Familial Bond Short Stories & Bias Campus Novels

Thor and I grew up together—we were the definition of childhood sweethearts. We'd promised to attend the same university, graduate, and marry right after senior year. Everyone envied us. They said we were a perfect match, destined for a lifetime together. And I believed that too. I truly thought I'd spend the rest of my life with him. Until the final semester of our senior year in high school, when a new transfer student named Lina joined our class. At first, the two barely spoke. But as they grew familiar, their bond deepened in ways I could no longer ignore. He started staying after school to tutor her, bringing her breakfast every morning. When she was upset, he'd take her for a drive along the coast. If she craved Italian steak, he'd have fresh cuts flown in. Even during her period, he'd quietly prepare everything she needed. I was furious. I confronted him, argued with him, and even threatened to break up. The first time I said it, he thought I was joking and coaxed me out of my anger. The second time, he dismissed it as another tantrum and tried different ways to please me. The third time, he broke down—standing outside my house in the pouring rain all night, half kneeling before me, begging for forgiveness. Again and again, I tried to leave, and every time, he refused to let me go. Yet with each reconciliation, something in him shifted. He started taking me for granted, assuming I would always come back. His patience wore thin. His apologies turned perfunctory. Even when he came to make peace, there was no sincerity left in his voice. So I said it for the hundredth time, and that was the last. That was the moment I finally gave up on him.

Thanks to my dad's work, I have to transfer schools. Soon, I go to my new school to register for my enrolment. After submitting my personal information, the teacher in charge shoots me an odd look. "Is your father Mr. Chapman, the new shareholder? His child should have enrolled with us a long time ago. In fact, his daughter is half a year older than you. You're not that person at all…" Stunned, I dig out my phone and show my photo with my dad to the teacher. She glances at the photo before showing me the system window. "Mr. Chapman's daughter has been studying in this school since the first term. He even donated a library to the school recently. This is a photo the school board has taken. You can take a look yourself." In the photo, my dad and an unfamiliar student can be seen standing at the school's bulletin board. That young lady looks as old as I do. Her features are similar to my dad's. In fact, she resembles him more than I do! If they are an actual father and daughter pair, then who am I?

When the half-mile sprint test is about to begin, Quiana Sullivan, the class president, and I have applied to be exempted from it. My own mother, who's the homeroom teacher of my class, approves Quiana's application with a smile. But she then throws mine to the floor. "You're having a chest pain, you say? I can't believe you're able to come up with such lies just to avoid the half-mile sprint! I'd have known if you had a heart condition! "Quiana is weak by nature, not to mention she's on her period right now, so she can't handle the agony. What about you, hmm? You've always been perfectly healthy, yet now you're telling me that you're suffering from heart pain? "Don't go around embarrassing me just because you want to slack off! I don't want others claiming that I'm being biased toward my own child! As long as you're still alive and kicking, you must finish the half-mile course no matter what!" Left without a choice, I can only return to the field. The cold wind makes me feel even dizzier now. My heart keeps contracting uncontrollably against my will. Suddenly, it just stops pumping. The next thing I know, I collapse onto the grassy field heavily. When my consciousness is about to flicker to darkness, my mom finally walks over to me. But she merely kicks my arm with a frown on her face, and her tone remains glacial. "Stop playing dead. Get up right now." She doesn't realize that I can never open my eyes ever again. Isn't this great, Mom? No one will ever claim that you're biased toward your own child. I've used my life to prove how fair and just you are. You must be happy now, right?

My SAT scores are out. It turns out that I'm the top scorer of my state. But I insist on applying to an obscure, third-rate private college in front of my friends and family. Everyone thinks that I've gone nuts. Mom even gets down on her knees and begs me not to destroy my future. "You can go to any top college you want! Why must you attend that trashy college instead?" I remain unmoved despite the fact that everyone keeps convincing me to change my mind. What they don't know is that if I don't go there, everyone will die in three days.

I'm infamous for being the stupidest student in the entire school. Even though I've been doing additional revisions till late night every day, I keep getting the lowest rank consistently in exams. On the other hand, my younger sister, Mia Lawson, doesn't study at all. Yet, she always comes up as the top of her grade every time. Our parents soon call her as the Math Prodigy. Because of that, I'm forced to live in the attic, which leaks all the time during rainy days. My table lamp gets smashed into pieces as well since I shouldn't be wasting power if I can't cram any knowledge into my brain. My parents also force me to drop out of school and start working at a young age. They claim that losers should stick to their paths and do what they do best. But at the same time, they don't hesitate to drop a grand sum of money just to enroll Mia into a class based on the Arithmetiad. There's a time when I contract a high fever that makes me all woozy and my consciousness all blurry. Because of my illness, I randomly draw an incorrect construction line on a draft paper. The next day, the line actually appears on Mia's exam paper, pixel by pixel. That's when realization dawns on me immediately. Before the day the National Arithmetiad is set to be streamed live in front of the entire nation, I opt to not solve any difficult questions. Instead, I lock my room door and keep telling myself in front of the mirror that the greatest mathematical equation in this world is 1+1=3.

On the day the SAT test results were released, my younger brother, who had always been an average student, turned out to be a perfect scorer. Meanwhile, I, the straight-A student, had my results voided because my answers were deemed poorly structured. During a reporter's interview, my brother suddenly dropped to his knees in front of me and slammed his head against the ground. "Henry, I was wrong! "I shouldn't have scored so high! I really didn't mean to refuse to take the exam for you! "Please don't send me back to the fighting ring! "Don't worry! I swear I'll never tell anyone about what you do with men at bars! Please just let me go!" My parents were heartbroken for him. They slapped me over and over while shouting. "It's one thing for you to fool around out there, but how could you bully your brother too? "Thank goodness this was the SAT test, so you couldn't force him to take it for you! Otherwise, you would've ruined his entire future!" My girlfriend immediately dumped me and got together with him instead. She said she wanted to make it up to him on my behalf. As soon as the interview aired, videos of me fooling around with other men in bars spread everywhere online. Before long, all my personal information was exposed. Enraged netizens lured me into a remote forest in the hills. "Are you this desperate? Stay here and reflect on yourself!" I was coiled by a lethally venomous snake. The pain was unbearable. My parents clearly knew what had happened, yet they refused to save me. "It's just a small snake. You're not going to die! "You're not allowed to come home until your brother starts college!" On the day of our high school graduation party, my brother and his girlfriend received acceptance letters from the country's best college, along with a notebook I had sent them.

During my senior-year internship, I opened my family's entire gemstone mine for my classmates to dig and collect from. However, Keith Coburn shamelessly stole my identity as a wealthy scion and claimed the mine belonged to his family instead. After I exposed his lies, he shoved me straight off the cliff. I begged the girl I'd supported for help. Unfortunately, she chose to stand by Keith's side rather than save me. She even delivered the final blow herself. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the moment Keith pushed me off the cliff. This time, I immediately called my fiercely protective father for help. I'd like to see how long Keith could keep up this rich scion act once my father arrived.

After my SATs are over, I go to the office block with my poverty certificate to apply for a school loan. The staff member glances at my paperwork before turning my application down coldly. "To think that you're already swindling loans from the government at such a young age! High-income families like yours aren't lacking in the money department at all!" At first, I think this is just a misunderstanding. That is, until the staff member passes me the information on my parents. "Your parents have a villa worth 20 million dollars in the city center, whereas your younger brother goes to an elite academy that costs 800 thousand dollars' worth of tuition fees per year! "Tell me, how can someone from your family be eligible to apply for a school loan?" I'm stunned, to say the least. The entire village has raised me since young. For the past 18 years, I've been the only child of an extremely impoverished family. Little do I know that my parents have already formed another family of their own in the city…

When Mom punishes me, her palms are sweaty. I know she's even more nervous than I am. She's scared that others will accuse her of favoring me. When the rest of my classmates perform poorly in class, all she does is tell them to review the lesson and do a few more exercises. But when I'm the one who does badly, she points at the field outside the window. Despite the burning midday heat of June, she commands, "Julia Swanson! You're going to stand out on the field and memorize all the words you messed up. You're not allowed to come back in until you know everything by heart!" Everyone in the classroom looks at me. One of my classmates mutters, "Ms. Campbell is being way too hard on her own daughter." Mom hears that comment, and her eyes flash with satisfaction. That's precisely what she wants everyone to see. No one will dare say she's biased toward me if she punishes me the most harshly out of all the students. "Why are you still here?" she barks at me. "Get out. You think you can get into a top college with grades like yours?" The classmate sitting next to me tugs on my sleeve and whispers, "Why don't you try asking her to go easier on you? It's blazing hot outside." I shake my head. The most futile thing I can ever do is ask Mom to go easier on me in school. She prides herself on her professionalism as a teacher. It's a matter of principle to her. But she has forgotten that it's over 104 degrees Fahrenheit outside. Not wanting to disappoint her, I stand out in the sun. The blazing hot air dries up my sweat—and my tears. Eventually, my vision goes blurry. The world seems to spin around me… As I collapse onto the ground, I hear Mom tell her colleague, "I'll just get a popsicle as a gesture and bring that stubborn daughter of mine back inside later." She has no idea that I won't be able to accept her olive branch anymore.

I'm born with severe allergies, the kind where a whiff of pollen can trigger a full-blown asthma attack. But my mom, who is also the principal of my school, insists that I go on a field trip to the botanical garden with the rest of my class. I plead with her, my eyes reddened, but she stays as cold and hard as ice. "You've got all your meds, don't you? It's just a little thing. Why are you being so dramatic? I'm the principal, so I have to treat every student the same. If anything, you have even more reason to go, so people don't think I'm playing favorites!" To show what a good relationship I have with my classmates, she publicly commands me to get into the flowerbeds and pick flowers to be given to the top student in our grade, Rachel White. The moment I get close to the flowers, I start coughing and wheezing violently. A crushing sense of suffocation floods over me. Mom doesn't look worried in the slightest. Instead, she bites out, "Penelope, how long are you going to keep this act going? You're doing this on purpose to cause trouble for me and embarrass me, aren't you?" She has no idea that my throat is already swelling and closing up. Every breath I take feels like I'm swallowing broken glass. It looks like I won't be a problem for her anymore.

My answers were a 100% match with my younger brother, Jacob Scott's, answers for 20 consecutive major exams. No matter how fast I completed my exam papers, he would always manage to complete his one second ahead of me. My class teacher had talked about this to me three times, and I was given a warning for cheating. When my classmates saw me, they said, "Hey, copycat, did you get caught again?" How could our answers be the same when I had never touched his papers at all? This continued until our SATs, when I suddenly saw a live chat overlay floating in the air. [Jacob is the chosen one. It must feel great for him to suddenly have the power to read minds! [He's been getting all the right answers by reading Jonah's mind. It doesn't matter that Jonah is a genius when he's relegated to a stepping stone for Jacob's road to success!] When I read through the exam papers, I started humming the alphabet song, "A, B, C, D, E, F, G…"

I'm Julian Johnson, and I love cake. My mommy, Charlotte Davis, brings me a small cake every day after work. My daddy, Peter Johnson, buys a full set of ovens and baking tools. For my sake, he then patiently learns how to bake cakes. I use to think I'm the luckiest kid in the world. That is, until the day my parents get divorced, and the man who comes to pick up Mommy turns out to be the bakery owner, Larry Patterson. Daddy suddenly whips around and glares at me with bloodshot eyes. "This is all your fault! If it weren't for you and your constant cake cravings, your mother never would've had an affair!" He stretches out his burn-scarred hands and shrieks hysterically, "My hands have never been free of wounds, all because I kept making cakes for you. But how do you two repay me? You're both convinced that whatever comes from outside tastes better!" Daddy strikes me hard with the baking tray. I bite my lip tightly, not daring to cry out. That night, Daddy brings home a little boy, Dustin Decker. Despite the pain racking my body, I drop to my knees and plead for Daddy to forgive me. "Daddy, I'm sorry. Please don't abandon me. I promise I'll never eat cake again!" Daddy slaps me several times in fury. Then, still not satisfied, he throws me into the large oven. "Don't call me that! I'm not your father! If you love cake so much, then stay in there and think about what you've done! You and your tramp of a mother both deserve to die!" After Daddy slams the door and leaves, Dustin skips cheerfully over to the oven and smugly presses the switch. "From now on, your daddy is mine!" The oven starts up. The temperature climbs around me, and yet I smile. Maybe this is for the best. At least Daddy can finally be happy now.

While we're shopping for college supplies, my younger brother, Reuben Whitaker, picks up a limited-edition gaming bedding set and grins at Mom. She doesn't even glance at the price before putting it in the cart. When it's my turn, I barely pick up a charcoal-gray bedding set when my older sister, Cheryl Whitaker, frowns. "Garrett, why do you always choose such gloomy colors? You need to be more upbeat like Reuben," she scolds. My childhood friend, Phoebe Thorpe, smiles as well. "No one at the dorm knows you anyway, so buying something new will be a waste," she says. Reuben glances at the sheets in my hands and quietly suggests, "Garrett, why don't you use my old set? You never cared about things like that anyway." Mom immediately nods in agreement. "Garrett, you don't need new sheets. Besides, putting two sons through college isn't easy." My grip slowly tightens around the set. I remember Reuben's old bedding. The corners are covered in pills, and the fabric is stained with soda he spills during his late-night gaming sessions. It has always been this way. I get the designer sneakers he no longer wants, the backpacks he's grown tired of, and the bedroom he doesn't like. If I don't complain or fight him for anything, my turn will eventually come. At least that's what I think. But even after 18 years, their only response is, "You never cared about things like that anyway." At the register, I watch Mom pay for Reuben's things one by one before casually tossing my charcoal-gray sheets back onto the shelf. It's then that my lips curl into a smile. As it turns out, no one has ever bothered to remember what I like. I pick up the charcoal-gray sheets again. This time, I won't put them back.

The night before our SAT, I tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Suddenly, my phone screen lit up. I received a text from an unknown number. [Tomorrow at 6:30 a.m.. Leaving for the testing center. Your sister disappears.] I stared at the screen, my heart jolting. I did have a twin sister, Molly Young, and we were both scheduled to take the test the next day. But what a pathetic prank. I tossed my phone aside, turned over, and went back to sleep. The next morning, we had barely left the driveway when Molly suddenly cried out beside me. “Oh no, I forgot my admission ticket.” “Dad, pull over! I need to go back and get it.”

My sister, Cindy Gardner, and I are fraternal twins. She gets to be the elder sister because she comes out one minute before me, making me the younger brother. Luckily, there's little difference between us when it comes to intelligence. Throughout our school years, one of us always ranks first, and the other comes in second. But after three years of competing in high school, with me coming in second every time, I calmly agree to keep her secret about dating a delinquent named Rodney Sloan. Then the guaranteed-admission spots to Belton University, the country's top university, become available. Our homeroom teacher calls Cindy and me into her office. "There are two guaranteed-admission spots. They're awarded based on grades, and the two of you are next in line. "Fill out this form." I nod and quickly fill out the entire form. Just as I'm about to hand it over to her, Cindy, who is standing quietly beside us, suddenly moves. She snatches my form, tears it to pieces, and tosses the scraps into the air. "If you want me to take the guaranteed spot, there's one condition—Rodney has to get in with me." I laugh in disbelief. What a complete idiot. Mom and Dad are going to tear her apart for this.

Right as college acceptance letters went out, my golden boy of a brother, Bill Cyrus, spread a rumor that I stole his spot at Braxton University. His only proof was a single paparazzi shot of me standing outside the university gates. Of course, my parents believed him. To protect Bill's precious reputation, they forced me to take the fall. They even threatened to lock me away in an internet-addiction center for good to erase their embarrassment of their younger son—the one who dropped out and ran wild for a year. Watching my own family line up to tear me apart over one massive lie, the last scrap of hope I had for them shattered completely. I stopped holding back. I watched, ice-cold, as they dug their own graves. Let's see exactly how someone who couldn't even clear the cutoff for an average state school planned to prove he got into the best university in the country.

Dad is my homeroom teacher. He loves using me to assert his authority. He firmly believes that the more I suffer, the more the other students will fear him, which, in turn, gives him more authority. When I help my classmate pass an eraser to their friend, Dad slaps me in front of everyone until my face is swollen. When I sneak a bite of my friend's leftover chips after class is over, he drags me to the podium and pokes my lips with needles until I'm bleeding profusely. Later, the school's head of discipline, Mary Milner, catches a pair of students dating on school grounds. Dad insists that I'm one of the culprits. He doesn't even give me a chance to defend myself and drags me to the hallway and strips me of my clothes. He then heads to Mary's office and says with a smile, "My apologies, Ms. Milner. It's my fault for failing to raise Zack properly. Don't worry. I'll definitely teach him a lesson he won't forget this time!" Mary frowns and asks, "Zack Curtis? He's not involved in this dating incident." Dad is briefly stunned before he nonchalantly says, "It doesn't matter. I'll still punish him as a warning to the others. Besides, Zack always breaks the rules. He has already received countless punishments. What's one more?" However, Dad doesn't know that every time he punishes me, I secretly deduct a point from him in my heart. I've already deducted a total of 100 points. I make my way to the hallway on the sixth floor and jump out of the window without hesitation. I wonder if my death will be enough to assert Dad's authority.