Cerita Pendek & Novel Biological Family

My older brother, Connor Hollis, wanted to be the only child in our family. So Mom changed my surname, moved my registered address to Grandma's, and made me pay to live in their home. My allowance was whatever Connor saved with coupons and cash-back deals. If he saved thirty dollars, I got thirty dollars the next month. Today was the last day to submit the college application. I begged Connor to let me use the computer. He held out his hand. "Twenty bucks." I emptied every pocket and clutched the only nineteen dollars I had. "I'm just one dollar short. Please, Connor!" He raised an eyebrow and shook his head. "Not a cent less! "Can't afford it? Then don't use it. Nobody's forcing you to go to college!" Mom had watched the whole thing coldly. Now she chimed in. "Your brother's right. Nothing in this house is free. Rules are rules." As the seconds ticked away, I tore through my room and finally found a coin wedged in the gap beside my bed. Ignoring Connor's scowl, I ran to the computer. But the words on the screen froze me in place. "The application system is now closed." The deadline had passed one minute earlier. I stared at the screen, cold to the bone. Through the door, I could hear Mom comforting Connor. "He's just a relative staying with us. He's not worth getting upset over." A bitter ache spread through my chest. I opened my messages. "Dr. Redmond, I'll go to Landorll." Just a relative? Then I won't trouble you any longer.

After my parents passed away, Uncle Mike took me in. When greedy relatives tried to snatch away my inheritance, he chased them off with a kitchen knife. “As long as I’m here, nobody lays a finger on this girl!” Aunt Rachel doted on me, calling me her precious baby and making me nutritious meals every day. My cousin Pete secretly slipped me pocket money and made sure to pick me up and drop me off at school, afraid I might get bullied. The neighbors all said I was lucky and to repay their kindness someday. On graduation day, I cooked them a lavish meal to show my appreciation. Every dish was laced with rat poison. I didn’t spare a single soul, not even the neighbors. I killed them all!

I have asthma, but Mom still forces me to take part in freshman orientation drills just to avoid accusations of favoritism. As I stand at attention in the 95-degree heat, my lips start turning blue. With no other choice, I raise a trembling hand. "Ms. Horton, I don't feel well—" Before I can finish, Roxanne Horton, the instructor leading our drills, coldly slaps my hand down. "Only half an hour in, and you're already faking sick to get out of training? And you have the nerve to lie to my face? Is this how your parents raised you?" Mom stands just a few feet away. As the dean of Hawthorne College, she immediately feels humiliated and turns to glare at me. "Everyone else is holding up just fine. You're the only one demanding special treatment," she snaps. "No daughter of mine would act like this. You'll stand here alone for another hour. Let's see how long you keep up this act." But I'm already struggling to breathe. My legs give way beneath me, and I collapse to the ground, clutching my throat as my face turns purplish-red. Before everything fades to black, I reach a trembling hand out toward Mom. "My inhaler… Help me…" But Mom's expression hardens. She turns away and lets my hand drop limply back into the dirt. "You've barely been standing for half an hour, and you're already pretending to have an asthma attack? Do you think I got to be dean by falling for every ridiculous lie?" She scoffs. "Get up right now. Stop embarrassing yourself!" When Roxanne realizes that I still haven't moved, she flies into a rage. She grabs the back of my collar and tries to haul me upright. By then, though, I'm already drifting upward, hovering above them. Looking down at Mom's cold, disappointed face, I twist the sweat-soaked hem of my shirt, overcome with shame. I'm sorry, Mom. I'll never be the daughter you can be proud of.

Since I was a little girl, my mom had always taught me that I deserve all the good things in life. When I was still a student, my copycat roommate bought the same outfit that I had on purpose. She even asked me if she looked fat in it. I just shook my head. "I don't know. I, for one, have an amazing figure, so it definitely looks good on me." Once I start working, a male colleague decides to pursue me. So, I come up with an excuse on the spot and tell him that I already have a boyfriend. He looks at me with pain etched in his eyes. Then, he asks me if I'll take him into consideration after I break up with my boyfriend. I just sneer at him in return. "It seems that you don't love me enough. Otherwise, why aren't you offering to become my side piece?" Due to my principles, everyone keeps cursing me out and calling me an arrogant woman who has no sense of shame behind my back. But one day, when my blind date hears about my personality quirk, he decides to take me back to his home to visit his mother during the holidays. "My mom is the type who keeps demeaning herself for no reason. She keeps claiming that she's unworthy of anything in life. I swear, she's driving me mad! "If you can help my mom get rid of this habit, I'll give you whatever you want." This is definitely an interesting proposal. So, I accept it confidently with a pat on the chest. "Don't worry. Leave it to me."

My parents, Leander and Valentina Rhodes, were cutthroat capitalists through and through, bringing the company’s toxic corporate culture right into our home. Eating a serving of pork ribs meant a performance deduction. Using the washing machine required paying a depreciation fee. Just to survive, I spent day and night coding and developing software. Finally, a photo-editing app I developed completely on my own went viral, earning my parents’ company $7 million. At the celebration dinner, my eldest sister, Sienna Rhodes, who managed HR, received a $70,000 bonus. My youngest sister, Delphine Rhodes, who worked in business development, walked away with a brand-new Porsche. Meanwhile, my paycheck showed nothing more than my unchanging $600 base salary. “Sienna hired two cleaners for the company. That’s called building talent pipeline infrastructure—she deserves a reward!” “Delphine took a client out for a steak dinner and secured the distribution deal. That’s expanding our territory—she deserves a massive bonus!” Finally, my parents shoved a supermarket gift card into my hand. “As for you, Evangeline, all you do is sit at your desk, tapping away on a keyboard in the air conditioning. There’s really nothing to reward.” “Still, Sienna and Delphine spoke up on your behalf, so take this gift card.” Ever since we were kids, Sienna was the family decision-maker; everything she said was taken seriously. Delphine was the baby of the family, showered with love—even when she made a mistake, it was always someone else’s fault. As for me, stuck in the middle, it felt like I was born to be forgotten. Even though I was supposed to be the star of this celebration dinner, no one remembered. No one cared. Watching the four of them laughing and enjoying their happy family moment, I silently put down the gift card. Then, I opened a text message from a rival tech giant offering me an $8 million annual salary package.

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.

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?

On the day the SAT scores are released, the reporters track me down, the top scorer of the entire nation, in order to get an interview with me. That's when they find me fishing for a corpse by the river. When the reporters ask me who I'm thankful to the most, my mom, who's allegedly been dead for ten years, makes an appearance. She gets out of the Maybach, looking very high and mighty. "Your dad didn't remarry for ten years, and you've become the top scorer of the nation. As expected, both of you have passed my test." I can only grip my pole while staring at her in confusion. It turns out that ten years ago, Mom's adopted younger brother, Donald Ferguson, suggested to her, "Why don't you fake your death and test your husband's mettle? You should pretend to go bankrupt and jump off a building. If he can stay single for your sake for the next ten years, that should prove that he didn't marry you just for your money." Mom had laughed back then. "When we were still dating, I pretended to be poor for three years. Walter could take five jobs just to put food on the table for me. It's so evident that he loves me to the moon and back. Ten years isn't a problem; heck, he'll definitely remain unmarried for 20 years, or even for the rest of his life!" The fact that I, the top scorer of the nation, am actually the wealthiest woman, Eloise Ferguson's son, gives a huge boost to the shares of her company. The entire nation looks forward to seeing Mom and me hugging each other while bawling at the top of our lungs. Mom looks around her surroundings. "Where's Walter? I'm here to take both of you home with me." "He's dead." The pole in my hands slowly cracks into splinters as I look up at Mom and spit out the answer word by word. "Three years ago, Dad kept working his ass off day and night just to buy the best burial plot for you. That was when he died in this very river."

My older sister, Miranda McQueen, forced me onto the operating table so she could give my kidney to the fake heir. She pinned down my struggling hand, her expression cold. "Evan, don't blame me for being cruel. In your past life, you pushed Lucas down the stairs and damaged his kidney. You regressed to make amends. You owe him this kidney." For three years, I had tried to atone for the sins Miranda claimed I had committed in my past life. I had taken a knife for Lucas McQueen, tested experimental drugs for him. And now, I was about to lose a kidney to him. As the anesthesia flowed into my veins and my mind began to fade, I saw Miranda gently wipe the sweat from Lucas's forehead. Lucas chuckled. "Miranda, that regression story you made up worked perfectly. He actually believed it. That idiot spent three years as my personal sacrifice." Miranda smiled at him indulgently. "As long as you can stay alive, I won't stop at one kidney. If you ever need his life, I'll give you that too." The heart monitor beeped. I gritted my teeth as a tear rolled out from the corner of my eye. There had never been a past life or any sin to atone for. Miranda had lied to me from the very beginning, all for the sake of her fake brother.

The year my younger brother, Leo Mercer, comes into the world, I instantly turn from the apple of Mom and Dad's eye into a ghost. I remember how Mom used to stay up all night out of guilt just because a mosquito bit me. However, later, when Leo knocks over a pot of boiling water and leaves my back covered in blisters, her only priority is telling him not to blame himself. When I was 17, a fire accidentally breaks out at home, and Mom and Dad immediately carry Leo out of the house. I'm left behind and nearly burn to death before Mom and Dad finally remember they have a daughter. Even though I'm ultimately saved, I end up with a four-inch scar across my abdomen. Mom and Dad hold my hand, with tears in their eyes, as they explain that Leo has been diagnosed with uremia, and they took one of my kidneys without my consent and gave it to him. I take in the joy and gratitude in their eyes at having me back and foolishly believe that my sacrifices can earn me their love. Sure enough, when Thanksgiving comes in the year I turn 18, Mom gives me the first slice of pumpkin pie. I look up, pleasantly surprised, only to find cold calculation gleaming in her eyes. "Daphne, your brother only has one kidney. If he doesn't have a house, he'll never be able to find a wife. Now that you're 18, it's time you get married. We'll use your wedding gift to help him buy a house." Dad actually looks me in the eye for once. "We've already accepted the wedding gift. You're getting married tomorrow." My fingertips are reddened by the heat of the plate, and tears roll down my cheeks and drip onto the pie. At that moment, I finally realize that Mom and Dad aren't blind to my existence; they simply don't love me.

My mom was born with a silver spoon in her mouth. Her life is smooth-sailing most of the time. The only mistake she's ever made is falling for my dad. That's why she insists on finding me a husband who's the complete opposite of my dad. My dad is tall and intimidating-looking, so Mom wants someone who's short and perverted-looking. My dad is a knowledgeable and well-read man, so Mom wants a guy who has only graduated from elementary school. My dad prioritizes his moral integrity more than anything else, so Mom prefers a guy who drinks, gambles, and sleeps around. She tells me, "This type of man is easy to manipulate, unlike your father, who just divorced me out of nowhere!" It's true that the man Mom has chosen for me won't divorce me. After all, he leeches from me on top of beating me up. It's not enough to leech my money from me, it seems—he just has to take everything from me. My mom says in a righteous tone, "This is the only way that proves you're valuable to him. He won't divorce you at all." I've fought back and escaped from my husband many times. Every time I do, my mom will trick me into returning to him by hurting herself. As always, I'm greeted with another round of beating whenever I do return to him. Mom will take me to the hospital to get my injuries treated. Then, she'll say, "Hurry up and give birth to a son for him. Once you have a son, you'll be extremely valuable to your husband. He won't beat you up anymore." Today is supposed to be the day Mom takes me to the hospital to check my ovulation timing. She spends a long time calling me on the phone, yet I never pick up. After that, she sends me a few audio messages that last for 60 seconds each just to lecture me. "Beatrice Anderson, what makes you think you can just ignore my calls? The hospital check-up is for your own good! As long as you can get pregnant with a son, your husband will be wrapped around your finger! He won't divorce you after this! Why can't you understand how much I care for you?" I seriously can't understand at all. After all, I've gotten beaten to death yesterday. My corpse is cut into 28 chunks, and they are being frozen in the fridge as I speak.

Mom was Dad's dirty little secret. Every year, he would hold her and promise, Wait for me. We'll have our mating ceremony next year. Five years passed, but he mated with another woman instead, making her his Luna. Mom grew bitter and unhinged. She even resorted to abusing me just to get Dad's attention. Go call your father! Tell him you're sick and he needs to see you! But after she pulled that trick so many times, Dad grew disgusted with me. Learning to lie like your mother already. Sickening. Later, Dad's Luna had a daughter. Rumors of their perfect, loving family spread through the pack. Mom lost her mind completely. On my seventh birthday, she fed me a micro-dose of wolfsbane and ordered me to call Dad over. I begged her to take me to the pack hospital. She snapped impatiently, It's just a little wolfsbane. Take the antidote in a minute and you'll be fine. Stop being such a baby! Dad rushed over, only to shove Mom to the floor in annoyance. If you use this little liar to trick me again, you won't get another dime from me! Screams and sobs tangled in the air. I lay on the freezing floor, slowly losing consciousness. Before I died, I thought, "Without me here, they won't have to fight anymore." But after I actually died, Mom and Dad both said they regretted it.

To realize my brother’s dream of getting a girlfriend in college, my mother drugged me just before the start of the semester, knocking me out for three straight days. By the time I came to, my brother had taken my spot at an Ivy League school. I bought a train ticket there to expose him as an impostor. However, my mother broke my legs and locked me up in the cellar. She bolted the door to the cellar. “I’ve taught you time and again to put your brother first, but it goes straight over your head. It’s just college. It won’t kill you to let him take your place. “You ought to reflect on your behavior. I’ll let you out once you’ve learned how to be part of the family.” With that, she left to play poker with her friends. For the next ten days, my presence was the last thing on her mind. She didn’t bother to send me food. It wasn’t until the weeds in the field had grown tall enough to need clearing that my mother finally unlatched the cellar door. By then, hunger had already taken me. No longer would I pull those weeds again.

In my past life, Mom and Dad force me to jump into a freezing lake to fish out the necklace Ramona Stone, their adopted daughter, dropped. I end up running a 104-degree Fahrenheit fever, lying in bed barely conscious, while my whole family flies off to Solara for a vacation just to cheer Ramona up. I call Mom, trembling and barely holding on, only to be met with impatience. "Ramona is finally in a better mood, Harper. Do you really have to be so inconsiderate? You should just take some medicine yourself." I have no choice but to drag my weak body downstairs to look for medicine. I accidentally fall down the stairs and lose my life. I open my eyes and find myself back on the first day of summer vacation before my junior year of high school. Ramona dangles the necklace in front of me, then leans close. "You wouldn't refuse to help me retrieve it, would you, Harper? Mom says we need to help each other out, after all." I dodge her and hurl the necklace straight into the middle of the lake this time. "Screw you! I'm done with this family!"

When we were small, a witch named Sybil predicted that my sister would not live past sixteen. Since then, every eye in the family turned toward her. All the love in that house gathered around Aurora and stopped there. Whatever she wanted, whatever she wanted to do, our parents backed her completely. Every scrap of tenderness and every resource they had went to her, while I was left out in the cold, and the things that should have been mine were handed to her too. Even so, I never complained, not once. I knew my sister was someone to be pitied. Then the day of the prophecy came, the day she turned sixteen, and I was the one who ended up poisoned with wolfsbane, of all people, hanging on the edge of death. My parents were busy with her. They decided I was making a scene, and they ordered the guards to throw me out of the castle. My arms and legs had no strength left. I dragged myself toward the doors and called out in a shaking voice, "Dad, Mom, let me in, please, it hurts so much..." Instead, from behind the doors my father's gentle voice said to my sister, "Don't worry, sweetheart. The one causing trouble has been put out. No one is going to take your parents' love away from you again." Hearing that, something in me died for good. With the sound of my family fussing over her drifting through the door, I slowly closed my eyes.

On the day my grandfather, who was the wealthiest man in this state, died, the entire family got into a huge fight over the inheritance. My father could not stop the fight, so he requested my mother’s support. When I arrived, my grandfather was lying motionless on the bed. He was not even changed into his funeral suit. My aunts were pulling on each other’s hair as they fought over the ownership of a building. My uncles were fighting over the Rolls-Royce car keys. The entire family looked like hooligans as they fought. My mother was holding gold bars as she yelled at me, “What are you waiting for? Take that gold ring off your grandfather’s finger!” I rubbed my hands and was just about to take the ring off. I had just crouched down when I saw my grandfather’s pinky move.

On Thanksgiving, after I got off work, my younger brother, Nate Anderson, left an update in our family group chat about having moved to a different address. I had to take five different public transport connections before I finally reached the location he had sent me. However, when I arrived, I found that I was in a deserted area. Nate sounded smug over the phone. “Got you! My prank was successful! The last bus has left. What’re you going to do now?” I was dumbfounded, but my parents were laughing. “Why did you believe such an obvious lie? Who did you inherit your dumbness from?” “We’re having our Thanksgiving dinner soon. You can walk home.” My girlfriend, Gwen Smith, was chuckling. She said mockingly, “Oliver, you should come back on your own, just like your parents said. “It’s not the first time you’re getting pranked like this. Don’t be a sore loser!” After that, she hung up on me. In the past, I would have called them and begged them to pick me up. However, this time, I was overwhelmed with exhaustion as I gazed at the distant city lights. Nate loved to play pranks on me, and my entire family enabled him to do so. Two years ago, he put peach fuzz into my drink, and I suffered an asthma attack because of it. Last year, he swapped my shampoo with a hair removal gel, and I failed an interview because of it. My entire family knew that I was terrified of the dark, but they conspired with him and lured me to a deserted area. They were betting on when I would call them and beg for their mercy at the dinner table. I did not cry or beg. In the dark, I walked in the opposite direction from where my home was. I was going to put an end to these pranks.

After the college entrance exam ended, my younger sister, who had been my only family for seven years, told me calmly, "I left the whole thing blank." I froze and could not get a single word out. A look of vengeful satisfaction crossed her face as she went on, "Jett Sullivan and I never broke up either. I left it blank for him. His grades are awful, so there's no way he's getting into a good college. I promised him we'd spend all four years just having fun." Her words cut straight through me, yet she did not seem to think she had done anything wrong. She met my eyes openly and coldly. "The exam's over now anyway. If you're fine with me dating Jett, I'll still call you my brother. If not, we cut ties for good." She glanced at my trembling hands and paused. "If you still want me as your sister, fine. Give Jett every paycheck you've earned all these years. Think of it as a gift to him."

My sister came home three years after she went missing. But every time she saw me, she lost control and tried to kill herself. She blamed me for failing to protect her. My parents begged me with tears in their eyes. "Move down to the basement. We owe her this much. Don't hold it against her. Once she gets better, you can move back upstairs, okay?" I agreed. Seven years passed, and I slowly became invisible in my own home. Then, this Christmas, Mom finally invited me to celebrate with the family. I had barely picked up the knife to cut the cake when my sister suddenly screamed. I jumped up, but before I could react, my sister snatched the cake knife and slashed her own wrist. Mom lunged at me and grabbed my arm. "Who told you to pick up the cake knife? Don't you know she can't stand the sight of knives? Are you trying to kill her?" Her yank sent me tumbling down the stairs. Mom and Dad were too busy comforting my sister to hear my neck snap. As they crowded around her, I finally realized the truth. No one in this family cared if I lived or died.

After my younger brother, Thomas Werther, is born, my family puts a reward and disciplinary system in place. As the older brother, I receive double the punishment whenever Thomas makes a mistake. But whenever he accomplishes something, I am rewarded too. At first, I teach Thomas how to eat and use the toilet. My dad, Ronald Werther, praises me for doing such a great job and buys me stylish new clothes and all the toys I want. But one day, Thomas accidentally breaks a vase. After watching me take the punishment for it, he claps happily, as though he has just discovered something incredible. From that moment on, my life becomes a living nightmare. Thomas starts wreaking havoc around the house without restraint. He deliberately does the opposite of whatever I tell him. Dad's punishments grow harsher and harsher. At first, he only strikes my palms. Then he makes me stand for hours, forbids me from eating, and whips me with a cane. Every time I scream in pain, Thomas bursts into delighted laughter and claps his hands. I try to expose what Thomas is doing, but Dad only looks at me with disgust. "Thomas is just a kid! What could he possibly know? You don't teach him properly, and now you're trying to shirk responsibility? How did I end up raising a son like you?" And just like that, I endure Thomas' schemes until his third birthday. This time, giggling with delight, he smashes the only keepsake Granddad left behind.