Familial Bond Short Stories & Novels

There are only ten minutes left before the college application portal closes. I'm about to go to bed when my phone suddenly rings. The number is strange and untraceable. I answer. "Hello?" A hoarse male voice comes through the phone. "Adrian, your parents changed your college application!" I freeze, my heart skipping a beat. "Who are you?" I ask, my voice trembling. "I'm you, ten years from now." There is a crushing sense of despair in his voice. I don't believe him. "That's impossible!" He lets out a sigh. "Your brother bombed his exams, didn't he? Your parents changed your application to the same community college he applied to, all because they wanted to make him feel better. If you don't believe me, log in and check for yourself." I immediately sign into the application portal. And there it is. The prestigious university I applied to has been replaced with a community college. I stare at the screen in disbelief. I have always known my parents favored Julian. I just never imagined they could take it this far, to the point that they would gamble with my entire future just to keep him happy.

I was the long-lost daughter of the wealthiest family. On my first day back, I was handed a two-hundred-million-dollar trust fund. But that very night, I found out our entire family was doomed to end badly. We were mere cannon fodder in someone else’s story. My father was the overbearing tycoon who would be publicly humiliated and driven into bankruptcy by the male lead. My mother was the harsh, spiteful mother-in-law who made the female lead’s life miserable. My brother was the devoted second male lead who willingly played the fool and got cheated on. My adoptive sister was the tragic “first love” supporting character, destined for a miserable end. Me: “Wow. Just great.”

I was the lowest-ranked Omega in the Moen pack. However, my fiancé Silas Moen was the Alpha who stood above us all. I thought the bond the Moon Goddess had made between us could never be shaken. That certainty lasted until his long-lost childhood sweetheart returned. Brynn, the flawless, highborn werewolf with an ancient bloodline. In front of my parents and brothers, before more than a thousand members of our pack, he made his announcement. "I, Silas Moen, as Alpha, reject you. "Brynn and I were promised to each other long ago. She's back now, and you should step aside for her." The instant he finished, something inside my chest ripped apart. I collapsed onto my knees on the altar's frozen stone and tried to scramble toward him to demand an explanation. Nobody in that silent crowd stepped forward. My father looked away and said coldly, "Brynn has already suffered for years out there. You shouldn't fight her over this." My eldest brother, Rian Valentine, blocked my way. "Talia, it's time you saw yourself clearly. You're no match for Brynn. "If you insist on opposing this mating, I'll sever our family ties." The System detected that Silas's affection level for me had fallen to zero and activated automatically. [Talia, this assignment has failed. Your heart is predicted to stop in ten days, after which a new body will be created for you. Do you confirm that you wish to abandon this assignment?] Even as I lay facedown in the frozen mud, I couldn't help laughing. Failed? No. I could finally leave. I had no strength left to love, but death would set me free.

On the day of the topping-out ceremony for the resettlement housing, my mother, Diana Knowles, insists on reporting me to the authorities for shoddy workmanship. It's all because my cousin, Marco Sanford, went to play at the construction site, stepped into the freshly set cement, and scraped his knee. "You think you're so great just because you built a couple of buildings?" Mom screams at me. "I can't just stand by and watch you put the whole town in danger just to make millions of dollars by pocketing the difference!" Marco clutches his bandage and explains quietly, "It's all my fault for climbing over the fence to play there, Aunt Diana. The construction workers even tried to stop me. It really has nothing to do with Kevin." The project supervisor, Pete Warner, and the town mayor, Hugo Larkin, also hurriedly produce the inspection report. "Mrs. Sanford, the cement, steel bars, and load-bearing cement are all up to standard. This project is a public housing project that the state government is monitoring very closely, and it's going to be a huge deal if we even stop work for a day." Mom, however, holds her head high and yells in a voice louder than a megaphone, saying, "If Kevin dares to let his relatives get hurt at the construction site, then who knows what else he'll dare to do to the rest of the people by giving them shoddy construction? "Stop flattering him! The fact that he became the project manager for this proves that I understand better than you what it means to be a reliable person!"

When my stepsister, Kate Lawrence, is poisoned at the full moon ceremony, my father, Jack Blackwood, condemns me at once, convinced that I am the one behind it. He clamps silver chains around me and drags me into the manor's dark underground cell. His eyes burn hatefully as he snarls, "You wretch! How could I have a daughter like you? Rot in here!" I drop to my knees on the cold floor and try to explain, but the sentence he throws over his shoulder as he turns away snuffs out the last of my hope. "Even if she dies in there, no one shall go in! Whoever lets her out will die with her!" The cell severs the mind-link completely, so no one hears me screaming. Seven days later, he finally remembers me, not knowing that I'd already died on the fourth day when the silver burned through to the bone.

The day I took over the Ashford family, a man from another world took over my body. He used my identity as head of the Ashford family to fawn over my three adoptive sisters and devote himself to winning them over. "The original owner of this body was far too cold-hearted. A thoughtful man like me, who knows how to treat women well, is the one who can win their hearts." But his efforts ended with my three adoptive sisters pushing him into the ocean after the nanny’s son shed a few tears. When I opened my eyes again, my two sisters were already storming in to accuse me. "Stop pretending. You knew Cade is afraid of water, yet you still pushed him into the pool.” "You only swallowed a few mouthfuls of water. Don’t think this little pity act will win you any sympathy!" "Kneel down and apologize to Cade right now." "Smack!" I slapped them both across the face. Then I wiped my hands. "When did the people living under my roof start thinking they could challenge me? The Blackridge mining project needs workers. You two will do."

On my birthday, my acceptance letter from Mar University finally arrived. Mom even did something completely out of character: she ordered my favorite strawberry cake. For a moment, I thought my parents had finally remembered that today wasn’t just the day for my brother’s medical checkup—it was my birthday, too. However, right after I blew out the candles, Mom pulled out my brother’s acceptance letter from a local community college. “Mason, your brother didn’t do well in his SATs, so he’ll only be able to get into a community college,” she said. “His health is poor, and he can’t handle the stress of retaking the SATs.” Dad cleared his throat, assuming his usual stance as the head of the family. “You two are identical twins, and you look completely alike,” he stated. “So we’ve talked it over. We’re going to have Ethan use your identification and report to Mar University in your place.” The sweet smell of strawberries filled my nose, but it only made me feel sick to my stomach. I stared at Dad, wondering if I had misheard him. “What about me, then?” Mom instantly grabbed my hand. “You’ll use Ethan’s identity to retake your senior year and try again next year,” she urged. “You’re in good health, and you’ve always gotten good grades. Isn’t it just a one-year delay?” It was that same excuse again. Ever since we were kids, I had to give up countless things just because my brother was frail. But this time, this was my life, and I didn’t want to give it up anymore.

My adopted sister, an Omega who has always seemed delicate, harmless, and wolf-less, vanishes the night before full moon. Everyone, including my parents and my mate—the Alpha who's supposed to protect me—blames me for driving her away. They drag me to the Memory Offering altar, bind my wolf in silver chains, and demand the truth from my memories. Little do they know that my body has been laced with 99 silver needles, buried deep under my skin, each one driven in by the hand of the innocent girl they adore the most. The silverbane has seeped through my blood, eating away at my bones and my wolf spirit. I don't have long. So, I seize control. I invoke the oldest rite in the pack, the Memory Offering, to let them see the truth with their own eyes. For three years, I've been the one who was framed, humiliated, and tortured. Meanwhile, my so-called gentle sister is the real monster behind it all. By the time the truth is revealed, the silverbane has devoured my soul. Bathed in the blinding white light of the rite, I die on that cold, stone altar, with a pain that cuts to the bone and a peace that feels almost like freedom.

I've always had a small appetite. I start feeling nauseated and throw up if I eat more than seven ounces of food in a meal. As a result, I'm 44 pounds lighter than my younger sister, Charlotte Lancaster, who is six years younger than me. Every time I watch Charlotte eat heartily, stuffing herself with all sorts of food and meat, I feel a secret thrill. I look at my slender wrists and prominent ribs, and I feel proud of myself. Sometimes, Mom cries and asks why I've become like this. Seeing how much my condition hurts her makes me feel satisfied. Dad runs himself ragged making appointments with specialists for me, working so hard that his hair turns white. Yet I feel strangely happy. When the psychologist, Dr. Folston, asks if there's some deep-seated emotional issue holding me back, I shake my head and tell her that I have always been favored and spoiled by my parents since I was little. How could I possibly have any emotional baggage? It isn't until Mom completely breaks down in the consultation room that she falls to her knees and begs at my feet. "Please, forgive us. Please stop putting yourself through this, okay?"

On the night of the Independence Day long weekend, my whole family is gathered at a rustic country lodge when a group of masked men suddenly burst through the doors, carrying machetes. "Your sister owes us $450,000 in gambling debt! Either we kill every last one of you, or you hand over a young man to work overseas until the debt is paid off!" My brother, Elliot Hart, is frightened to tears. Dad steps in front of him protectively, then turns to me and drops to his knees. "Harry, your brother has a heart condition. He won't survive out there! Please, can you go in his place?" My fiancée of seven years, Emily Rockwell, doesn't dare to meet my eyes as she pushes me forward with her own hands. "If sacrificing one person saves the rest of us, then you shouldn't be selfish." Seeing my family's cold, avoidant gaze, my heart turns to stone. I mutter an excuse about getting a jacket and slip into the bathroom. From beneath the sink, I pull out a bottle of herbicide and tip it back, gulping down more than half the bottle. When I open the door, ready to face whatever comes next, I notice that all the lights in the main hall are suddenly on. Then, a burst of laughter explodes around me. Elliot, who was just sobbing hysterically moments ago, is now holding up his phone, laughing so hard he can barely stand. "Guys, we got him! The prank was a success! Harry was practically shitting himself!" The masked men take off their hoods as well. It turns out they are just friends of Emily and my sister, Diane Hart. Emily squeezes my stiff shoulder and says, "Relax. Elliot was filming a prank video. None of it was real." A searing pain surges up from the depths of my throat as I stare at their laughing faces. The debt collectors are fake. The machetes are fake. But the poison I just swallowed is real.

My family decided our graduation trips with a random draw. My adopted sister, Clarine Prescott, and I would each get our own destination. Somehow, my parents and even my fiancé, Loic Beaumont, all ended up with Hawaii—the destination Clarine wanted. I was the only one who drew Wrangel Island, a remote place few people had ever visited. Loic gave me an apologetic look and kissed my forehead. "I really wish I could go with you, but rules are rules. We all agreed on this." I didn't learn the truth until dinner. I'd stepped outside to take a call, and as I headed back inside, I overheard my family whispering. "Thank God Theona didn't catch on. She never noticed us slipping the Hawaii tickets into our hands before the draw." Loic let out a relieved breath. My mother scoffed. "Well, Theona was raised by poor people, after all. She's nothing like Clarine. That girl's always been sharp." My father, Charles Prescott, nodded. "The drawing was a good idea, Loic. I'm always on edge whenever we travel with Theona. She's so clueless about how to behave that I'm constantly worried she'll embarrass us again." Inside, they were laughing and chatting away, but every word cut me like a knife. So I was the one who didn't belong. Fine. If that's what they want, I'll give it to them. I'll walk out of their lives for good.

After my body was taken over by a conqueror for five years, I finally got it back. Full of hope, I rushed to see the family I had missed so much. What I got instead were their cold and complicated expressions. My girlfriend even asked me directly, "Why did you come back?" I was deeply disappointed, but I still refused to believe that they had already given their hearts to the conqueror. In my despair, I made a deal with the System. "Please bring that conqueror back." My family happily welcomed his return. But they never knew the truth. The conqueror's real goal was to push them all into absolute ruin.

My husband was like a broken record. His answer was always the same. "I can't leave." On our wedding anniversary, he said he couldn't leave because he had to take Natalie Rivers out and cheer her up. When I miscarried, he couldn't leave because he had to take Natalie to therapy. Even when my mother died, he still gave me the same answer. "I really can't leave. Natalie's depression has come back, and she can't be alone." Still weak after my miscarriage, I kept vigil alone for three days. That was when I finally understood. To him, neither our baby's life nor my mother's life mattered. My relatives were shocked to see me handling everything alone. "Josh really isn't coming?" After saying my final goodbye to my mother, I stood up and answered calmly. "No. He doesn't have that obligation anymore."

When the deep freeze hit, my parents took my younger sister, Jayla Wilson, and all our supplies to a shelter, leaving me with nothing but my mentally unstable uncle. "There are only three spots for our family on the evacuation list. Jayla is still young. She has to come with us." Mom shoved the last ration bar into Jayla's pocket before pointing at the man chained up in the corner. "You can stay here with this useless burden and wait for the next rescue team." I looked at the man shivering in the corner. He was my Uncle Xavier, once a genius in physics. A physics experiment had cost him one hand and driven him mad. From then on, he had become the family disgrace. "Mom, are you sure?" I surveyed the completely emptied basement, then pointed at my uncle. "I suggest you take Uncle Xavier with you and leave Jayla behind." "Are you insane? I don't even want you! Why would I take that useless cripple?" Watching my family flee in a panic, I smiled. I just hoped they wouldn't regret their decision. After all, the useless burden they'd abandoned was the only hope of survival in this frozen apocalypse...

In my seventh year of dating Elliot Sheppard, he pulls every string to save the exiled daughter of his imprisoned mentor—Margot Fairgrave—and gives her a wedding that makes headlines. "Professor Fairgrave was my guiding light and a man of integrity, who'd never yield to corruption. I owe it to him to protect his daughter," he declares. The Sheppard family, with their billion-dollar empire and strict family rules, will never accept a daughter-in-law like Margot. So, to secure her place, he demands that our son call her "Mom" and tells the world that I am just the nanny. He promises. "Just wait. Once I collect enough evidence to prove that Professor Fairgrave was framed, I'll return everything to the way it was." For three years, I waited and watched their picture-perfect family of three. My son no longer knows me as his mother, yet I remain their lowly nanny. Since I can't possibly wait forever, I've decided to stop waiting.

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.

On New Year's Eve, my little brother begs me to play hide-and-seek with him. The moment I cover my eyes and count to 30, the "eraser" in my mind starts moving again. I stand frozen for a few seconds, then turn around, go back inside, and start watching TV. An hour later, Mom crouches down in front of me. "Sweetheart, where's your little brother?" Little brother? I blink, confused. "I don't have a little brother…" Her expression drops instantly. Leaving the New Year's Eve dinner untouched, everyone surges out into the heavy snow. But no matter how hard we search, we can't find my brother. Mom raises her hand and slaps me hard across the face. Her eyes bloodshot. "Didn't I tell you to keep your brother company? Didn't I tell you not to let him out of your sight?" she screams. "Where is he now? Which way did he go? Answer me!" I'm shoved to the ground, tumbling into the snow and ice. "Why couldn't it have been you who got lost, you idiot? It's not like you can remember a single thing anyway! "You forgot your brother this time. What's next? Are you going to forget your father and me, too?" Mom lunges forward, wanting to strike me again, but Dad grabs her and holds her back. They won't stop crying, and my heart aches alongside them. She's right. Why couldn't it have been me, the idiot, who got lost instead?

After my younger brother died, my parents and grandfather all killed themselves. Each of them died in a different way, but they shared one thing in common: Before their deaths, every one of them had read my brother's suicide note. And in that note, there was only a single sentence. Reporters fought for a chance to interview me. The police interrogated me overnight. Countless people wanted to know what that sentence said. But I never told anyone. Until the tenth anniversary of my brother's death, when I saw a figure standing in front of his grave. At that moment, I felt an overwhelming sense of excitement. Because I knew my turn had finally come.

The year my younger brother, Casey Sullivan, is diagnosed with a heart disease, the doctor says he won't live past 25 years old. From then on, everyone keeps repeating the same thing. "Casey doesn't have much time left." Wanda Locke, my childhood friend, throws my birthday cake into the trash. "Casey doesn't have much time left. He can't eat anything sweet, so just let him have this." Gia Sullivan, my older sister, tears up my acceptance letter to the boxing program at the sports university. "Casey doesn't have much time left. He can't box, and watching you practice would upset him. So just let him have this." My fiancée, Hazel Grant, postpones our wedding three times. "Casey doesn't have much time left. He'll never get the chance to marry. Just let him have this." I ask them, "Just because Casey doesn't have long to live, does that mean I don't deserve to live either?" Mom hears this and immediately goes on a hunger strike. She lies down in the hospital bed next to Casey's. "If I can't even make this sacrifice for Casey, then I'll die with him." On the third day, I stand outside the hospital room and swear never to bring up the wedding again. Later, Casey wants to experience being in love. Mom says, "Casey doesn't have much time left. He's never been in a relationship, so let him have Hazel for a few years." I walk out of the hospital room. "Casey doesn't have much time left, but I want to live a little longer. That's why I'm leaving."

After the SAT, Mom and Dad give Henry Simpson, my brother, a Rolex. I, on the other hand, receive nothing but the missing admission ticket. Dad says, "I found your admission ticket under the couch last night, Gavin. It's too bad you couldn't take the SAT with Henry this year, but don't beat yourself up because of this. You should just treat this admission ticket as a lesson to be more careful when you retake the SAT next year." The admission ticket before me carries a subtle scent, a smell that belongs exclusively to Mom and Dad's closet. Dad continues, "You have nothing to worry about, Gavin. I'll give you a watch too once you retake the SAT next year and get accepted into a good university." I laugh under my breath in disbelief. They are telling me to retake the SAT, not knowing that I have already received guaranteed admission to Crestvale University. I only registered for the SAT this time to accompany Henry and go through the motions so that he wouldn't feel insecure or mess up his test scores. If Mom and Dad are willing to hide my admission ticket for Henry's sake, then I no longer care about the so-called family bond between us.