Healing Family Emotions 단편 소설 & 소설

"Today is supposed to be a good day. We're choosing Wendy's dowry. Stop standing there bringing bad luck down on us!" My mother pulled my sister back in disgust, afraid the blood I had coughed onto the floor would splash the silver-bound chest. When a forest elf girl is born, her family plants a bonded tree for her, a tree that lives and dies with its owner. When a daughter marries, her eldest brother takes the old branches the tree has dropped on its own and builds her a dowry chest, a sign symbolizing a lifelong covenant of love and kinship. The chest is filled with gowns and with whatever the family gives her, and the larger the chest, the deeper the blessing. My brother cut my tree down and damaged its roots as well. "Wendy's tree is too thin and weak. It isn't worthy of the Royal Court. I had no choice but to saw yours into boards and put together a respectable chest for her." My sister stroked the silver-bound chest made from my ancient tree like a highborn princess. The whole family gathered around her to pick out what would go inside, as though they had forgotten that I was a bride that day too. My voice shook. "Then what about me?" My mother looked at me shaking there, and her face filled with disgust. "You insist on marrying that short-lived human. A wicker basket is dowry enough for you." Only in that moment did I understand that to them my life mattered less than Wendy's dignity. So I no longer had to treat them as family.

After my sister stole my boyfriend 11 times, I decided to take action. I went out and found myself a fool to date, just to see if she'd still try to take him away. But I never expected that one day, my "foolish" boyfriend would stop being so dumb. In fact, he became a scoundrel.

To encourage overall development, the kindergarten had asked each student to create a hand-drawn poster. My daughter Holly refused my help and insisted on doing it all on her own. Little did I know, most of the other children had their parents do the artwork for them. In comparison, Holly's delicate strokes were quickly dismissed. Not only was her work discarded into the trash, but her teacher also called her out in the parent group, criticizing her for being careless with the assignment. As I racked my brain trying to figure out how to help Holly regain her confidence in drawing, I was surprised to see Holly's artwork among the winning entries in the state-level children's art competition. But the signature wasn't hers—it belonged to another student from her class.

The day I became the state's SATs valedictorian, my father, with his dyed blond hair, got so excited he put his food delivery helmet on crooked. He threw his arms around my mother, tears streaming down his face. "Honey! See that? I told you our genes were anything but ordinary! The curse's been lifted! Our son's gone and become the greatest of all time!" My mother, who had just dyed her hair purple, smacked her thigh as she shed tears of joy. "Bull! This is all because I quit the club scene for good and started selling grilled cheese sandwiches at the night market! God has seen my sincerity and rewarded us for it!" As I watched them celebrate like a pair of overgrown teenagers, I read the floating comments across my vision and had to blink away my tears. "You dummies, this has nothing to do with luck!" "You two swallowed so much bitterness just so your son could stand tall in public! Frankie over here got beaten and didn't dare fight back while Tanya pricked her fingers raw just to support his studies. You two sacrificed everything you had just so he could live well."

I was eighteen when I donated one of my kidneys to Susie Grant, but she died to transplant rejection anyway, and I was chased out of the Grant family. Before long, the surgery incision festered, and I died of infection in the streets. When I opened my eyes again, I was five once more, and it was the day I was taken back to the Grant family's home. But this time, my brother Harry stepped in front of our parents, pointing at me as he said, "There's been a mistake. She's not actually my sister." Seeing the look of contempt in his eyes, I knew he had reincarnated too. As our parents left in disappointment, he shoved me a piece of candy and told me, "The Grant family just needs one daughter. There's no place for you among us if you can't save Susie."

After fifteen years away, I was finally brought back to the DeLuca family. I thought I was returning to my real home. Instead, I walked into a house where the adopted daughter wanted me dead, my father treated me like a burden, and my brothers would rather watch me bleed than make her cry. On my first day back, she set dogs on me. That night, I was dragged to the top of the observatory and forced to apologize to her. When I fell from the tower covered in blood, they still called me a liar. Because in the DeLuca family, I may have been the real daughter by blood— but she was the daughter they loved. She thought she could bully me, poison me, and freeze me to death without consequence. She was wrong. Because the night I nearly died, my mother finally chose me—and turned a gun on the whole DeLuca family.

I secretly married my husband for six years, and then his first love came back. I decide to leave with my child and let his first love take her rightful place.

This marks the third year since Alan Cohen and I became mates, and today's finally the day of the Luna ceremony. As the ceremony begins, Alan takes my hand. But then he hesitates, refusing to move forward. I'm still trying to make sense of it when my adoptive sister, Eden Parker, suddenly breaks into the mind-link. She says she's just ended a failed mate bond with another Alpha and will be back within the hour. That's when I see a flicker of a smile on Alan's face. Then, without a second glance, he lets go of my hand and walks away. I turn to my adoptive brother, Dexter Parker, and my adoptive father, Hank Parker, hoping for some kind of comfort, only to realize they've already left the ceremony with Alan. And just like that, I became the joke of the entire pack. Eden sends me a photo. She's glowing beside Alan, her arm looped through Dexter's, with Hank beaming next to them. That's when I give up. I reach out through the mind-link to my birth father. "Dad, I'm ready to return to the Bloodmoon Pack."

I used to be treated like a princess in Lumenclaw Pack. But the first day after my eighteenth birthday, my Alpha dad brought home a charity case—Callie from the welfare center. Everything flipped. Ryell, my own brother, ditched me for her. Jovan, my future mate? Shielded her. Even Dad called her sweet, kind—"a thousand times better than you." Graduation Day. Strike 101. They picked her. Again. "Aren't I your real family?" Dad hesitated—but only to hide Callie behind him like some precious thing. Her fake tears. His real slap. "Such a petty wolf. I wish I'd never had you." Ryell sneered, "Having a sister like you makes me sick. Get out!" I didn't scream. Didn't cry. Just packed and walked. They thought I'd break like always—cry, forgive, crawl back. But not this time. I called my mom. Took her offer. Moved to her distant pack. If they wanted me gone, wish granted. So why the hell did they come begging when they realized I meant it?

The day my father's enemies kidnapped and tortured me, my family was celebrating my sister Isa's eighteenth birthday. The next day, she would be handed over to the Cammarata family, our rivals, to seal an alliance through marriage. My father is a Don with more enemies than he can count. When I was ten, the two families arranged a marriage alliance to keep the peace. If the two families ever went to war again, the one who'd been married off would be killed first to send a message. On the day they chose the bride, my sister grabbed the token first: a signet ring. From that day on, she was the one this family loved. My mother always said Isa was suffering in my place. So I had to give way to her in everything and protect her. Whatever my sister wanted, I had to hand it over. When we were little, an assassination attempt forced our car off the road. I clutched her to me during the crash and broke my own leg. When my mother arrived, she pulled Isa into her arms first, then turned on me. "Your sister's arm is all scraped up. Couldn't you have protected her better?" I pretended it didn't matter and went to the hospital alone. But I cried anyway while they set my leg. This time, when they kidnapped me, I dropped to my knees and begged for one call for help. I didn't hesitate for a second. I called my parents. My mother had already lost her patience. "Do you have to compete for attention even on your sister's birthday? After today, you can do whatever you want. I'm hanging up." But there wasn't going to be an after today, Mom. As I took my last breath while they tortured me, one thought filled my mind. If I died in my sister's place, would that finally make them happy?

Our pack has a tradition that goes back 100 years. When a pup turns one month old, her father plants a moonsilk vine with his own hands, and it grows alongside her. When the pup first shifts into wolf form, her mother harvests the ripe silk from the vine. From that moonsilk, she weaves two moon robes by hand. At the bonding, the she-wolf wears the long gown, and her mate wears the matching robe. Fur from both wolves is sewn into the lining of each robe. The robes symbolize one moon, one pack, and two mates with one heart. My twin sister, Lise, and I were both due to have our bonding ceremonies at the next full moon. A week before the ceremony, my mother brought Lise her finished gown. The gown shimmered silver in the moonlight. Lise couldn't stop touching it. My mother watched her fondly. "My little pup is about to be mated. I can hardly bear to let you go." My father tried to sound stern, but he couldn't hide his smile. "If Cecil doesn't treat you right, I'll tear his throat out!" I watched her with envy, hoping I'd get a gown like that too. "Mother, my bonding ceremony is at the next full moon too." My mother waved me off impatiently. "There wasn't enough moonsilk. Yours went to Lise too." I froze where I stood. My father glanced at me and said offhandedly, "Just buy a white dress for your bonding. It's the same thing. And stop sulking and making this hard on everyone." As I looked at the gown, I remembered how carefully my mother had tended the moonsilk vines in the moonlight. She'd once told me, "A bonding decides whether a wolf will be accepted by her mate's pack. It's one of the most important moments of your life." But they didn't care about my bonding ceremony at all. In that case, it was time I left the pack.

I had a miscarriage and was confined in the ICU. Meanwhile, my husband was off traveling the world with his first love. It wasn't until he decided to divorce me that he finally remembered I existed. He called my mother, demanding to know how long I planned to act out. She was disheartened, looking at me, who was barely clinging to life. "Shannon will never cause you trouble again! Happy now?" she snapped.

"Mommy, can I stop being a Lawson?" My daughter has a peanut allergy. We always kept an EpiPen at home. But on her birthday, my husband took the only one and gave it to his first love's son. He said, "Tommy's school has a field trip. Serena's worried something might happen. What's the big deal about lending it?" Later, my daughter accidentally ate peanut butter. Her face turned blue and she couldn't breathe. I rushed her to the hospital and called my husband seventeen times. He didn't answer. His first love's son had just won first place in a speech contest. He was in the audience, taking photos of the two of them. When my daughter woke up, her first words weren't "Where's Daddy?" She just clutched the hem of my shirt and whispered, "Mommy, can I stop being a Lawson?" I looked at the needle marks on the back of her hand and nodded. "Yes." "From now on, you'll have Mommy's last name."

My husband doesn't love me or our daughter. It's been six years since she was born, but he's never held her. The doctors say he has an emotional disorder, and that he doesn't know how to express the way he feels. But when his true love returns, he smiles at us for the first time. He even brings our daughter a gift. I think it's because he's finally seen sense… until she and I see the photo he uses as his phone's wallpaper. In it, his eyes are crinkled as he smiles. He has one arm around a little girl whose front tooth is missing, and he holds his true love's hand with the other. My daughter tugs on my hand, and her eyes redden. "Mommy, do you think we should leave? Should we give Daddy three final chances? Let's leave him if he still doesn't want us after that."

I was Victor Costa's sickly wife. He was the CEO of the Costa Group and had married me despite his family's objections. On the opening day of the Costa Foundation's centennial charity week, I passed out from low blood sugar on the livestream. My husband, Victor, was in Europe for meetings, and his sister, Isabella Costa, was sure I was faking again. But after Dr. Rossi examined me, he frowned and asked her, "She's been malnourished for a long time, and her prescription hasn't been refilled in at least three months. Doesn't anyone feed her?" The livestream comments exploded with laughter. [Mrs. Costa, malnourished? I'd sooner believe the Costa Group had gone bankrupt.] Everyone knew Victor set aside two million dollars a month for my care and had hired a private doctor and nutritionist just for me. Isabella thought I was overdoing it, too. That is, until she searched my bag and found half a pack of glucose tablets I'd been rationing, a prepaid card with only seven dollars left, and three declined-payment slips from the pharmacy. I said quietly, "Victor told me I only get $200 a month to live on. "My medicine is too expensive. If I stop taking it for a while, I won't die right away." Isabella called her brother on the spot. "You only give your wife $200 a month?" Victor's voice turned cold. "What do you mean, $200? "I sign off on two million dollars for her every month, and I've never pulled her medical team!"

After my death, my parents sign an organ donor consent form on my behalf. They have my corneas removed and transplanted onto their beloved adoptive daughter, Grace Lane. She later marries my brother, and they become a true family. Grace and I competed over everything in life, yet I ended up dying with nothing. Now that I've been given a chance to start over, I decide to live life without them. Surprisingly, I find myself getting a happy ending.

At the annual gala, my father had me marry Asher Ziegler, a rising star in the finance industry whom he had groomed. Back then, I, Maddison Gruber, had no idea that Asher was in love with someone else. Sometime later, my father's company is investigated for product fraud, and his company's stock plummets. He even faces criminal charges. When this happens, Asher immediately brings his first love, Cora Singer, home and tells me outright that he is going to make her his legally wedded wife. My mother-in-law admonishes me. "Your family's bankrupt now, and you're completely barren! Why shouldn't my son remarry?" Asher slides a divorce agreement in front of me, his tone condescending. "Sign this, and I can let you stay here and live alongside Cora." But I say nothing. I merely quietly book a ticket to leave this place. In seven days, I will be following my father down south.

My physics teacher held up my test paper with an 18-point score in front of all the students and parents and said, “Students like this are hopeless. I don’t even know how someone like this passed the high school entrance exam. “I didn’t think there was a way to cheat on the high school entrance exam, but it turns out there is. It gives people like this a chance to cheat.” He did not just insult my intelligence but also questioned my character and family. “Well, it’s not surprising. Only a junk-collecting family could raise a kid like this.” I curled up in my seat, too scared to say anything. But my stepmom could not stand it anymore. She smacked the chalk box off his desk, pointed at him, and yelled, “Who do you think you’re talking about?! “I send my kid to school and pay all the tuition and book fees! How did it turn into us being a junk-collecting family?! “You can’t even teach properly, and I haven’t called you out for it! Have you no shame?! You don’t deserve to be called a teacher! You’re just a piece of trash!” For some reason, she suddenly seemed imposing and heroic to me.

I spent five years beside Kaelan, heir to the Elf King, and bore him a son, yet he never once acknowledged me in public. He said that when he became Elf King, he would give us the highest standing there was. Instead, at the Elven Assembly, he announced that another woman was his fiancée, then personally handed her our son's life-saving elixir to use as a facial treatment. Later I took my child away to the border, and he was finally willing to acknowledge us. But the child who used to run after him calling him Dad no longer needed a father.

The day Joe Tanner’s parents died and his classmates cornered him in cruel bullying, I was the one who jumped into the river to save him—and lost my heart to him in that moment. For the next ten years, I poured everything I had into him. I hid my own admission letter to Great Eastern University. I washed dishes until my hands cracked, hauled bricks until my shoulders bled, even sold the pocket watch my mother left me—all so he could study without worry. I watched him rise from a ridiculed illegitimate child to a celebrated professor at the very peak of academia. All I ever wanted in return was a home we could call ours. But the day he achieved success, he forgot the woman who had built his world. So, I made my choice— If he could abandon my love, then I would walk away without looking back.