Melodramatic Biological Family Short Stories & Novels

My mother, Winona Barlowe, who was the medical director at the hospital, decided to let my intern sister, Mia Barlowe, practice her skills by performing a brain tumor surgery on me. I begged my mother to assign another doctor since it was my only chance at survival. She slapped me across the face and cried out, "How did I ever give birth to a selfish girl like you? Mia just started her internship. Can’t you give her the chance to practice?" When I died from the botched surgery, she turned gray overnight.

My mother, Yvonne Scott, is a maternal health specialist who has helped countless women safely deliver healthy babies. Her delivery with my older brother goes smoothly, but she suffers a difficult labor with me. After everything she endures to bring me into the world, I'm diagnosed with autism at the age of six. Dad can't accept it, so he leaves her. Mom blames me for derailing her career and destroying her marriage. Even as a kid, I can always see the resentment in her eyes. Over the next two years, she loses me twice. The third time, I watch her burn every trace of my existence. That's why I choose to leave home. 20 years later, I become a child psychologist specializing in autism and work as a special education specialist at Haverly's most prestigious school for children with autism. The school requires every incoming student to attend a one-on-one introductory session before the new term begins. When I spot Yvonne arriving with her grandson, my heart drops.

I had been married to Derek for six years, and we had a three-year-old son. He was poor, earning only $2,000 a month, but I had no complaints; I took care of everything at home for him. After getting dinner on the table for the whole family, I finally had a minute to check my phone. A video popped up on my feed: a twenty-two-year-old girl from a rural area whose hands, roughened by years of hard labor, looked like they belonged to a sixty-two-year-old woman. I looked down at my own hands, just as worn and scarred, and stared at them blankly before tapping into the comments. I expected people to feel bad for her. However, to my surprise, the comments section was flooded with a single sentiment: "Why would anyone marry a penniless loser?" One of the top-liked comments came from a couple; in their photo, they were pictured holding hands—fingers tightly intertwined—with the girl sporting a massive diamond ring. The accompanying caption read: "A man who truly loves you would never bear to let you suffer." I felt a pang of envy. Given the choice, who wouldn't want a glamorous life? As I was about to close the app, I accidentally tapped on the couple's photo, enlarging it. In the background, previously too blurry to make out, was a face I recognized. It looked exactly like my husband, Derek Sterling. I froze, and almost against my will, I tapped into the account's profile. Post after post of lavish photos of them together flooded my screen. And then I saw him clearly. The scar above his brow, the one he got when a shelf fell on him while protecting me, was still plainly visible. It was my husband. It was Derek.

After our family road trip over the holiday, I got carsick and threw up in the car. Mommy locked me inside the car under the blazing sun. "Zoe! You know how much I hate it when things get dirty!" she screeched. "I won't let you out until you've licked all this filth clean!" I frantically wiped the vomit off the back seat. "I'm sorry, Mommy. I couldn't help it." "Shut up! You're disgusting!" Mommy covered her nose, shoved the car door open, and rushed out. Daddy quickly picked up my little brother, Timmy Yarnell, and shot me an annoyed look. "Zoe, you know how much your Mommy treasures this car, but you made it stink. Listen to her and stay in there to think about what you've done. I'll leave the AC on. You can come back inside once your Mommy has calmed down." With that, Daddy pried my fingers off his shirt and walked away with Timmy in his arms. The car doors locked. I cried and pounded on the window, screaming at the top of my lungs. "Daddy, Mommy! I know I was wrong. Please don't leave me here! I'll be good. I'll clean everything up!" But they walked farther and farther away with Timmy. Before long, the AC shut off automatically because the car's battery was low. The sun beat down on the roof, and the temperature inside the car quickly rose. Weak and exhausted, I lay against the scorching car window as I slowly began to lose consciousness. If I cleaned everything up, Mommy and Daddy would love me like they used to, right?

There's a whiteboard in my house, with the countdown to my death written across it. "Estimated days until Harold's heart fails: 47 days". Every morning, Mom carefully wipes away yesterday's number and writes in a new one. It's just like a countdown for a big sale at the supermarket—precise, cold, and dripping with anticipation. My name is Harold Irwin, and I'm 12 years old. I was born with a congenital heart disease. The doctors say I won't be able to survive past another six months without surgery. The surgery costs 450,000 dollars. Yet, my father, Shaun Irwin, who is worth 300 million dollars, says, "450,000 dollars? That's not worth it." Because there's another healthy child in our family—my little sister, Magdalene Irwin. She's eight years old, brilliant, pretty, plays the piano, and knows how to charm the adults. She's the only child in the family who's "worth it".

I've known all along that my husband, Hector Greene, has been seeing another woman. However, for the past two years, even after going through all of his financial records and looking into all the women he might've come into contact with, I haven't been able to find out who she is. My parents accuse me of being paranoid. My younger brother says I'm not worthy of Hector. Only my older sister, Giselle Lloyd, repeatedly defends me. "Evelina is my sister! I won't let you guys force her to put up with this!" Ever since we were kids, Giselle has been the one who gets everything the family has to give. None of the new outfits, the chance to study abroad, or even the shares Grandpa left behind have ever gone to me. But Giselle would stash some of the candy for me and accompany me when Mom punishes me. Therefore, even though everyone else favors her, I've never truly resented her for it. Then, on Mom's birthday, Hector leaves the table early, saying he has something to deal with. Worried that I might overthink things, Giselle offers to accompany me back to the house. But when we reach the underground parking garage, she tells me she left her phone back at the restaurant and instructs me to wait in the car first. After waiting for quite a long time, I decide to head back to the restaurant as well. Then, in the stairwell, I see Hector gripping Giselle's wrist tightly as he says, "I'm sick and tired of having to sneak around like that, Giselle." Giselle pushes him away, her eyes red. "You can't say anything! No one in the family loves her. I'm the only one she has. If I betray her too, she won't be able to take the blow." As I stare at them through the door, everything finally clicks into place. This whole time, whenever Giselle volunteers to help me track down my cheating husband, she's actually taking the opportunity to cover up their tracks. Having realized this, I lose all interest in finding out when their illicit affair started. I lose all desire to keep this marriage—and this family.

I'm an energetic child, while my parents are elegant and refined. They're the type of people who don't make a sound even when they're flipping a page of a book. They want me to be quiet, but I just can't do it. Dad gets rashes all over his body whenever I just run a few steps around the house. "It's all your fault for being so unruly," Mom snaps, shooting an icy look at me. "That's why your father developed an allergy. Stay away from him from now on." I nod, feeling stunned. Mom and Dad send me to live with Grandpa in the countryside when I'm seven years old. They promise to take me home once a year has passed. I count the days on my fingers that are covered with chilblains, waiting year after year. During the winter of my sixth year in the countryside, Grandpa closes his eyes and doesn't wake up again. Mom and Dad finally remember that I'm still in the countryside. As the days turn warmer to herald the coming of spring, I finally return home. However, when I step across the threshold, I see a young boy quietly reading a book. Mom pats the boy's head with a tenderness that I've never experienced. "This is your brother, Seth Jameson," she says. "Look how quiet and well-behaved he is." It turns out that I've lost my place in this home a long time ago.

By the time I gather enough money to cover my sister Sierra Reed's four years of college tuition, I realize she's already blocked my number. "If it weren't for you, I'd be living with our parents now! I hate you. I don't want to talk to you ever again!" She thinks I will make a scene and tell her how hard it has been for me. But I just smile and say, "Okay." She doesn't know we'll never have anything to do with each other again. Because I'm about to die.

My mom bought me a house with zero down payment. For five years, I scrimped and saved until I finally paid off the mortgage. But then, she told me she wanted to transfer the house to her first love's son to use as his wedding home. When I said no, she pulled out the property deed and slapped it down in front of me. "The house is in my name. I'll give it to whoever I want. You'd better hand it over willingly, or don't blame me for forgetting we're family." So I pulled out another deed—this one with my name on it—and called 911. "Hello? I'd like to report a trespasser."

I discover Quilton Fuller's affair before our wedding, so I lie to him about having aborted our child. He hates me for that and gets engaged to a woman who looks just like me. On his wedding day, he video-calls me, wanting to show me his bride. However, he's greeted by the sight of me bloody and battered after being tormented by abductors. I beg him to at least save the baby in my womb, but he says to the abductors, "You'd better kill her and her child."

My younger brother, Ian Green, was caught for robbery, but my mother forced me to take the blame for him. I refused, so my mother took a knife and attempted suicide. She knew that I was filial and would not want her to suffer any harm, so I gave in. However, my mother had no idea that I also took responsibility for a murder he committed. After I was sentenced to death, she went insane looking for me.

In the seventh year of our secret relationship, Alex Timbers became the hero pilot the whole country was talking about. His flight had run into extreme weather. Somehow, on nerve and skill alone, he'd brought the plane down safely. I watched the livestream the whole time, crying so hard I could barely stand. Then, ten minutes later, during an on-site interview at the airport, a three-year-old boy ducked under the barricade and threw himself into Alex's arms, sobbing and calling him Dad. Right behind him came my best friend, Natalie Wilde, her eyes red. In front of the entire country, Alex pulled them both into his arms. Before I could even process it, two more familiar faces appeared on screen. My mother, Susan Healey, hugged Natalie, her voice breaking. "It's over now, Natalie. Alex made it back alive. You and the boy finally have someone to lean on." My father, Dale Healey, clapped Alex on the shoulder, beaming. "Your family of three is whole again. Nothing beats that." In that instant, every drop of blood in my body ran cold. Over the past seven years, I'd had three miscarriages because of Alex. Each time, he'd held me and sworn, eyes red, "Mary, for your reputation, I can't let you have a child out of wedlock. Once I make captain, we'll get married." I laughed until the laughter turned into tears, blurring my vision. It wasn't just Alex. My parents had been standing with them the whole time. I'd been the only one left waiting, seven years, in a place no one could see. I typed out in the livestream's comment section: [Congratulations.]

On the day we move into the new apartment, my mother, Elizabeth Carter, sends a floor plan to the family group chat. It's a three-bedroom apartment, and a name is marked beside each bedroom. The master bedroom is for my parents, and the second bedroom is for my brother, Benjamin Sullivan. The room with the best sunlight is labeled "Savannah's Room". Savannah Keller's father, Liam Keller, drowned years ago while saving Benjamin, who had fallen into the water. After she becomes an orphan, my parents take her in and raise her as their own for ten years. I zoom in and out of the picture, scrolling through it twice. Still, I can't find my name anywhere. I ask Mom about it. She pauses, as if just remembering this detail. "You said you wanted to apply to a graduate school out of town, right? Once you get in, you'll move away. Leaving the room empty would be such a waste. Savannah's situation is different. "Her dad died for Benjamin. She has no other family in this world, so she must be given that big bedroom." Benjamin is already helping Savannah choose the curtains. They are pink floral ones, which she likes. Meanwhile, my boyfriend of three years, Wyatt Whitfield, carries the newly assembled bookshelf into Savannah's room. He quietly asks her if she wants an extra shelf for her figurines. I sit on a cardboard box in the living room, watching everyone bustle around. It dawns on me then—it's not that they have forgotten about me. Rather, deep down, they subconsciously believe that to repay that debt of gratitude, I should naturally give up everything that belongs to me. Even Wyatt has become an accessory to compensate Savannah. Since there's no place for me in this home, I decided to give it all up to them. I lower my head and tap on my phone. Then, I sign the confidentiality agreement to work at a base in the Northwest for five years, with no chance of coming home. This time, I'm really leaving, and I'm never coming back.

My younger sister, Mia Shaw, was obsessed with my boyfriend, Zach Young. It got so bad that she developed serious mental problems and threatened to kill herself every few days. To keep her from hurting herself, my parents and Zach came up with a mystery-box game. Whoever drew the slip that said [Sit This One Out] had to stay home, while the other person got to go on a date with my boyfriend. I refused at first, but Zach tried to reassure me. "It's just a way to calm Mia down. For the sake of keeping peace in the family, can you please go along with it?" But my luck was terrible. Every single time there was a date, I drew [Sit This One Out]. All I could do was watch as Mia had dinner with Zach, then even posed for wedding photos with him. They were practically on the verge of getting married. I'd finally had enough. I decided to talk to Zach and put an end to the mystery-box game. Instead, I found him and Mia at a jewelry store, their marriage certificate in hand as they picked out jewelry. My parents were beside themselves with excitement. "This is wonderful! You two finally made it official. On a day this special, we have to buy a few extra necklaces to celebrate." Mia clung tightly to Zach's hand and said gratefully, "Mom, Dad, it's all thanks to you rigging those mystery boxes. Nora has no idea every single one only had a [Sit This One Out] slip inside. Since she always picked first, I got the chance to be with Zach and finally have a happy life with him." Zach pulled her into his arms and warned them, "Keep it down. Don't let Nora find out, or she'll make a scene again." My fingertips went cold. So my entire family, along with Zach, had been working together to deceive me. I took out my phone and bought a plane ticket out. If there was no place for me in this family, then I would leave. They could have each other.

A hospital's medication error leaves me in a vegetative state. My father, a renowned medical expert, lies under oath to protect the hospital because the doctor responsible is the only son of his longtime mentor. When reporters confront him, he calmly declares, "My daughter has suffered from allergies since childhood. What happened to her is simply bad luck. The doctor did nothing wrong, and the hospital shouldn't be blamed for something beyond its control." The man who destroyed my life walks away without consequences. I lie helpless in my hospital bed, hearing every word. Unable to move anything but my eyes, I turn my gaze toward the euthanasia consent form in my mother's hands.

My brother, Dylan Skinner, was diagnosed with kidney failure and needed a transplant. My mother shoved a voluntary donation form in front of me and tried to force me to sign it, but I refused. I told her that my immune system was weak, and I wouldn't survive with only one kidney. She answered with two hard slaps across my face and started yelling. "Dylan is dying, and you're still thinking about yourself? How could you be so selfish?" To force me into it, she stormed into my advisor's office, grabbed my research samples, and said she wouldn't give them back unless I agreed. As I met her hate-filled gaze, something inside me went completely numb.

My mother, a judge, wanted her intern-lawyer son to get his footing in the profession. So in the murder trial where I stood falsely accused, she threw fairness out the window and ruled in favor of the plaintiff's attorney: her own younger son. I begged her to be impartial. It was my last chance to clear my name. But she only snapped at me impatiently. "Your brother's just starting out. What's the harm in helping him? It's not a death sentence. A few years in prison won't kill you!" Later, when the victim's furious family stabbed me to death in the street, my mother lost her mind overnight.

When I practice standing at attention during the freshman orientation program, my mom, Jasmine Miller, decides to lock me up in a car with fully sealed windows just because I'm the first one who wipes sweat off her brow. "You were never able to stand properly ever since you were a kid! How dare you embarrass me in front of everyone with that slump of yours! In that case, you might as well reflect on yourself in the car!" The temperature in the car soon rose to 140 degrees Fahrenheit. I could only grip my throat, which is closing up rapidly, as I bang on the car window and plead to Mom to let me out. But she merely glances at the temperature shown on the monitor inside the car before locking all the doors with a jab of the remote control. "It's only 96.8 degrees inside the car! Heck, it's even a degree lower than the temperature outside! Keep putting on that act of yours, why don't you?" But what Mom doesn't know is that the car's system has already gotten disconnected from the Internet a long time ago. Seeing as the temperature inside the car is still increasing, I have no choice but to ask my orientation leader, Edwin Styke, for help. But he actually agrees with Mom's approach to things. "If every parent were as strict as Ms. Miller, none of the youngsters would grow up fragile and whiny!" Driven by sheer despair, I can only slump in the backseat. Soon, my consciousness fades away completely. Some of my peers try to plead on my behalf, only to witness the way Mom tosses her car key into the dumpster. "Kate really is enjoying her break, huh? Now that she's lying inside the car, she refuses to even move a muscle! Well then, she can lie there all she wants!" But Mom, I don't need you to free me anymore. After all, I can feel myself ascending slowly from the car. Finally, I'm free from this sauna! As I stare at Mom's furious face, I can only grip the hem of my sweat-soaked shirt uneasily. I'm sorry for embarrassing you in front of everyone again, Mom…

On New Year's Eve, I was kidnapped. My captors claimed they followed an ancient tradition. They planned to livestream a "Beast Hunt" to bring good fortune to the entire nation. The relentless blasts of fireworks swallowed me whole. I did not know how long it lasted before I dragged my nearly destroyed body out and escaped. When I found my parents, they broke down crying and rushed me to the best private hospital in the city. They swore to file charges and make the people responsible pay with their lives. My girlfriend of ten years, a lawyer, turned her face away. "The client and I are in a personal relationship. I am required to recuse myself, so I will not take this case." While I lay in my hospital bed, I scrolled past a trending post. [What was the biggest surprise you got this New Year's?] [My parents arranged a real live Beast Hunt just to make me happy.] [They hired people to kidnap the real son and blast him with fireworks all night long. You all saw the livestream, right? He screamed so hard it was pathetic. It is way more entertaining than any New Year's comedy special.] [And the funniest part? His lawyer girlfriend of ten years lied and told him she had to recuse herself and refused to take his case. She did it all just to keep me happy.] My fingers went ice cold. I could barely keep my grip on the phone. Every single detail lined up perfectly with the hell I had just lived through. Then the post updated again. [My parents already set up a fake death so I can disappear. They are taking me to Valterre to make it up to me with a private New Year's celebration, just the three of us.]

I was born into a poor low-ranking family within the pack. But through my own hard work, I managed to rise to the position of Gamma in our pack. My parents told me they were getting older and wanted to see the world before their eyesight failed them. So, I used most of my savings—500 thousand dollars—to book a luxurious European trip for the whole family, including a special northern lights cruise. However, before we could leave, my parents' biological daughter heard about our planned trip and announced she was coming along with us. That's when I discovered I was adopted. My parents didn't hesitate for a second. They told me to give up my top floor cruise room that I booked for $5,000 a night to their biological daughter and ordered me to sleep out in the snow during our northern excursions. They completely disregarded the fact that I have a rare condition where extreme cold could trigger my wolf to shift uncontrollably so that I could potentially die from the exposure. Even worse, they demanded that I transfer all MY remaining savings to support their biological daughter’s luxury trip. But worst of all was when Alexander, my mate of three years, sided with them. The man I had supported financially, the wolf the Goddess herself had chosen for me, betrayed me without a second thought. So I canceled the entire trip through the pack's travel agency, took the refunded money, and went traveling for a month to enjoy life on my own. I ignored all their messages through our pack mind-link and stopped responding to any of their demands. That's when my family and Alexander started to panic...