Cerita Pendek & Novel Bias After Death

I had always been obedient. Whatever people told me to do, I did. On the day the king and queen brought me back to the palace, my adopted brother leaned close and sneered, "How did it feel to spend three months as a gutter rat? If you have any sense, roll even farther away this time." I nodded, turned, and ran straight toward the edge of a towering cliff. My father and mother were terrified. They barely managed to drag me back, their faces drained of color. When my elder sister saw it, she grabbed my collar and said coldly, "Attention-seeking trash. If being crown prince embarrasses you this much, you might as well die." I said nothing. I grabbed a vial of poison and poured it down my throat. Blood burst from my mouth and nose. My sister froze on the spot, then scrambled out to call the physicians, looking at me like I was a monster. Not long after that, my adopted brother pretended to fall ill, and my sister held a knife to my throat, forcing me to donate blood for him. Before she could finish speaking, I followed the force of her blade and cut my own throat. The moment my parents pushed open the door, blood sprayed across their faces. The room went silent for one stunned instant before screams exploded everywhere. Amid the chaos, I weakly raised my head and looked at the transparent panel floating in the air. The number on it flickered again and again before stopping at 99. They did not know that as long as I obeyed one final time, I could complete the entire storyline for a cannon fodder character in a tragic novel. Then I could leave this world forever and return to my real home.

The pack knew my mother, Wynne Carter, a renowned pack healer, as the very definition of fairness. To avoid any accusation of favoritism, she once had me removed from the emergency ward while I was suffering from a severe allergic reaction, all because she couldn’t let her own daughter take medical resources away from other pack members. Even when I invited her to the academy’s open day, she turned me down because my instructor was pregnant. She reprimanded me sternly, “Get those funny ideas out of your head. My position is not a way for you to get special treatment from your instructors.” I had always believed my mother was merely strict. Then, the fire happened. My adopted sister, Lena Sylan Carter, and I, who was five months along, were taken to the pack infirmary. My mother walked straight past me while I clutched my belly in agony. She assembled the infirmary’s best healers around Lena, all to treat a minor burn to the back of her hand. “Lena is just a fragile human. She doesn’t have healing powers. Even a small wound could become infected or leave a scar. “Odette Carter, you’re my flesh and blood. If I were to give you priority, the elders will have something to say about that. “Why are you making this about yourself and competing with Lena for attention? You’re about to become a mother yourself. It’s time you grew up!” I grabbed desperately at her pant leg, only for her to shake me off in annoyance and walk away. Little did she know, my wolf had been severely injured. My healing ability was gone. Blood ran down my legs, and the pain in my abdomen shifted into hollow numbness. The truth that my mother wasn’t impartial sank in. I simply wasn’t the one she favored. My vision blurred. I knew that I didn’t have much time left.

Three years after my death, Logan Grant finally married the woman he'd always loved. To get revenge on her behalf, he had my father thrown in prison, drove my mother to jump to her death, and demanded that I get on my knees and beg for mercy. The problem was, Logan, I'd been dead for years. All that remained of me was a pile of dry bones. When my death certificate was finally placed before him, he lost his mind. He dug up my remains, cradled my bones in his arms, and sobbed as he begged me to forgive him.

When I found out I was suffering from heart failure, I was given ten days left to live. For the first time in my life, I smiled because I could finally repay Don Santos for taking me in. To repay Frank Santos' debt, I became his daughter's personal maid in private for 12 years, although I was his adopted daughter in name. I willingly endured all of Principessa Jackie Santos' tantrums. Jenny made me stay in the dark, damp basement and never allowed me to share the table when the family had their meals. On several trips that I had accompanied her on, Jenny left me behind on the outskirts on purpose and made me walk back on my own. I snapped out of the memories and dragged my exhausted body to see Don Santos for one last wish. I hoped to be buried with my real parents after my death, but when I arrived at the door, I heard the Donna, Marie Delgado, speaking to him. "Jenny has suffered enough for all these years. Isn't it time for us to tell her the truth?" What truth was she talking about? I was about to knock on the door, but I stopped when I heard their conversation. "Jackie is our adopted daughter, after all, and she has a sensitive soul. If we aren't hard on Jenny now, what should we do if she bullies Jackie by flaunting her status as our real daughter? "Now that she has labored away for Jackie for so many years, we'll let her return to her rightful place as our Principessa two weeks later, on her birthday." I was stunned. I was their real daughter, but they had watched me be abused for 12 years just to protect the feelings of their adopted daughter! "I can't wait for two weeks…" I would not live long enough to see that day.

My husband, Mason Crawford, is a renowned obstetrician-gynecologist with more thank-you greeting cards from patients than I can count. But when I start bleeding during my first trimester and rush to the hospital to see him, he kicks me out. "Family doesn't get special treatment. Hospital rules. You have to register and wait in line like everyone else." I take his words to heart. I never bother him, not once, for any of my prenatal checkups. That is, until his first love, Vivian Werner, who married and moved abroad, comes back pregnant. That's when everything changes. When Vivian comes in for her prenatal checkups, he personally pulls strings to arrange a VIP room for her. And the checklist of tests he draws up for her is even more detailed than the one he gave me. Vivian says she's scared something might happen to her baby, so he brings in the best medical team to watch over her 24/7. I find this unfair, so I complain to him about it a lot. But Mason simply wipes away my tears gently. "She's divorced and pregnant. She's already got it hard enough. Do you really have to be jealous over this, too?" Since I can't think of a comeback, I have no choice but to bite my tongue and bottle up my feelings. Then, on my way to get a fetal heart-rate monitoring test, I get into a car accident. I call him countless times, but he never comes to sign the consent forms. The surgery ends, and I hold our stillborn baby in my arms. I want him to come see our daughter one last time, but he still doesn't pick up. It isn't until the sun goes down that his buddy calls me with the "good news". "Leah, Vivian's given birth. It's a boy. I've never seen Mason's hands shake like that before. You should go get a gift and bring it here as soon as possible. Mason says he wants to become the baby's godfather." So this is why he hasn't picked up. He's busy delivering his ex-girlfriend's baby.

My mom often makes an example out of someone when it comes to parenting. Unfortunately, I'm that someone, while my little brother, Raymond Nelson, benefits from it. Ever since I was four years old, my mom had been using this method. If Raymond breaks a bowl, I'm the one kneeling on the floor to pick up the pieces. If Raymond destroys something belonging to someone else, I'm the one writing the reflection report on his behalf. Mom tells me, "You're the older sister here. Since you can't keep your brother in line, you're the one at fault." But Raymond can never get rid of his bad habit of stealing and lying. When Franklin Harris, the owner of a grocery store, comes knocking on our door, Raymond points at me once again. "She was the one who stole your money!" In order to help Raymond get rid of this problematic habit of his, Mom decides to hand me over to the owner. "Sorry, Franklin. It's my fault for not raising my child well. I'll give my daughter to you. You can do whatever you want to her, be it scolding her or beating her up." Little does she know that I will never go home after Mr. Harris takes me away.

My older brother was always my parents' favorite child. Victor had been sickly since birth, and from the time we were little, I was expected to absorb every misfortune meant for him. When his kidneys failed, my parents took one of mine and gave it to him. By then, my own body was already failing, yet when I begged them to treat me a little better, they only glared at me and cursed. "If you hadn't taken everything from your brother in the womb, why would he have suffered all these years? You owe this family. Pay it back." With untreated kidney disease worsening inside me, I died after Victor deliberately locked me inside his basement. It was painful, and it was bitter. But this life. I've given it back to you.

I am the biggest female drug lord in Riverdale, who gets shot in the head during a crackdown operation. As soon as the news breaks, the entire internet celebrates. People even crowdfund to take over a giant screen in the city square to display my obituary photo. They say I filled Riverdale with drugs and single-handedly destroyed countless families. They accuse me of leaking operation routes, causing the deaths of my ex-husband's 13 anti-drug force teammates. Hundreds of thousands sign a petition demanding my ashes be crushed and turned into tiles for public restrooms. To calm the overwhelming public anger, my ex-husband, Tyler Lowell, who is now captain of the anti-drug force, decides to launch a public hearing across the internet to livestream my entire life of alleged crimes. On the day of the trial, people thronged the city square. "A woman like her deserves to be cut up into a thousand pieces! How many families are destroyed because of the drugs she sells?" "I hear she is ruthless. She would even stoop to making a three-year-old do her bidding. She is inhumane!" "She got so many anti-drug officers killed. I want to see her end up in hell!" Tyler presses the start button with a blank expression. The crowd's furious curses come crashing down like waves. It is as if they want to tear me apart and condemn me forever. But in the next second, what appears on the giant screen is me in a uniform, standing under the national flag and taking a solemn oath. In that instant, the entire square falls silent.

My wolf was cursed. I had three days left. But my parents and my mate, Alpha Edwin, forced me to surrender my Luna title to Meggie. All because she claimed a curse was killing her, too. In my despair, I agreed. The moment our mate bond shattered, the backlash nearly broke me. With tears in my eyes, I asked them, "If I died, would you even miss me?" They told me to stop faking it, their expressions ice-cold. But they didn't know. Meggie's curse was a lie. And mine was all her doing. It wasn't until my wolf faded to nothing that Meggie's true colors were revealed. Only then did they scream at her, blaming her for my death. But Meggie just snarled back, "I wasn't the only one who killed Hazel. You all did, too, didn't you?"

On the first of every month, Dad calculated my allowance based on how well I followed his rules the month before. "You get 10 dollars for checking in with us every morning and evening, but you only did it for 10 days last month, so that's 100 dollars. "And since you missed the rest, you don't get the 200-dollar bonus. "With your regular allowance of 100, your total for this month comes to 200. "Send me a written explanation for every day you missed. I'll transfer the money once I'm satisfied with it." My voice shook. "Dad, I was studying for finals last month. I had to get to the library before sunrise just to find a seat. That's why I missed some of the calls." Tears stung my eyes. "A train ticket home for Christmas is 300 bucks. I need more than 200. Dad, please. Can't you just…" He cut me off. "I set up these rules for a reason, Logan. You need to learn that money isn't handed to you just because you ask for it. Why can't you see that I'm trying to teach you some responsibility?" Then he hung up. Just when I felt completely helpless, a thug approached me. He said he knew a way I could make some quick cash and told me to follow him.

My sister has awakened her mermaid bloodline, but it is incomplete. Her skin is her curse. A single touch, too hard, and it cracks. For her, everything hard in our house has been thrown away. I love to dance, but the hard tips of ballet shoes are forbidden. I love music, but the strings of a guitar or the keys of a piano are too dangerous. Every dream I've ever had has been strangled in its cradle because of my sister's condition. My brother, Liam, who raised us both, always looks at me with tired, pleading eyes. "Elara is fragile, Isla. You have to be understanding." But I was only eighteen the first time I truly understood. I came home from my high school graduation ceremony, the scent of sunshine and excitement still on my clothes. The moment I stepped inside, Elara's hand connected with my cheek. Hard. For no reason at all. Everyone rushed to her. Liam pointed a furious finger at me. "Look what you've done! You've hurt her hand! How could you be so careless?" He shoved me aside and rushed out with Elara to find a doctor. I fell back against the glass coffee table, the impact jarring. And then, a strange, cold pain bloomed across my back. I felt my skin... tear. It was then I remembered the doctor's words from my last check-up: "You carry the Siren's Gene, Isla. It could manifest at any time." As my vision blurred, my own blood pooling on the pristine white floor, I finally understood. The curse wasn't just my sister's. It was mine, too.

After being out of contact for a month, my wife finally remembered me. 'Mason's still one song short. Bring me that score of yours.' But this time, she never received a reply from me again. Mason tried to persuade her carefully. "Vega, forget it. Maybe I'm just not meant for this award. Don't fall out with Blaine because of me." Vega reassured him that I was only sulking. Then she went home, found my score, and handed it to Mason, thinking she could explain everything to me once I came back. But she never got the chance. I had been by her side the whole time—she just could not see me anymore.

Maynard Hansen planned a luxury birthday cruise for Darlene Thompson, but the cruise ship capsized when a violent storm swept in without warning. Without hesitation, Maynard gave the last seat on the lifeboat to Darlene. As I struggled in the water, my son, Waldo Hansen—whom I carried for nine months and gave birth to—cried out, "Don't let Mom up! She'll push Ms. Thompson off." Clutching nothing but a broken plank, I somehow made it to shore. By the time I collapsed on the sand, I was frozen, exhausted, and done. I had never felt so alone. Shortly after, I found myself clutching a diagnosis of severe depression in my hand. I was ready to bring this wretched life to a quiet end. But when my husband and son realized I truly didn't want to live anymore, they collapsed into tears. They wrapped their arms around me as they sobbed, "Please don't leave us. We really can't live without you."

The day Grandma died, my parents, both of whom had remarried, began arguing over who would have to take me. In the original timeline, I had been concerned about Dad working himself so hard and chose to live with him so that I could be there for him. I even picked the numbers on the lottery ticket that won him a multimillion-dollar jackpot. After he became rich, he bought a nice place and luxury cars for my stepmother and their children. Yet he would not spend a cent on my pain medication. By the time doctors found the tumor in my brain, I could only lie in bed and endure the pain until it killed me. In the new timeline, Dad frowned and sighed again and again. “Your mom married a wealthy businessman. You’ll have a much better life with her. “I already have too many children at home. There just isn’t room for you.” Mom fiddled with her freshly manicured nails and replied indifferently, “That’s not fair. More children just make a home livelier. “My husband runs a very strict household, and the twins from his first marriage are impossible to deal with. “She has always done whatever she wants. They’ll eat her alive if she comes home with me.” Their attempts to push me toward each other no longer stirred any feelings in me. When they finally lost patience and demanded that I choose, I quietly picked up my suitcase and walked over to Mom. Her face immediately darkened. Dad, meanwhile, breathed a sigh of relief. He was unable to suppress a pleased little smile. However, he did not know that without me there to intervene, my stepmother would toss the winning lottery ticket into the washing machine and reduce it to a pile of soggy scraps. Having traveled back in time, I only wanted to live comfortably during whatever time I had left.

Before my wedding to Dante Valdieri, the Don’s son, his childhood friend Tessa announced that she had a surprise for me. Marco and Enzo, his two closest friends and capos in the Valdieri family, wheeled in a six-tier cake, its frosting snowy white and its ribbons perfectly tied. Tessa raised her phone with a smile. “Come on, we have to get this on video. You only get married once!” Before I could react, she grabbed the back of my head and slammed my face into the cake. A support rod pierced my eye. I thrashed, desperate to pull free and scream for help. Dante clamped his hands around my wrists. “Isabella, it’s just a joke. Do you really have to make such a scene?” Marco and Enzo pinned my shoulders. “Tessa spent all morning planning this. Would it kill you to play along?” I fought to lift my head, but I couldn’t even cry out for help. They only let go when I stopped moving. “Is she mad at me?” Tessa asked quietly. Dante’s expression darkened. “She’s sulking again.” “The ceremony’s about to start. Leave her alone to cool off.” Then they walked away. None of them knew I was already dead. When the bride was called to the altar, I never appeared. At last, Dante burst into the dressing room and pulled back my veil. “Isabella, the ceremony’s already started. Are we getting married or not?” When he discovered I was dead, he lost his mind.

From as far back as I can remember, I knew my mom hated me. She gives me sleeping pills when I'm three. When I'm five, she tries pesticide instead. But I'm hard to get rid of. By the time I'm seven, I've already learned how to fight back. If she refuses to give me food, I flip the table so no one can eat either. If she beats me up until I'm on the ground, writhing in pain, I go after her beloved son the same way, leaving him bruised and bawling. That's how we stay locked in battle until I turn 12. Everything changes when my youngest sister is born. I'm clumsily trying to help with her wet diaper when Mom suddenly shoves me against the wall. The look in her eyes holds both disgust and fear. "What were you trying to do to my daughter? I knew it. You take after that monster of a father. Why didn't you just die with him?" I hold my aching head. For the first time, I don't fight back. I believe she's right. My existence is a mistake. I should never have been alive.

My mom's dying of cancer, and her final wish is to see me settle down and start a family. I beg my girlfriend, Yvonne Hurst, and my childhood friend, Colin Lowell, to help me put on this act for Mom. After asking them 88 times, they finally agree to play along and help me fulfill her last wish. On the day of the wedding, Mom clings to the last of her strength, waiting until the very end for the bride and best man to arrive. But they never do. Instead, Colin posts a photo online. Yvonne's in her wedding dress, and Colin is dressed as the best man. The two of them stand beside a cake, beaming at the camera. "My best friend's getting married, and the bride went all the way across town to pick up a cake with me," his caption reads. A guy couldn't ask for a better girlfriend. He's one lucky man." The location tag leads to a popular bakery known for its cakes. I call Yvonne and demand to know what is going on. "Isn't this all supposed to be about fulfilling your mom's dying wish?" she asked, sounding casual, almost dismissive. "I thought I'd spend some time with Colin and help him relax. It'll make our performance more convincing later." Colin leans over and laughs. "Yeah, Nathan. We're just messing with you. We'll be back soon," he assures me. "Tell Ms. Brooks to wait a little longer." Only then do I understand that my desperate pleas and Mom's dying wish mean nothing to them. To them, it is all just a harmless joke. I stare at the heart monitor as its beeping flattens into one long, unbroken tone, tears blurring my vision. When this absurd little act finally comes to an end, I'm the only one left to bear the consequences. From this moment on, I'm going to let them go. And finally, I'll let myself move on.

When my parents cut off my younger brother’s medical expenses again for the sake of their adopted son, I finally gave up on them. Even the comments were full of sighs. [Yale, your parents already told you. They don’t favor their adopted son. They only took him in because they were worried about you and your brother growing up spoiled. They wanted him to teach you both how to handle hardship.] [Last time, they made you donate blood for money to pay your tuition. Before that, they let a group of thugs steal the money you had for food…] [This is only the 100th test. They said that if you can get through this one, they’ll finally be able to love you without any worries.] Get through this one? Xander Parker was already dead.

My Alpha mate Kieran ordered our eight-year-old son to burn my mother alive because his Omega assistant accused me of killing her pet dog out of spite. Kieran's eyes were filled with impatience and disgust. "You're supposed to be our pack's respected Luna. Why would you target an innocent Omega? Whatever harm her pet suffered, your mother will endure the same. Your mother is paying the price for your jealousy!" I fell to my knees, begging Kieran to spare my mother. But he commanded our seven-year-old son Owen to light the fire himself. My son didn't hesitate for a second as he threw the torch into the pile of wood. "That's what you get for always going against Aunt Sera!" I screamed and cried, desperately begging them to help me put out the flames. "Please, I'm begging you, take my mother to the healing center..." "Enough, Aria. Your mother is still lying in the hospital bed. That's just a training dummy. Stop putting on this pathetic act." After saying that, father and son walked away without looking back. They didn't know that it really was my mother burning in those flames. But when I finally gave up on them and left, why did they both come crawling back, begging me to return?

In the third year after my death, my wife, a lawyer named Serena Collier, wants me to take the blame and go to prison for her first love, Declan Merritt, once again. She arrives at my hometown carrying a confession statement she prepared, only to discover the place has long since fallen into ruin. Feeling panicked, she has no choice but to ask the neighbors where I am. My neighbor says, "You're asking about Fletcher Whitmore? He's been dead for a long time! I hear that a victim's family hunted him down for revenge and beat him to death after he got out of prison." Serena refuses to believe it. She thinks that my neighbor is in cahoots with me to deceive her. With a disgusted expression, she lets out a cold snort. She sneers, "All I did was put him behind bars for a few years. Now, he even dares to lie to me! "Tell him this for me—if he doesn't show up in court that day, he can forget about me giving another cent to his mother in the mental hospital!" After saying that, she storms off angrily. Watching her stubborn figure disappear into the distance, my neighbor sighs heavily. "But his mother already starved to death in that mental hospital a long time ago…"