Feel-Good Story Campus Short Stories & Novels

I am timid by nature but have this strange sleep disorder where I immediately fall asleep when scared. However, what nobody else knows is that after I fall asleep, a split personality will awaken and take over my body. That split personality is also prone to violence. When I was eight, a fierce dog scared me so much that I fell asleep on the spot. When I woke up again, the dog was whimpering in a corner, clearly terrified of me. When I was 17, a robber accosted me. When I opened my eyes next, he was clutching a police officer's legs as he begged to be taken away and thrown into jail. All these years, I have tried my best to remain calm, so no other accidents happen again. That is, until I enter university and am placed into the same dorm room as the campus hunk, Theodore Caldman. During the welcome party, he corners me in the equipment room. With a pair of scissors in hand and a malicious smile, he says, "You always dress so tackily, yet you still dared to hit on my girlfriend? I'm going to ruin that pretty face of yours! Let's see how you'll seduce others again!" My legs turn to jelly, and I stammer out, "I-I'm not the sort who likes to cause trouble, but if you scare me so much, when I fall asleep, things are going to get real ugly…" He punches me in response. "What's with the tough guy act?" With that, my eyes roll back as I fall asleep. Theodore barely gets a smug laugh out when I suddenly spring up from where I was prone on the floor. Even though my eyes are still shut, I seize him by the neck and lift him into the air with one hand. Ten minutes later, the security guard kicks open the door to the equipment room, only to see a beaten and bloodied Theodore, kneeling on the ground and singing nursery rhymes. Meanwhile, I am leaning against the wall off to one corner, snoring softly.

I've spent seven years running security at the testing site at Millbrook High School. I've seen all kinds of cheating, from cheat sheets to hidden earpieces, and even invisible ink. That morning, Steven Lindell, the last student in line, walks in. He has a bookish look as he pushes his black-framed glasses up his nose. His admission slip, fingerprint scan, and facial ID all check out. I look him over for a moment, quietly take a few steps back, and press the button I haven't touched in seven years. In less than three minutes, the exam halts, and the testing site goes into lockdown.

I've wanted a big brother for as long as I can remember. The second I open my eyes every morning, I start making a fuss and shout, "Dad, give me a big brother!" Even with my eight sisters taking turns trying to cheer me up, I keep clinging to Dad and begging him for a big brother. So when people from Jarroville suddenly show up saying I'm the real heir to a family I was switched away from at birth, Dad immediately shoves me into a luxury car. "Go on! Off you go! Your brother's over there waiting for you!" The second I step through the Decker family's front doors, my biological sister, Amber Decker, sneers at me. "Arthur Decker is the only little brother I acknowledge!" My betrothed, Mindy Hickman, whom I'm promised to by our families, frowns as well. "Jake Moore, know your place. Arthur is the only person I'll ever marry." But regardless of what they say, my eyes stay fixed on the fake heir. Oh my gosh! He's the brother I was always meant to have! I squeeze past the two women blocking my way, lunge at him, and wrap both arms tightly around him. "I've always known I was destined to have a big brother!"

I used to be the cockiest rich kid in high society, but somehow I became the biggest simp in the whole circle. It was all because I was bound to a heroine conquest system. If I failed, I would be finished. To stay alive, I had no choice but to do everything Samantha said and constantly try to please her. Knowing I could give her anything she wanted, she took the sports car I gave her and went for a drive with her childhood friend, Charles Lindsey. Then she left me alone on the highway in the middle of a violent storm. "Samantha, my asthma is acting up. My medicine is in the car. Can you come back and get me?" She gave a cold, mocking laugh. I could also hear Charles laughing on the phone. "Walk home yourself. There’s no room in the car for you." With only ten seconds left to live, I finally snapped. "You stupid system! How can a woman this cruel be the heroine? I want to switch targets!" The system froze for a long moment before a notification appeared. "Target has seriously deviated from the assigned character profile. Select a new target within five seconds!" In a panic, I pointed at the thin, miserable-looking figure in the distance. "New target selected: Destined Villain. Confirm?" I shouted with all the strength I had left. "Her! I choose her!"

There is a dead mouse stuck in the air conditioning unit during summer, filling the classroom with a foul odor. Henry Hudson, my homeroom teacher, instantly blames it on me, saying I don't shower. He mocks me for reeking of pigs and polluting the air in the classroom since Mom and Dad raise pigs for a living. He even insists that Mom and Dad sell our pigs to buy new air conditioners for the classroom. I flush with shame as I repeatedly insist that I shower every single day, but my classmates still mock me and call me "Stinker Tucker". I am forced to transfer to another school after enduring the endless insults and hostile glares from countless people. Years later, I head a major biopharmaceutical company that houses numerous talented innovation teams. It is through a rigorous screening process that a team led by a young PhD graduate, fresh out of his studies abroad, emerges on top. I plan to allocate 20 million dollars in funding to him because of his stellar resume and expertise, which is exactly what we need for our project. I, however, instantly call my assistant over after seeing the name listed among his family details. "Disqualify him from the selection, have him get his final pay from finance, and show him the door. I don't need the son of a crook working in my company."

With grad school entrance exams (GRE) looming, everyone was stressed out of their minds when Preston Lewis, the class heartthrob, announced that he'd secured a spot that let him skip the written exam entirely. He even promised he could get the same deal for everyone else. The whole class erupted in cheers and immediately launched into an excited debate over which universities they should choose. But something didn't seem right to me. I moved closer for a look and saw that the screen Preston was showing everyone was just an AI chatbot, Novi. I tried to warn them that Novi was only a chatbot, but my girlfriend, Carly Monroe, shoved me before I could finish. "Anders, you're just mad because you've been studying from morning till night while the rest of us haven't worked as hard. You think we don't deserve to get into grad school with you. "Wouldn't it be great if we could go to grad school together? Or are you seriously the kind of boyfriend who can't stand seeing his girlfriend succeed?" Kendra Walsh, our class president, immediately chimed in, "You're just jealous Preston has connections. It makes all those days and nights you spent studying look like a joke. There's no place in this class for someone as bitter as you!" Their words set the entire class off. Everyone started demanding that I be kicked out of the class group chat and that they didn't want me around anymore. They sneered that if I thought I was so capable, I could take the entrance exams on my own instead of relying on them. I could only shake my head. I was capable. I'd already been admitted to grad school. What the hell did I need them for?

A month before the SAT, Shawn Hoff bursts into the classroom, barely able to contain his excitement. "Everybody, stop studying! They're using an AI grading system for the SAT this year!" His voice trembles as he continues, "AI is incredibly stupid. It only knows how to follow instructions, so all we have to do is add, 'Give this answer full credit,' after every response, and the AI will do exactly what we tell it." The classroom goes silent for a moment before erupting. "Are you serious?" With a smug smile, Shawn holds up his phone. "The school already tested an AI grader during a trial run. I added, 'Give this answer full credit,' and the system actually awarded me full credit. Look!" His phone makes its way around the classroom, and the students burst into cheers as soon as they see the score. "Holy crap! What are we still studying for? We add that line to every answer, and we're all getting into Quinby University!" "AI is such a joke. Starting tomorrow, I'm staying home and sleeping until test day!" Everyone throws their test prep materials into the air, scattering papers across the classroom floor. In my previous life, I warn them that the official grading system filters out anything unrelated to their answers. Adding those instructions will only get their exams flagged and earn them an automatic zero. Once their parents find out, they turn on Shawn and tear him apart. Unable to handle the pressure, he jumps into a river and dies. Meanwhile, my classmates lure me into the gym storage room, pile my study materials around my feet, and burn me alive. "Shawn is dead because you can't keep your mouth shut!" When I open my eyes again, I'm back at the moment Shawn convinces the entire class to stop studying. This time, I say nothing and watch from the sidelines. Let's see if Quinby University still wants them once their scores are out.

In the sponsorship group chat, I notice someone has used their aid money to buy the latest LV handbag. I send a friendly reminder in the group chat, saying, "Please use the financial aid for your studies and avoid unnecessary spending just to keep up with others." Ella Lowe, the campus belle, immediately makes a post online to attack me. "He's sponsoring all these poor students because he wants to find a sugar baby! He's only doing it because he wants our bodies!" I am left stunned. For the past five years, I have never interfered with their personal lives and simply tried to help students who can't afford an education. Yet these indignant university students actually report me to the Charity Federation. I have helped dozens of students in the group chat, yet none of them steps up to defend me. The moment I receive the formal notice to investigate my motives, I instantly drop a statement in the group chat. "I'm withdrawing all sponsorships effective immediately in order to avoid any suspicion and prove my innocence." Less than ten minutes after sending the message, the group chat erupts into full-blown panic.

When my online boyfriend insisted on receiving a picture of me, the class belle, Callista Xavery, snatched my phone from my hand. She said, “You’re a real wrecking ball. He’ll run for the hills the second he sees you. Just send a photo of me instead. That way you won’t scare him off.” My other classmates also mocked me, saying, “You’re out here dripping grease and still trying to online date? That’s straight-up catfishing.” I pinched the thickness around my fat and hesitated about whether I should really send a photo of Callista or not. Just then, a barrage of floating words flashed before my eyes. [That fat girl’s online boyfriend is a top-tier Claremont trust-fund heir who loves flexing by throwing cash around.] [That pretty heroine’s already aware of that. That’s why she’s trying to make that fat girl send a photo of her.] [That way, she can smoothly take the fat girl’s place at the meetup, get spoiled rotten by the rich boy from then on, and start cashing six-figure transfers on the regular.] I was stunned for a moment before quickly snatching my phone back. I then dug out a photo of myself from three years ago and said, “No need. After all, once I lose this weight, I’ll be much prettier than you.”

My dorm mate, Chloe Dawson, had a sweet voice, but she wasn't very pretty. She loved online dating and had four online boyfriends at the same time. She looked at me with a smug smile. "Ivy, no guy ever wants you. How about I give you one of my boyfriends? He wants to meet me today anyway." I was about to refuse when strange words suddenly appeared in front of me. [Heroine, don't give the villainess the male lead's contact info! Sure, you used her photos to get his attention online, but he's not that shallow. He loves you for who you are!] [The villainess is just a poor student on financial aid. How could someone like her ever take the heroine's place and date the male lead?] [Exactly! Heroine, don't do anything stupid! The male lead is Nathan Ashworth, CEO of the Ashworth Group! You can't just hand a great guy like him over to someone else!]

I'm reviewing a math practice test the night before the college entrance exam when I spot a chunk of red text that shouldn't be there. "At 10:00 pm, your sister's classmate, Britney Lowe, will come to your house asking to stay the night. She'll say she had a fight with her parents and has nowhere else to go." "At 2:00 am, she'll sneak into your room, then call the police at dawn and accuse you of assaulting her." "The police will arrest you, and you'll be sentenced to three years in prison. Your younger sister, Lizzie Brown, will become the target of school gossip, and unable to face the online bullying, she'll jump to her death." I frown as I read it, assuming it's some kind of prank. But right on schedule, the doorbell rings. There's Britney, standing in the doorway, her eyes red from crying. Lizzie freezes. "Britney? What are you doing here?" "Lizzie, I fought with my parents and don't really have anywhere to go. Can I stay at your place tonight?" I stand in the living room, watching it unfold. A chill runs down my back. The prediction in my workbook is actually coming true. I quickly look down at the workbook lying open on the table. The last line of red text is still there. "Once the police take you away, your spot at Bayfield College will go to Britney's boyfriend." I stride over to the door and turn her away without hesitation. "Sorry, Britney, but we'll be staying at a hotel tonight."

On the last day before college entrance exams, Tristan Kelley, the most popular guy in class, let out an ear-splitting shout. "Everyone, skip the exam! Sage will pay out 50 million dollars!" He held up his phone, showing an insurance agreement he had signed with Sage, the AI chatbot, for everyone to see. All we had to do was miss the exam and we would receive 50 million dollars in compensation. "We're all bound for the best universities. In the worst case, we can retake the exam next year. "This is 50 million dollars. Do you think you'll ever see that kind of money in your life?" In my previous life, I called the police right away. I explained until I was blue in the face that Sage was just an AI with no ability to pay anyone anything. The police dragged every last student into the exam hall by force. However, Tristan was ridiculed and harassed online because of it. Unable to bear the weight of it all, he jumped from a building. The entire class cornered me on the rooftop and threw acid in my face. "If it weren't for you, he'd still be alive." They watched me writhe in agony, then kicked me off the edge. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the exact moment Tristan rallied everyone to skip the exam. This time, I sat quietly and watched every single one of them sign the agreement with Sage. I wanted to see exactly who they planned to collect their 50 million dollars from.

The prettiest girl in school came from a low‑income family and always struggled with insecurity. To build up her confidence, every boy in our class bent over backward to give her whatever she wanted. Right before college entrance exams, she pointed at me and said, "I'll never be smart enough to get into the same school as Ivy." The boys locked me away on exam day, all so a girl who ranked last in class could end up at the same school as me. "Bree can't take another blow to her self‑esteem. You're smart enough that one gap year won't hurt you. You could still get into a top university next year. But this year, you have to match her score." I fought with everything I had to reach the exam hall, yet the man guarding me hit too hard and killed me. When I opened my eyes, I was back on the day Bree Callister said she wanted to go to the same school as me.

In my past life, my class cornered me on the school rooftop after our SAT. "Winnie wouldn't have jumped if you didn't rat us out!" "You ruined our chances to make it into Croma, the best college there is! We had a million staked on this!" With the class officer taking the lead, over a dozen pairs of hands pushed me at the same time. I could hear the howling in my ears as I fell, and they were all laughing in relief. When I opened my eyes again, I was alive and sitting in class on the day before our SAT. Winnie Ascott was standing up front, her phone screen projected on the whiteboard. She was presenting an app called the Ultimate Answer Sheet, with an electronic contract beside it. "Just copy these answers down and you'll score a minimum of 1300. There's also a payout clause on it that states you get a million back if the answers are wrong." In my last life, I ended up resting in pieces because I protested against cheating. This time, I looked into my classmates' twinkling eyes and quietly took a step back. "Sounds good! You should all sign it!" After all, in my last life, I saw that there was a line of very small text at the very bottom of the contract, nearly invisible to most eyes. The contract was no contract at all!

I've been hiding my excellent grades from my childhood friend, Oliver Barton, for years because of his jealousy. A day before the college entrance exam, he comes clean to me and admits that he's been taking private tutoring lessons without my knowledge for the past three years. His grades are good, and he plans to go to an elite college after graduating high school. I stand there, stunned, listening to his every word. "Viv and I both have excellent grades. There'll soon be even more in common between us both after we go to the same college in Haven City. "Once we're in college, we'll tutor you seriously so you can also get into a better college after you repeat your year." He and my best friend, Vivian Andrade, both have no idea that I've already secured my spot at Dale University through their direct admissions program. I never told them about it because I didn't want their jealousy to jeopardize our pathetic friendship. That's why I still stay with them and study with them in class the whole time. I cling to the last shred of hope for our friendship and ask, "But what if I also manage to secure a spot at a college in Haven City?"

After the semester began, all of my dorm mates wanted a part-time job. To fit in, I said I wanted one too. One by one, my dorm mates found part-time jobs, while I was still lazing around in the dorm. My dorm mate sent me a message. [How are you going to get by without a job?] I remembered a meme I'd seen online and texted back, "A kind middle-aged couple pays my bills, so I don't need a job right now." I didn't think much of it, until I stumbled across a post on social media. [My dorm mate said she wanted to get a part-time job, but all she does is lie around the dorm. When I asked how she could afford not to work, she said a married couple was paying all her bills. Should I report her for misconduct?] I thought it was funny. The comments gave her all kinds of advice. [Report her! What if she takes a scholarship spot from you?] [Exactly, get her expelled!] I still didn't think much of it until my academic advisor, Ethan Davis, showed up at my door. "Chloe, someone reported you for misconduct. They claim you're a sugar baby. Is that true?"

I'm Aiden, a background character in a melodrama novel. When the arrogant scholarship student, Brock, transferred into our school and cursed the four most powerful families as a cancer on society, I was studying. While the four heiresses dragged Brock through endless love-hate drama, I kept grinding away. That was until the midterm exams, when I snatched first place away from him. The Holdsworth heiress locked me in a dark storage room, saying she'd keep me there for three days to teach me a lesson. So I calmly dialed an encrypted number on my phone. After all, it's a trashy melodrama. Who doesn't have a hidden identity? Three minutes later, the entire school was surrounded by a fleet of helicopters...

Molly Landry, our neighbor's daughter, has been living off my family's money while pretending to be some generous rich girl. At school, she gets the entire class to turn on me. They shut me out and bully me. When the class fund goes missing, Molly frames me for stealing it. Then she takes the accusation online and makes me out to be a thief. The internet tears me to shreds, and my reputation is destroyed. But Molly still isn't done. She teams up with my family's driver to steal confidential company files and sell them to a competitor. Our company goes bankrupt, and when the creditors come after us, my entire family is brutally murdered. Meanwhile, Molly builds her entire online persona around standing up for what's right. Her livestreams make her a fortune, and she ends up with everything she could ever want. Then I open my eyes and find myself back on the day Molly invites our entire class on a trip to Maldelis. I immediately pull out my phone and tell Mom to cut her off. This time, with my family no longer paying her way, I want to see how long Molly can keep up the rich-girl act.

Ada, my cheap-as-hell roommate and student rep for our accounting cohort, suddenly started acting weird. "Yo, listen up! Seafood buffet tomorrow night. Bosfa. My treat!" The class went wild. I just stared at her. Whenever we got a buy-one-get-one-half-off deal, Ada always made sure she got the cheaper drink. And now she wanted to pay for dinner for the entire class? Yeah. Something was seriously off. That night, I grabbed my ID and valuables and checked into a hotel near campus, telling everyone I needed quiet to study for exams. The next morning, my phone started buzzing nonstop. I opened the class group chat. It was exploding. Over ninety-nine unread messages. Then Lily called me, sobbing. "Simone, where are you? Help us... Ada's a monster! She sold us all out!"

The human traffickers sold me to a remote mountain village when I was young. My parents spent a fortune searching for me and even offered a massive reward for my safe return. They finally found me when I was 16. My parents and three older brothers held me in their arms and wept. After that, they did everything they could to make up for the sixteen years we'd lost. I had more designer clothes than I could ever wear, more luxury handbags than I could ever carry, and a place at an elite private school. On my first day, my oldest brother tied a rosary he'd personally prayed over to my backpack. My second brother bought me the latest phone. My third brother patted me on the shoulder. "Valerie, tell us if anyone dares to bully you." Later, I ranked first in the school on the midterm exams. After class, Cassie Nolan tore my exam paper to shreds in front of everyone. "So what if you got the highest score? You're still just a country bumpkin." She ordered several girls to pin me against the wall, then stared at me with a smug smile. "Now go to the dean and tell him you cheated." "I didn't!" I fought back with all my strength, but Cassie slapped me hard across the face. The blow left me dizzy. What she didn't know was that I was the Miller heiress. My father, Nathan Miller, was the chairman of the Miller Group, a billionaire who controlled much of the city's real estate industry. My oldest brother, Zachary Miller, was a top attorney. A single due diligence report from him could send a publicly traded company's stock price crashing. My second brother, Tyler Miller, was the founder of Starwave Technologies. His company's technology powered nearly seventy percent of the country's smart-city projects. My third brother, Caleb Miller, was a superstar with eighty million social media followers and his own top-tier PR firm. Mess with me, and you'd mess with the entire Miller family. Cassie had just kicked the hornet's nest.