Melodramatic Biological Family 단편 소설 & 소설

After the college entrance exam, my sweet, well-behaved daughter suddenly turned into a monster. She stabbed the grandmother who had raised her with her own hands over and over again, leaving her to bleed to death. She threw her little brother, who had always adored her, straight off the tenth floor. My husband and I were horrified. We begged her to stop, our voices shaking. But she only laughed like a maniac. “Grandma and my brother were too good to me. That's exactly why they had to die! “And you two worked yourselves to the bone to support me, pay for my schooling, and give me a good life. You were good to me too. “So you have to die as well!” Then she set the house on fire with my husband and me still inside. I closed my eyes, furious and unwilling to accept it. But when I opened them again, I found myself back one week before my daughter's college entrance exam. This time, I secretly installed a camera in her room. No matter what it took, I was going to uncover the truth behind why she'd murdered our entire family. But when my husband and I finally saw what the camera had recorded, neither of us could say a word.

After watching my mother’s marriage fall apart disastrously, I somehow went back ten years into the past and ran into my mother’s younger self. My mother had asked me excitedly, “Zoe, after your dad’s undercover operation ended, did he give me a wedding? Like, was it churchy or more modern? Did we end up in that nice house with the big backyard?” I forced down the lump in my throat and answered her, “There was no wedding. You didn’t get a house either. As for Dad… he married someone else.” My mother was silent for a long time. I thought she did not believe me, so I grew anxious and said, “Mom, you need to leave him now. If you stay, your life will fall apart. “He has a daughter named Melody, who turned out to be my classmate. He was never an undercover agent. He’s actually the heir of Xanders Group in Harbor City. He’s been lying to you this whole time and pretending to be broke just to string you along. “Melody’s mom eventually found out about you. You lost your job and home. In the end, you fell into depression and took your own life.” I noticed my mother’s eyes welling up in tears. “Today’s Children’s Day, right? You probably saw Dad taking some woman and her daughter to a theme park, didn’t you? “Go talk to that woman. Ask her about it. Then, you’ll learn the truth.”

My little brother, Rylan, wanted to go to the park. However, Dad told me to keep an eye on him and make sure he didn't wander off. So, Rylan said he wanted to play hide-and-seek at home with me, and I agreed. Unfortunately, I couldn't find him after he hid. I searched everywhere for him. I looked through all three floors of the house and even searched the yard. At the time, I just thought that Rylan had found an incredible hiding spot. It wasn't until that evening that our neighbor brought him home with the police. Only then did I realize that Rylan had slipped out of the house while I'd been counting with my eyes covered. Terrified that Dad would find out he'd snuck off to play, Rylan threw his arms around Dad's leg and burst into tears. "Dad, Caleb threw me out of the house!" Dad flew into a rage and slapped me across the face. "How could you be so cruel? Your brother is only five years old! You told me he was playing hide-and-seek with you. You rotten liar!" But Dad... I was only seven. I tried to explain, but Dad never believed another word I said. From that day on, I ranked lower than even the chauffeur in our house. Every day, I was fed spoiled leftovers and forced to sleep in the doghouse. When I was 12, a bad woman kidnapped me and made me call Dad for ransom money. All I got in return was his furious voice yelling over the phone. "You rotten liar! You really will say anything for money, even something like this. If they won't let you live without it, then go ahead and die." The woman was so furious that she kicked me off the unfinished balcony of an abandoned building. I hit the ground, and my body was splattered beyond recognition. Before I even had a chance to feel the pain, I found myself drifting upward. Dad… I hadn't been lying.

My family had always prioritized fairness, because my brother and sister were twins and would start fighting if our parents so much as showed a hint of favoritism. That was why they always had equal portions for them—one for John, the other for Jane. "What about me?" I asked my mother, only to get yelled at. "Can you stop?! We already have our hands full with your twin siblings!" Later, my father bought a six-seater for our family of five. However, when the family headed out for a trip, the remaining two seats were taken by Jane's pet dog and John's pet cat. As I stood outside gingerly under the rain, Jane glared at me warily while shouldering her dog, while John snorted. "We agreed to be fair. No one gets to take my cat's seat." My father shot me a look of annoyance. "Don't you have better things to do?" I was shivering from the cold, but I smiled at him nonetheless. "Yeah, I won't be joining you guys." After that, I submitted my national athlete application to my counselor, Mr. Ackles. If there was no fairness for me even after twenty years, I had no reason to stay.

My husband, Caleb Jones, and I both had our issues. I was possessive, while he liked seeing me angry. He said emotion was proof of love. You only got angry when you loved someone. So he was always doing things just to get under my skin. I hated that he stayed in touch with his first love, Maya Stone. He went and arranged for Maya to work directly under him. I repeatedly told him they were not to meet in private. He went on a date with her anyway, then made a point of telling me about it. I couldn't stand the smell of cigarettes clinging to Maya. He brought her home to stay with us for an entire week, making me smell it every single day. I flew into a rage. For the first time, I said I was leaving. Only then did Caleb panic. Desperate to win me back, he stood in the pouring rain all night and said, "I'm sorry," ten thousand times before I finally forgave him. I warned him not to pull anything like that again. If he did, I would never forgive him. But on the day of our family gathering, he still brought Maya with him. He even openly introduced her to my parents. "Mom, Dad, this is my ex-girlfriend, Maya Stone. From now on, the three of us are going to live together. We'll get along just fine, right, honey?" Caleb looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to get angry and lose control all over again, for the intensity of my reaction to prove just how deeply I loved him. But this time, I saw my parents red-faced with anger and my in-laws smiling broadly. Suddenly, all my anger vanished, and so did my love for him. Right there, I scheduled an appointment to file for divorce and calmly told him, "No. Three's a crowd. We're getting a divorce. You can go live with her."

Queenie Zeller, my sister, gets mad at Mom and Dad and sets off a gas canister in the house. They all make it out of the house unharmed, while I suffer severe burns all over my body and lose one of my legs to amputation since I'm fast asleep inside. Mom and Dad spend all day crying their eyes out, right up until Queenie comes home with a boy and a paternity test report. Overnight, I am reduced to the fake heir who's accidentally switched at birth. Just like that, half of the family's guilt vanishes. I barely scrape by until I turn 18. They all head out to the rightful heir's birthday banquet, leaving me lying in bed, twisting and writhing in pain. Mom and Dad are away on a business trip, so no one has helped me change positions for a long time. It has gotten so bad that the wounds on my back have become infested with maggots, making the itch unbearable. I try to turn over on my own, only to end up falling onto the floor. Suddenly, I hear a voice filled with suppressed anger carrying over from the balcony next door. "How long are you going to hide the fact that you fabricated the paternity test from your parents, Queenie?" Queenie snaps, immediately becoming defensive. "Shut up! I brought Nathan back because I wanted to keep our family from falling apart. Do you want me to tell them I lied because I felt guilty? "Where does that leave me, then? How am I supposed to stay in this family? I don't want all of us to spend our whole lives drowning in guilt over Henry! It's just a harmless lie meant to protect everyone!" I lie on the floor, frozen in shock. Is that lie supposed to protect me, then?

My mother kept a red notebook recording all of my sister's favourite things. She had a blue notebook for me too. When my mother was hospitalized, I took leaves from work to take care of her. My sister had never shown up. However, my mother recorded in the blue notebook, '15th March, I am not well and am hospitalized. Celine owed me 450 dollars for food allowance. I knew that was not a notebook about my favourite things, but a notebook of all of my expenses. Behind the closed doors, Mother said to Father, "Celine is an evil person. She always likes to compete with her sister. We must take a chance to steal all her money and leave with Belle. Later when we are old, we will ask her to take care of us. I think we should just ask her to pay us back all the money we spent on her that I have recorded in this notebook. I was devastated at that moment.

When I was having a heart attack, my parents, my brother, and my fiancé were all at our family casino—celebrating Eva, our adopted daughter, at her twenty-first birthday, her official debut into the mafia world. The doctor refused to operate without a legal guardian’s signature. So I called them. My father’s assistant answered. “Sorry, Miss. The Don is in the middle of a toast.” My brother and mother let it ring until it went silent. Finally, my fiancé, Adam, picked up. Music roared behind him. I could hear laughter, glasses clinking. “Cecilia,” he said, impatient. “If you can’t even show up for Eva’s party, stop causing trouble. Today is Eva’s debut. Every Don from three territories is here. Whatever drama you’re playing can wait.” I lost count of how many times they chose her over me. So after this call, I stopped calling. I signed my own name. My family thought I’d finally learned to be obedient. But they should’ve known that in our world, silence only means one thing—I was preparing to disappear for good.

[The story about my son cutting ties with us is all an act. If I hadn’t done that, there’s no way my daughter would have willingly handed over the money!] During the long holiday weekend, I was killing time at my desk when I randomly clicked on a Reddit post. Maybe it was because I also had a younger brother who had cut ties with the family. The night he slammed the door and left, my parents seemed to age ten years overnight. From that day on, I became their only source of support. Every month, I send them five hundred dollars for living expenses. Even when I wasn’t feeling well, I forced myself to work. Meanwhile, the post kept updating. [I raised her for over ten years. What's wrong with spending some of her money? Her brother is still short of fifty thousand dollars for the down payment on his house. We need the money before the holiday ends.] I wanted to keep reading, but my manager called me into a meeting. That evening, while we were having dinner, Mom spoke up, her voice trembling slightly. “Your father and I need to discuss something with you, sweetheart…” My heart skipped a beat. For some reason, the last line from that post flashed through my mind. [I'll just tell her the business is in debt and that we need her money. She's always been a good child. She'll surely do what I ask.] “Mom… you and Dad aren’t in debt, are you?”

My world is simple. Everything has a price. A goodnight hug from Mom costs one dollar. Three minutes of Dad spinning me around in his arms costs five dollars. I keep track of it all in my head, then count out the coins from my bear purse to pay them. Dad calls it "splitting bills". He says it teaches me to be independent and never leech off others. I don't have any friends because I have no idea how to pay for friendship. I'm not scared of monsters in the dark. I'm scared of Dad looking over the bill and saying, "Kevin, you overspent on love today." So, I save every penny I can, hoping to buy more and more love. Then comes the day a stranger offers me a candy wrapped in shiny paper. Out of habit, I ask him how much it is. He says it's free, and I just need to walk with him for a while.

When I'm five, my parents move to the city so my younger sister can go to preschool. They leave me behind in a mountain village with my grandma, who has dementia. Before they go, Dad orders me to take care of Grandma, even though she barely knows where she is, and to look after the house and the yard. Mom tells me I'm the big sister, so I need to be a good girl. She promises that once they have money, they'll bring me to the city too. I don't want them to go, so I cling to Mom's leg and beg her with everything I have. "Mom, please, I don't want to be away from you." Tears and snot run down my face, smearing across her 400-dollar dress. She scolds me for being a brat, spanks me until my bottom swells, and then slaps me hard enough to make my face bleed. In the end, they don't give in, and they never come back. Three months later, when I'm close to starving, I call Mom and beg her for something to eat. She snaps at me, irritated. "All you ever do is whine about being hungry. What kind of girl acts like that? Why don't you just starve to death? How can there be nothing to eat out in the country? "Your dad and I are under so much pressure here in the city. Can't you be a little more grown-up?" Her words come true, and I starve to death in the bitter cold of that December. Five years later, Mom pushes open the rotting front door. "Elsie, I'm home."

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.

A car accident leaves me unconscious for a full three years. When I wake up, my family bursts into tears of joy. They care for me with the utmost attention. But from their behavior, I sense something is wrong. There are women's clothes in the house that don't fit me. My mother's shopping cart is filled with mysterious baby items. My father's friends send congratulatory messages about a new child, and my husband is always working overtime. When my husband once again leaves me alone under the pretext that there is something urgent at the company, I secretly follow him. Inside a warmly decorated house, my parents and husband sit around a table. A woman who looks almost exactly like me is holding a baby just a few months old, gently coaxing the child to call my husband "Daddy".

The day after the new year, during a family gathering, my aunt sneered at me as I worked overtime, reviewing a proposal. "Why are you pretending to be so busy? It’s not like we don’t know you only make three thousand a month. Real money-makers are people like my daughter, a designer so successful she doesn’t even have time to come home!" I ignored her, but she directed her spoiled son to delete all my files while I was in the bathroom. My hands trembled with rage. "This proposal is due in ten minutes—if I don’t submit it, everything is ruined!" She scoffed dismissively. "He’s just a kid. What could he possibly know? Besides, your job isn’t even worth much. If you lose the files, you lose them. Worst case, you get fired." I chuckled coldly but said nothing. She had no idea it was the proposal her daughter had spent an entire month working on. And I was the client who held her daughter’s fate in my hands.

When I was ten, I accidentally overheard my mother on the phone. It seemed like she was talking about me being a switched-at-birth rich girl, and that my real last name was Gardner. The coldness and cruelty my mother had shown me all these years suddenly made sense. When I turned 11, I paid an adult to get a maternity test done for both my mother and me. The results confirmed that I was indeed her biological daughter. I kept the report to myself and pretended I was still in the dark.

When my body was being dismembered, my fiance was helping my cousin choose her wedding dress. When he received my distress call, he said with disgust, "I hope you never come back! You can die with the bastard in your womb! Don't ever call me again. The mentioning of your name makes me sick!" After that, he found a body part of me in a water tank on the rooftop of a hotel. He thought it was a prank, so he actually ordered white lilies and candles to be delivered to my doorstep. Only when he found my head buried in the grass under his feet on the day of our wedding did he realize that it wasn't a prank.

Before our wedding, my fiancée, Sarah Hargrave—a professor of medieval history—held a private ceremony in a secluded chapel in the countryside. But not with me. Under the glow of candlelight, she cradled Benjamin Wheeler—her first love, his face gaunt from the cancer consuming him—in her arms. Her smile was soft, almost reverent, as she murmured, "In the eyes of God, vows made before the altar are the only ones that matter. Even if the law says I belong to Daniel, my soul was never his." And so, to the faint echo of hymns and the scent of old incense, they drank from the same silver cup, exchanged rings, and stepped together into the dimly lit sacristy—their makeshift bridal chamber. I watched. Silent. Motionless. No outbursts, no demands for explanation. Just the quiet dialing of a clinic to undo the vasectomy I'd gotten for our future. From fifteen to thirty, I had loved Sarah for fifteen long years. But in all that time, there'd never been room for me. That space had always belonged to Benjamin, my stepbrother. So I let her go. Afterward, I joined a geological research team bound for the isolation of Antarctica—a land cut off from the world, quiet and clean. Before I left, I handed Sarah a divorce agreement…and a final gift to mark the end. I never anticipated that Sarah, who'd always met my devotion with frosty detachment, who'd never once glanced back as I walked away, would look ten years older overnight.

As my murderer's claws tear into my abdomen inch by inch, my father and brother are seated in our family's banquet hall. They're celebrating Carly's 18th birthday and coming-of-age. "You'll always be my little girl." "Happy birthday, Carly." They light 18 pink candles for her. On top of the exquisite red velvet cake is a wolf figurine that they carved for her, and there are well wishes and laughter all around. Meanwhile, I'm curled up in a sewer filled with liquid silver as I bleed to death. My phone has been crushed, and I can't get out. I can only cry for help. A few days later, my father and brother show up together at the autopsy room. My brother stands by the operating table with a scalpel. He slices open the body and sews it back up like it's nothing. My father just covers his nose as he shoots a disgusted glance at my body. He urges my brother to hurry up with the autopsy report. "The victim is a young female wolf presumed to be of pure lineage. Before her death, she was subjected to prolonged captivity and torture. Her throat is nearly severed, her cervical spine is dislocated, and her chest cavity has collapsed. She was also injected with liquid silver before death." Hearing the report, my father looks so calm that it's just like a case study of no consequence. Neither of them can recognize that the body belongs to me—their daughter and sister!

After my father-in-law, Anthony Randall, has undergone a coronary artery bypass surgery, he decides to visit the company to inspect the new project. I've ordered the project department to prepare a stable, smooth-riding man basket. But what I receive is a dangerous-looking man basket that doesn't have any safety measures installed in it. Anisa Howell, the first love of my husband, Conner Randall, speaks up mockingly at that moment. "Since your junk-collecting dad wants to collect more junk in the construction site, it's only natural that I, the person in charge of this project, hold the fort for Mr. Randall. "Then again, I've always been a soft-hearted person. This man basket might be malfunctioning, but it's perfectly adequate to send you guys to your destination." Realization dawns on me immediately. Anisa must have mistaken Anthony as my actual dad, who works as a farmer in the countryside. I'm about to explain to her that Anthony has just undergone a heart surgery and cannot suffer from any emotional distress caused by any factors, including tall heights. But Anisa quickly commands her workers to shove us into the man basket before pulling down the lever, which will cause it to ascend rapidly. Poor Anthony has gone deathly pale from the fright. He keeps clutching at his chest hopelessly the whole time. But Anisa has the audacity to flaunt her privileges over the walkie-talkie. "I'm a VIP of a bungee-jumping club. Today, I'll let you have a taste of what it feels like to soar through the skies."

When my younger sister, Isla Brown, was diagnosed with a heart disease, the doctor claimed that she would not live past twenty-five. Since then, everyone would repeat the same phrase. “Isla won’t live for much longer. Just let her have her way.” My childhood best friend, Lucian Sterling, threw my birthday cake in the trash. “Isla’s dying soon. She can’t eat any desserts. You should be more considerate.” My older brother, Hugo Brown, tore up my dance academy offer letter. “Isla doesn’t have much longer to live. She can’t dance. If she sees you dance, she’ll be upset. You should think about her feelings.” My fiancé, Liam Anderson, pushed back our wedding ceremony three times. “Isla’s dying soon. She can’t bear to see someone else wearing a wedding gown. You should be more considerate.” I asked them, “Just because she won’t get to have a long life, does that mean I don’t deserve to live my life?” Upon hearing that, my mother went on a hunger strike. She lay next to Isla’s hospital bed. “Since I’ve failed to fulfil Isla’s tiny wishes, I’ll die with her.” On the third day, I made an oath before the hospital ward to never bring up my wedding again. After that, Isla said she wanted to experience what it was like to be in love. My mother said, “Isla doesn’t have much time left. She’s never been in a relationship before. You should give her the chance by letting her have Liam for a few years.” I walked out of the ward. “She may not be able to live long, but I want to live a longer life. I’ve made up my mind. I’m leaving.”