, covered in blood from head to toe, she is gently holding another man's hand as they cut the birthday cake that should be mine. That man looks exactly like me. Even the scar on his wrist is identical to mine. I barely take a step forward to demand an explanation when a flood of messages suddenly explode across my vision. "The male supporting character is hilarious. He's just an adopted stand-in. Why's he getting jealous of the main character?" "Just wait. Later, he goes completely insane trying to compete for affection. The female lead will break his arms and legs, then have him admitted to a mental hospital. Serves him right!" The blood in my veins turns to ice. Luna spots me. Her first reaction is to shield the man protectively behind her. Then she snaps coldly, "Don't make a scene. Jeremy is my real brother. I'll explain everything later." Jeremy? We have the same name and the same scar. I really am the perfect replacement.