Melodramatic Family Emotions 단편 소설 & 소설

To keep my grandmother's failing organs stable, I simmered a medicinal broth for her every day and strictly controlled her diet. Then the Whitmore family's long-lost real son was brought home. "You're feeding my grandmother something that looks like slop? Julian Whitmore, what kind of heart does a fake son like you have?" The butler wiped sweat from his forehead. "Sir, this is Mr. Whitmore's specially prepared medicinal broth. The old madam's been drinking it for years, and her health has only--" "Shut up!" Tyler Whitmore threw an all-foreign-language menu in my face. "I've consulted top nutritionists overseas. What Grandma needs now is protein!" "I've had the finest bluefin tuna flown in. From now on, I'll handle Grandma's diet myself." My grandma, Irene Whitmore, stayed silent. She merely glanced at me, which counted as approval. I forced out a smile and turned to leave. "Fine. Then take good care of her." They had no idea Grandma had been poisoned with a rare tropical toxin. That bowl of medicine was a suppressant I had prepared specifically for her. Once she stopped taking it and touched seafood or other triggering foods, the poison would backlash instantly.

I was suffering from period cramps, so I ordered some painkillers. I asked for a woman to deliver my painkillers to me, but a drunken man came over instead. This time, I did not call my brothers for help. I called the police instead. In the past, not only did my brothers send all of their bodyguards to me, but they also rushed back. In the process, they ended up missing the theater performance of our adopted sister, Gloria. Gloria was sad and grabbed a prop to stab herself. My brothers comforted me. “Don’t blame yourself for it. At the very least, you’re safe.” But, right after, they arranged my kidnapping and gave me over to a group of drunkards. “That was just a drunkard. You could have just chased him out. Did you have to call us? Look! Gloria’s dead now! You’re not getting out of this alive either!” When I opened my eyes again, I returned to the time when the drunkard was knocking on the door. This time, I did not call them, and my brothers got to watch Gloria’s theater performance and cheered her on. But once the performance ended, they regretted it.

I had a knack for copying people. Back in elementary school, the principal's father called him "buddy", so that was how I addressed the principal for six straight years. On graduation day, the man practically threw a party when I finally walked out of his school. In middle school, a rich kid mocked me by chomping down on fresh raspberries right in my face. So I gobbled down a whole box and ended up in the ER from a severe allergic reaction. Since then, the rich kid would check the ingredient list before eating anything in front of me. By high school, the most popular girl in school accused me of bullying and threatened to overdose on sleeping pills. In response, I swallowed an entire bottle of pills and landed myself in the hospital for three days. The girl never tried to play the victim again. My friends became terrified that I'd pick up some terrible habits. Whenever we went to the movies, they preferred to keep it PG by watching Peppa Pig. It would be their worst nightmare if I were to hurt myself. One day, I was told that my biological parents had tracked me down. As soon as I was brought home, I stared at the girl who had taken my place. Right on cue, the girl clutched her chest and teared up. "Do you hate me? It's okay. I won't get in your way." She turned around and tried to throw herself off the stair railing. My parents caught her before she could jump and scolded me, "London has depression! Even the slightest bit of hurt can make her suicidal! Are you doing this deliberately?" I said nothing. My focus was on opening the window and stepping out of the window on the fourth floor.

From birth, I was the unwanted pup. At three, Mom left me for another pack. At five, my eldest brother forced chili water down my throat and made me say it tasted good. My second brother would deliberately ditch me at the pack nursery entrance, leaving me to find my way back through the dark woods alone. My third brother would gang up with other pups to humiliate me. The worst came when both the neighbor cub and I fell sick with moon-fever. Dad didn't hesitate for a second to carry her to the hospital, but he brushed me off like I was faking it. Until—I'd shake uncontrollably and throw up whenever I saw them... That's when they finally started freaking out. Dad broke down crying and begged me: "Sweetie, can you please just call me 'Daddy' one more time?"

In my past life, my selfish son stopped caring about my husband and me after marrying a woman who followed her mother's words like they were holy commandments. In fact, he orchestrates an accident to kill my husband and me under the influence of his wife and her family. It's all so he can inherit our fortunes earlier than expected. When I'm reborn, I look at my son, who's rotten to the core, and decide that I don't want him anymore!

On the third day of my business trip out of state, someone new joined the group chat formed for my son's class. It had been quiet for weeks when she suddenly sent a voice message. I tapped it, and an unfamiliar woman's voice played through my phone. "Hello, everyone. I'm the new language teacher at the school, and I'm also Tony Gardner's mother. Looking forward to getting to know you all!" My whole body went cold. I opened the group member list and checked it over and over. My son's name was Tony Gardner, and she said she was Tony Gardner's mother. Then, who the hell was I? I immediately called my husband. "Did someone get added to the parent group by mistake?" He paused on the other end before he laughed it off like it was nothing. "Oh, probably just a mix-up. The school has so many kids. It's not unusual for kids to have the same names. What's the matter? Did something happen?" I kept my voice light and told him everything was fine. The second I hung up, I booked the next flight home and headed straight to my son's school.

On Christmas, my younger brother, Tyler Posner, and I were playing “Never Have I Ever” with our relatives. After the third round, everything got intense. An uncle said he had been out in the city at 4 a.m., a cousin said he could play three instruments, and I said I had been to three different countries for work. Then, it was Tyler’s turn. He looked up with his eyes shining. “I have a house that only I own.” He paused before adding, “Mom bought it for me. She said it’s so my in-laws don’t look down on me after I marry someone.” Everyone was quiet around the dining table. I looked over at Mom. She was straightening her apron and avoiding my gaze.

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."

On New Year’s Eve, my kidnappers forced me to climb down the inside of a 650-foot industrial chimney with my bare hands. The kidnappers started a live stream on the dark web. They claimed that what I was doing could drive away bad luck and bring blessings for the country. I climbed for a full eight hours in darkness and pain. When my family caught me at the bottom of the chimney, my body was covered in sores, and I was so injured that they barely recognized me. Rachel immediately covered me with a shawl. When she helped me get into the car, she was shaking. My fiancee cried and dared not touch me. That night, she destroyed the whole criminal organization. On that ambulance ride home, I could barely think straight. I heard them whispering to each other. “Rachel, Jason just wanted an unforgettable night! You said it’s not “impressive” enough and insisted on making Yannick climb the chimney!” “Miss Jones, how could an ordinary present leave such a lasting impression on Jason?” “It doesn’t matter if Yannick suffers a little physical pain. Our family will more than make it up to him.” It turned out that the eight hours of agony I endured, which nearly killed me, were just to ensure that another man’s holiday would be “truly unforgettable.”

My stepdaughter, Alana Greenwood, brought me some abortion medicine on her Coming-of-Age Ceremony. Everyone around knew of her little "prank", but none came to stop her. Even my husband just stood and watched. I smiled bitterly as I took the medicine and drank it in one go. I immediately felt the pain in my lower abdomen. My head began to spin, but I could still hear the harsh tone in Alana’s voice. "Well, did you think you could replace my mother after giving birth to your child? Let me tell you this, Dad agreed to marry you back then because I was young and was in need of a free nanny! If you dare think about replacing my mother, you will be kicked out of the Greenwood family!" I covered my stomach and took a deep breath. "There's no need for the trouble. You're an adult now and I've completed my task. I'll leave... tomorrow."

I was the one who first spotted the pimple on my husband Ryan Bennett's back. It was plump, red, and swollen, topped with a whitehead that looked ready to burst at any moment. I rubbed my hands together in excitement and told him not to move. Once the extraction tool I'd ordered arrived, I was going to perform a little "operation" on it. He laughed and said sure, adding that he loved this weird little hobby of mine. Two days later, he came back from his business trip. I rushed over with my brand-new "surgical instruments," only to find that patch of skin smooth and clear, with nothing left but a faint red mark. My heart deflated just like that pimple. Someone had beaten me to it.

Everyone in Crowglade knows that my wife, Sophia Tuson, treats me and my son, Ashton Yates, as the apples of her eye. When I want to stargaze, she spends 100 million dollars to create an extravagant meteor shower for me. Ashton loves carousels, so she builds the biggest amusement park in the city and names it after him. She has never been stingy when it comes to showering us with love. When Ashton and I get into a car accident, Sophia hires a renowned medical team to save my life. Mustering what little strength I have left, I tell her to save Ashton first. Sophia's voice is thick with tears when she tells me that Ashton has already died of excessive bleeding on the way to the hospital. Overwhelmed by grief, I can't hold on anymore and faint. When I regain consciousness, I hear Sophia speaking with the doctor outside the door. "Mr. Ashton could have been saved, Ms. Tuson. Why did you just watch your son die without lifting a single finger to help him?" "The purpose of Ashton's existence is to save Harold's and my child," Sophia says nonchalantly. "I can't openly remove his heart and give it to Micah if he doesn't die. I've treated Gabriel and Ashton very well in the past few years. Now, it's their turn to repay me." It turns out that Sophia only treated me and Ashton so well because she wanted Ashton's heart in exchange for her kindness. She's the one who orchestrated the tragedy that befell us. If that's the case, I will grant her wish.

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.

On my sixth birthday, my mother is suddenly diagnosed with depression. There are no warning signs and no apparent cause. The only explanation is a message her best friend, Heather Reed, sends Dad. "Don't ever let anyone hurt her." From that moment on, that message changes everything. What I never expect is that one day, it will cost me my life.

My six-year-old son, Zac Quest, deliberately fed me almond cake, which I was allergic to, to make me miscarry. Standing in front of the hospital bed, he hid behind my husband, Sterling Quest, with a long face and refused to admit his mistakes, "Grandma said you won't ever divorce Dad once you give birth to my sister. I don't want you as my mom anymore. I prefer Ms. White!" Sterling said indifferently, "We'll have other children. Winona... is indeed more fit to raise Zac than you." Hearing those words, I gave up completely. The day I was discharged from the hospital, I went back home and cleared out all my belongings. All I left behind was a divorce agreement and a letter disowning Zac.

After the plane crash, my body was never recovered. My soul drifted back to the home I hadn't stepped foot in for five years. They didn't know I was dead. They were still waiting for me to come home for Christmas. When my mom got the call from the airline, she froze for a long time, completely at a loss, before breaking down in tears. I followed them as they went to the memorial crash site. That was when I noticed something strange—I could see their levels of regret hovering above their heads. My brother's regret level read: 40%. My father's showed: 60%. Even my sister-in-law had 30% over her head. But my mother's regret level? It flashed a cold, unchanging 0%.

On my way home from picking wild berries in the woods, I see my mate, Ethan Volkov, feeding our pups roast chicken. His childhood sweetheart, Zoe Hathaway, is snuggling next to them. While chatting with Ethan about her experiences studying on the northern grasslands, she entertains the children. My five-year-old daughter is happily swinging her legs as she holds out a piece of roast chicken to Zoe, while My son carefully wipes the grease off Zoe's hands. Ethan never once looks away from Zoe. It is as if he only has eyes for her. Seeing my beloved mate and the pups I've tirelessly raised so attached to another she-wolf leaves me devastated. I draft a Bond Breaking Agreement, give up custody of the children, and leave. Pursue the herbal research career that I gave up for my family Yet later, the always calm and composed Ethan loses his composure. My daughter Katrina and my son James search everywhere for me, openly expressing their love and begging me to come home.

Garrick Langdon and Josephine Hawthorne had been together since their school days, all the way through to their wedding. They had once been the envy of everyone around them, a couple everyone considered a match made in heaven. In the fifth year of their marriage, Josephine had an affair. Garrick gently set a stack of damning photos on the desk in front of her. He did not yell or demand an explanation. He simply said, his voice remarkably calm, "Either he goes, or I take the kids and go." It was the first real storm they had faced since their wedding. In the end, Josephine chose her family. Life seemed to return to normal. Josephine came home on time every day, doted on the children, and treated Garrick with tenderness and care. But an invisible crack had formed between them, and things could never go back to the way they had been. One day, Garrick finished an interview early and decided to surprise the kids by picking them up from daycare himself. He had just reached the daycare gate when he saw his five-year-old twins, Caleb and Ruby, rush forward like two joyful little birds. With delighted laughter, they threw themselves into the arms of a tall, thin man in a gray coat. The man crouched down and welcomed both children into his embrace with a warm, affectionate smile. Garrick stopped dead in his tracks. His chest tightened inexplicably. The man was Silas Morrison, the very man Josephine had cheated on him with. Why was he there?

Mom had one rule, and she never let it go: one good deed a day. When I was little, I saved my allowance for an entire year to buy a doll. Then some girl beside me whispered that she wanted one too, and Mom ripped it out of my arms. "Do one good deed a day. Give her the doll." Later, I barely made it into the best high school in the county. I didn't even get to be happy before Mom told me she'd already signed me up for trade school. "Do one good deed a day. The girl who just missed the cutoff is poor. Give her your spot." Later, at trade school, my roommates stole every cent I had for food and rent. I called Mom, sobbing. "Do one good deed every day. Giving them your money still counts as doing something good." Later, I got a part-time job and ended up sold as a bride to some family way out in the sticks. I texted Mom, begging her to save me. Her reply popped up a second later. [Marriage means sticking it out. Give them a healthy baby boy, and that should cover ten years of good deeds.]

While they slice me apart, I desperately call my brother, Nathan Slade. He finally picks up as my consciousness starts to slip and answers in an annoyed voice, "What now?" "Nathan, help—" I don't get to finish before he cuts me off. "Can't you ever go a day without drama? Gemma's graduation is at the end of the month. Miss it, and I swear I'll kill you!" Then, he hangs up without a second thought. The agonizing pain swallows me whole, and my eyes close for good, tears still trailing down my cheeks. Well, good news, Nathan… You won't have to kill me because I'm already dead.