เรื่องสั้นแนว Familial Bond และนิยาย Bias Face Slapping

Housing prices collapsed. My parents ran a real estate business. They and their long-time family friend, the Goodwin family, went into bankruptcy. My parents had me and my younger sister draw lots to decide who would marry into the Goodwin family to fulfill an old engagement. In my previous life, I drew the short stick. From that moment, I became a slave to both families. During the day, I needed to work to pay off the Goodwin family’s debt. At night, I needed to deliver food to cover my parents’ financial losses. I survived on scraps and slept in the cold. I continued to work even when I coughed up blood. That day, I went all out and finally secured a multimillion-dollar business deal. My heart burst with excitement. I was eager to tell them the good news. Across the street, I saw my parents get off a Rolls-Royce with wide grins. They dressed up in luxury brands from head to toe. Then, I saw my husband, Alfred, gently wrap one of his arms around my glamorous sister’s shoulder. I wanted to rush over and question them. But a speeding truck slammed into me and sent me flying away. I lay in a pool of blood while staring at them indignantly. I heard them chuckle softly. “What a pity… She was so close to enjoying a good life.” When I opened my eyes again, I returned to the day I drew the lots. Since they liked to pretend to be broke, I would make it a reality!

On a stormy night during the apocalypse, my own mother threw me out of the house while I was burning with fever, along with my husky, so my little brother would have a better chance of surviving. She shouted through the crack in the door, “Take that useless mutt and go die somewhere. Stop wasting your brother’s food!” I huddled in a pile of trash with my dog in my arms, convinced I was going to die. Then my husky suddenly spoke. “Host’s vital signs critically low. Infinite Supply Search System activated.” “Supermarket warehouse one hundred meters ahead. Three thousand freeze-dried meals detected.” “Pharmacy five hundred meters to the left. Five hundred boxes of antibiotics detected.” Three days later, I’d built a fortress with packs of dogs and mountains of supplies. I sat inside eating steak and watching the show. Outside the barbed wire, my mother and brother were on their knees, fighting each other over half a piece of moldy bread. I smiled. “Mom, even dogs wouldn’t eat that. Better savor it.”

My sister, Winona Clarke, was stabbed to death by a thug in order to save me. My mom, Amber Green, does not want my nephew, Sonny Cohen, to suffer. So, she suggests that I marry my brother-in-law, Kenneth Cohen, and take care of the father and son. For Sonny's safety, I end up on the verge of death due to Kenneth's relentless and merciless torture. Just then, Winona, who should have been dead, returns! Her arm linked with a millionaire's, she boasts to me, "Thank you for putting up with that maniac and sticking around until he died. Not only did you help me raise Sonny, who has Super Male Syndrome, but you even made it possible for me to inherit all of Kenneth's assets through Sonny." Sonny joins Winona in belittling me and even spreads rumors that I killed Kenneth. Because of her lies, I become notorious online and eventually die while being the subject of everyone's criticism and ridicule. The heavens must have taken mercy on me, for I am granted a second chance at life. Now, I am back to the day Mom wants me to marry Kenneth.

The day the pack strength assessment results dropped, everyone was cheering for my twin sister, Lyra, who scored an A-rank. My childhood friend Kaelen, the future Alpha of our Stone Pack, affectionately threw his arm around Lyra’s shoulders. "Why not just stay here? I'll make sure you're well taken care of, Lyra." My older brother Liam quickly chimed in. "Don't listen to him. You're coming with me to the Silvermoon Pack, obviously." Our parents smiled and agreed. "With you two looking out for Lyra, we can rest easy." It took them a long time to finally remember me. "Carrie, your rank is garbage. Just pick some minor pack around Silvermoon," Liam muttered without even looking up. "Right. That way, we'll all be in the same territory, which will make things easier." Kaelen scolded me out of habit. "There's only half an hour before the confirmation terminals close. Don't dawdle." I gazed at the S-rank result displayed on my phone screen and said absolutely nothing. Growing up, Lyra had always been the princess everyone doted on. Liam and Kaelen were her loyal knights. And I was forever just her backdrop. Even when I became the only S-rank wolf, no one cared. Since that was the case, without hesitation, I chose the Bloodmoon Pack—the farthest and most powerful pack from home.

I was severely allergic to shrimp. Even touching the broth could make it hard for me to breathe. They used to treat me like a fragile little princess no one could touch. So there was never seafood at home, and even relatives were reminded before each family gathering. Then my little sister was born, and everything changed. Shrimp became her favorite food. She kept asking Mom to make it for her. That was the first time Mom snapped at me. "Can't you just stay away from it? Do you really have to make your sister unhappy?" Dad only shut the kitchen door and handed me a mask. But on the day of Dad's promotion dinner, I accidentally ate shrimp hidden inside a puff pastry. My throat tightened. I clutched my neck and ran to Mom for help, my face turning purple. But Mom flung my hand away, her voice cold as ice. "Today is an important day for your father. What stunt are you trying to pull now? "Do you think everyone has to revolve around you? Go back to your room!" She shoved me into my bedroom, slammed the door, and locked it. I did not even have the strength to call for help. All I could hear was the sound of people outside clinking glasses and offering congratulations, while my fingernails scraped bloody marks into the door.

I'm afflicted with a severe phobia related to socializing. Christmas is the one holiday that I fear the most. In order to escape from my relatives' incessant questions, I've spent one year digging up dirty laundry related to every single person in my family. Before going home for the holidays, I've made a secret vow that as long as my relatives don't disturb me, I will definitely keep those skeletons of theirs sealed tightly in their closets. But at the Christmas Eve dinner, these relatives insist on making me their personal doormat. My oldest uncle, Adam Burton, is the first one to start a topic in a passive-aggressive manner. "Hannah, you're not getting any younger, you know. It's one thing to not be able to nail down a job, but what's with your inability to find yourself a boyfriend, hmm? "Look at Quinn. The moment she'd graduated from college, she'd already married a rich scion." I can only smile bashfully before I lower my head and start eating from my plate in an attempt to skip the topic. But my second aunt, Zoe Brown, refuses to let it slide. She begins putting on airs as a senior member of this family while lecturing me. "Stop being so stubborn, Hannah. Adam is doing this for your own good. We're a family at the end of the day; we will never hurt you. You have to listen to our advice. Otherwise, you'll become an old and lonely woman that no one wants as a partner when the time comes." Pfft! "We're a family", she says! I think these relatives of mine just don't want me to live a nice, comfortable life as a single woman! Unable to endure it anymore, I put down my fork and lift my head. Then, I flash everyone an awkward smile. "In that case, Aunt Zoe, why don't you tell me who's more impressive in bed? Was it Uncle Caleb… or Uncle Adam? "Since we're a family, we should be honest with each other, right?"

The day a Category 5 hurricane struck, my younger brother, Ryan Bennett, suddenly disappeared. Without hesitation, my parents, Daniel and Emily Bennett, dragged me out into the hurricane to search for him. I barely survived the monstrous storm, but my parents never came back. When the rescue team finally found Ryan, they discovered that he had been playing video games the entire time in the glass room on the top floor. I furiously confronted him, but he couldn’t have cared less. “You’re the one who chose to go out and look for me! “Use your brain! Why would I ever go outside during a hurricane?” Enraged, I rushed at him and hit him, but he shoved me off the rooftop with his own hands. “Stop blaming me! If you’d stopped Mom and Dad from going out that day, they wouldn’t have died! “Since you’re so devoted to our parents, go atone for their deaths!” I fell from the rooftop, and everything went black. When I opened my eyes again, I was back two hours before the hurricane made landfall. Dad had already put on his raincoat and was preparing to go out. Mom was putting on her shoes by the door, desperately tugging at my arm as tears streamed down her face. “Hurry! The wind is getting stronger! We have to find Ryan!” The next second, I yanked my arm free. “I’m not going!” Since Ryan claimed he never asked us to look for him, I wouldn’t look for him this time. I’d like to see just how long he can last in that glass room with a Category 5 hurricane bearing down on him.

The year I started middle school, my parents solemnly handed my sister and me each a bank card. "This is your college fund. There's 100,000 dollars in each one. The password is your birthday. Don't touch it unless it's truly an emergency." I listened. I treated that card like a treasure. I never bought a single new piece of clothing. Even my worn-out canvas shoes got patched with glue and worn again. I thought that if I was just responsible enough, I'd live up to my parents' idea of "fairness." Then, after the SATs ended, I wanted to use the money on the card for a graduation trip with my classmates. Instead, the ATM screen flashed a number that burned my eyes: [Balance: $0.00]. At that very moment, my sister posted photos on her social media of a first-class ticket to Iceland. It hit me then. Two identical cards, and only hers had ever held real money. For six straight years, my parents had played a worthless card to string me along — buying my youth, my obedience, my very self. If they couldn't keep things from tipping over, then I'd tear it all down myself. With my own two hands.

When my dad was diagnosed with cirrhosis, my husband was indifferent. "That illness is a bottomless money pit. We'll end up broke with nothing to show for it." My dad happened to hear every word. That night, he quietly left behind his entire life savings and bought a one-way train ticket back to his hometown alone. A week later, at the dinner table, my husband suddenly pushed a medical report in front of me, his voice tight with panic. "My dad has liver problems, too! Hurry and get him in to see the best specialist in the city!" I stared at him, my heart turning to ice. But on the surface, I showed nothing, nodding without hesitation. "Of course. If he's sick, we should get him the best doctor and make sure he receives the best care possible."

The night before the Northbridge Graduate Admissions Exam, my aunt Brenda brought her daughter to our home for dinner. The girl turned the house upside down, and I tolerated one disaster after another. During dinner, I left my phone on the table while I went to the bathroom. When I returned, Aunt Brenda smiled and handed it back to me. "Put this away before you lose it." I thought nothing of it. The next morning at the airport, an agent told me my flight had been changed to the following day. My mind went blank. In my deleted messages, I found the rebooking verification code from the night before. I returned home in shock and found Aunt Brenda waiting with her daughter. "Since you were already traveling to Bellhaven, I moved your flight so you could take Kayla to her father tomorrow. "I'll reimburse the airfare. No need to thank me." I shook with anger. "Aunt Brenda, if I leave tomorrow, I'll miss the exam." She dismissed me with a wave. "What exam could matter more than family? It's only an admissions test. Take it next time. "I already offered to cover the ticket. That's almost a thousand dollars. Why are you so ungrateful?" As I looked at her entitled expression, my anger suddenly became calm. "All right, Aunt Brenda," I said with a cold smile. "You're the one who asked me to take her."

I have a congenital heart defect, and the doctors say I won't make it past 18. When I am ten, my parents bring home a blind child, saying she is my twin sister, Everly Wallace. My family spoils me rotten, but they treat Everly like a ghost. Everyone says Everly exists only to give me her heart. I try so hard to be good to this sister who shares my face, desperate to ease my guilt. When I reach 18, I lie on the operating table. Except they don't take my heart. They take my corneas. I die after that, while Everly finally sees the light.

I've devoted everything to sponsoring my deceased best friend's daughter, Lara Sandfield, so that she can learn dancing for the past ten years. Thanks to my efforts, she's able to get into the most prestigious art school. My only condition is that Lara has to wear the dress that was sewn by her mother, Kiara Cruz, prior to her death, when it's time for Lara to perform her first dance after her graduation. But on the day of the rehearsal, Lara actually starts a livestream and cuts the dress into shreds with a pair of scissors. Tears trickle down her cheeks as she accuses me of using this torn, old dress to humiliate her and guilt-trip her for the past ten years. "Look, everyone! This is Eliza's so-called 'blood, sweat, and tears'! She wants me to perform my first dance in this bunch of rags! "I'm the principal dancer who has been nominated by a prestigious director! If I were to perform in this dress, it'd ruin my future! I no longer owe Eliza anything!" As I stare at the derogatory comments aimed at me in the livestream, I leave a like there quietly. The dress that Lara has ruined is actually woven by Kiara using gold threads back when she was still alive. The internationally-renowned mentor, whom I've spent a fortune hiring for the past ten years, is actually my older sister, Lucy Newman, who has already retired for many years. Meanwhile, the prestigious dance director has only given Lara the position of principal dancer because she respects Lucy far too much. I leave a comment of my own in the livestream. "I hope you have a glorious future ahead of you." I wonder how Lara can continue dancing, now that she's lost everything in life.

My sister was known by everyone as the serene, untouchable type. On the day of her background review, the investigators asked her to submit additional disclosures about her parents' associations. She turned them down flat. "My family has served in public office for three generations, and our record is spotless. Being asked to cooperate with this kind of investigation is an insult to my character. "If getting in means giving away all my family's privacy, then I'd rather not have the job." Everyone in the room thought she had real backbone and a clean family name. The investigators awkwardly closed their notebooks, ready to mark her as "Withdrawn by candidate." I was standing by the door when a line of floating text suddenly drifted above my head— [She's withdrawing?! LOL. That's the only general-management slot in this year's federal recruitment—permanent appointment on day one, relocation to the capital, subsidized housing, great schools for your kids, and a guaranteed track into a core policy division in three years! If she doesn't want it, I'm going for it!] My eyes locked on "permanent appointment" and "subsidized housing," and my fingers tightened around my backpack strap. I walked into the office. "Excuse me. If she withdraws, does the replacement rule mean it's my turn?"

A priest has shown up at my first birthday party. He claims that I'm a cursed soul—that my presence will bring doom to those close to me, and my existence itself can snatch everyone's luck. The only way to counter this is to give me up to an orphanage and let me live a life of poverty and suffering. Without a family, I'll be able to overcome my fate as a cursed soul. Daddy has the priest cast out of our home immediately. Meanwhile, Mommy hugs me tightly. "My son is the luckiest boy in the whole wide world!" But everything has changed when my younger brother, Andy Lawson, has fallen off the 20th floor. His body is completely shattered from the fall. I can only stand by the window uneasily. Fear is evident in my eyes as I wave my hands with all my might. "It wasn't me! It really wasn't me!" The wind that day is very strong, but it can never drown out Mommy's cries. Daddy hoists me up and stuffs me into Andy's coffin. I keep latching onto the sides of the coffin to the point my fingers are all bloodied and trampled over. At the same time, I keep screaming for Mommy. Mommy stares at me blankly at first. But her hollow gaze is soon filled with hatred. "Why aren't you the one dead? That priest told us that you'll have to stay in the coffin for seven whole days and nights just to atone for your sins! Only then can Andy's soul rest in peace! "This is your fate and your sin, Adam!" The heavy lid slowly covers the coffin, soon sealing my hoarse cries and screams away. A long time later, a few voices ring out amid the sorrowful melody played by the organ. "Why is there a tiny gap in the coffin? Hurry up and nail it shut! We can't afford to have misfortune spread to us!" When the final nail is bolted onto the lid, I close my eyes. Mommy, Daddy, I'm no longer a cursed soul.

In the third year of my wolf decay, I was dying. It was a rare condition. I wanted to donate my body to research. I called my mother, three years since I'd last seen her, and asked her to sign the donation consent form. Without her signature, there'd be no one to handle my remains. She was busy with work. "Are you really making up something like this just to get attention?" she snapped. But I begged, and she gave a cold laugh and agreed. "What a miserable thing to deal with. You better actually be dying." Later, my wolf heart ended up on her dissection table. And that woman, who had nothing but contempt for me, actually killed three people for me.

The day my father was diagnosed with liver cancer, I took out the cash gift I had received from my wedding to cover the emergency costs. The bank teller counted the amount multiple times. At that moment, I learned that out of the twenty thousand dollars cash gift Peter Grant’s family had given me a year ago, eighteen thousand dollars were counterfeit. I went home with the fake money to demand an explanation. My mother-in-law, Deborah, stepped on my father’s picture and called him a worthless man who deserved to die. Peter refused to divorce me. He demanded that I pay back the twenty thousand dollars in cash before he would agree to the divorce. When I refused, he started a live stream. He held up my undergarments for tens of thousands of viewers to see. “Look at what my wife is wearing. Is she trying to save her dad, or is she trying to seduce him? “We’ve been married for a whole year, and she hasn’t even given me a single child. Now she wants a divorce? This is marriage fraud. She scammed us out of the cash gift!” The comments section hurled insults at me. Someone threw dung on our front porch. Someone even edited my family’s faces onto old-fashioned funeral portraits and posted them online. The whole internet said my family deserved to die. What they did not know was that when that money was put into the safe, the whole thing had been caught on camera. The security seals on the cash bundles were covered in Peter’s family’s fingerprints. They also did not know that I had picked up the wrong medical report. The one with cancer was not my father. It was actually Deborah. Later, Peter knelt on the floor begging me to give him some money to save his mother. I kicked his hand away and said coldly, “I still have your counterfeit eighteen thousand dollars. I’ll give it all back to you. Is that enough to cremate your mother?”

My mom, Olivia Taylor, is a selfless and devoted teacher who is admired by everyone at school. But I know better. When I apply for financial aid, she tells me that other students need the money more than I do and says I should learn to care for my classmates. When I win a writing competition, she awards the prize money to Myra Davis, the girl who has made my life a misery, and tells me not to get too full of myself. When I submit my college applications, she secretly rewrites them and offers the spot to the same girl. In the end, Myra pushes me from a rooftop. Mom says I am rotten to the core and deserve to be taught a lesson. Then she marries into Myra's family and becomes her stepmother. When I open my eyes again, I find myself reborn on the very day I apply for financial aid.

On my eighteenth birthday, my three adoptive brothers gave me a present—a stray she-wolf. My eldest brother, Caine, said her obedience might finally tame my vicious temper. Rhael said her delicate nature would make my rough strength stand out even more. Lucian said her beauty might distract everyone from how plain I was. But that she-wolf had only one ambition: to become a Luna. When a blind Alpha from a distant pack came seeking a bride, she volunteered to marry him in my place. She never made it. Worn down by the grueling journey, she died along the way. My brothers were consumed by grief. When an enemy pack attacked, they threw me into the enemy ranks with their own hands. I stared at them in disbelief. Caine accused me, “You knew Sophia might die. That’s why you let her take your place without a second thought!” Rhael glared at me with hatred. “You love throwing your status around and bullying others, don’t you? Today, you’ll learn what it feels like to be completely at someone else’s mercy!” Lucian turned to the wolves around us and ordered, “No one helps her. I want her to know what it feels like to be abandoned by everyone!” When I died, there wasn’t enough left of my body to piece together. Then I opened my eyes—and found myself back on the day Sophia volunteered to marry in my place. Remembering how my three brothers had shielded her behind them in my previous life, I smiled. “Father, I’ll marry him.” Father frowned. “Knox is blind and brutal. Are you sure?” “I’m sure.” Since my brothers couldn’t bear to part with Sophia, they could stay with her forever.

After the scores are out, I head home with my results slip, which indicates that I'm a top scorer in the entire city. My heart's brimming with excitement as I'm ready to share the good news with my family. I'm about to push the door open when I unexpectedly receive a video call from my future self from four years later. The me on the screen looks utterly haggard. I freeze for a moment, but I still can't stop myself from chirping like a child who's asking for a piece of candy, "Are you really me four years from now? Are Mom and Dad finally proud of me? Do they love me as much as they love my sister now?" My future self smiles, yet she can't keep her tears at bay. "Whatever you do, don't tell them your score! They won't be proud of you. They'll only use your sister's failure to get into college and her threats to end her own life as an excuse to force you to give up your place at college for her!" All of a sudden, I feel as though I've plunged into an icy abyss. On the day I reunite with my family, Mom and Dad take my younger sister, Winona Fairchild, out for fine dining while they hand me a plate of stone-cold leftovers. They tell me that after years of fending for myself, my stomach's too weak to handle anything too fancy. Naively, I believe that if I become good enough, I can bridge that ten-year gap and make them look at me the same way they look at Winona. As it turns out, blood ties can never outweigh years of companionship. As I listen to Mom and Dad comfort Winona over her poor performance on the exam, I fold my results slip neatly and tuck it deep into my pocket. Since they only view me as a cash cow, I have no reason to tell them that I've been accepted into Pennington College.

In my family, everything was decided by a blind box draw. Even on the day my twin sister and I were born, my parents used a blind box to decide who would be the older and younger sibling. My sister, who was born four minutes before me, drew 'The Beloved Little Daughter'. I drew 'The Responsible Elder Sister'. For 18 years, my parents would place two blind boxes in front of us for everything—from picking our bedrooms and clothes to deciding who got the chicken drumstick. I always ended up drawing things like 'Clean the Entire House' or 'Eat the Chicken Wing Tips'. Meanwhile, my sister always got 'The Latest Princess Dress' or 'Secret Edition: Family Vacation'. Whenever I felt upset, my parents would always say, “That’s fate. Whatever the blind box gives you, you have to accept.” That was until my 18th birthday. My parents brought out the blind boxes again. This time, I drew 'The Right to Attend College'. My younger sister, the girl who had been spoiled and cherished her entire life, drew 'Work in a Factory'.