Family Emotions-Kurzgeschichten & -Kurzromane

After the college entrance exams, my parents finally agree to take me to visit Everleigh Palace in Jatwick. I pack my bags a full month in advance, meticulously drafting a list of every wish I want to make—wishes for my parents, wishes for my siblings, and wishes for Joel Sutton, my childhood friend. The night before our departure, my younger sister, Yvonne Jarrow, suddenly announces that she wants to go to Novenport to see the ocean. My heart sinks. A second later, Dad pulls out his phone and starts changing our tickets. "The weather's been great lately. It's perfect for a seaside vacation," he says excitedly. Mom immediately swaps out her everyday clothes for swimsuits and hats. "The sun down south is brutal. I've got to pack plenty of sunscreen for Yvonne." My older brother, Stefan Jarrow, starts searching for seaside hotels. Without even looking up, he says, "I've been saying there's nothing fun in Jatwick anyway. Compared to Yvonne, Alice doesn't know how to have fun." I turn to Joel, pinning my last remaining hope on him. He once promised he would take me to Everleigh Palace so we could make a wish together at the old fountain. Now, all he does is cancel my flight ticket for me. "Alice, Yvonne means well. She just wants you to have a more enjoyable summer holiday," he says, his voice gentle but firm. He glances at me before adding, "Be sensible. Don't ruin the fun for everyone." Be sensible. I've been hearing those two words for the past 18 years. This time, I don't want to hear it anymore. Without a word, I cancel my flight ticket to Novenport. Instead, I use all my savings to buy a ticket to Jatwick. Days later, I stand before the old fountain at Everleigh Palace and make my wish with all my heart. However, this time, it isn't for anyone else. I make a wish for myself.

I was a capybara. Then I woke up one day as Daphne Bradford, the biological daughter of the richest family in the country. When I crawled back to their sprawling 32,000-square-foot mansion, the entire family stared at me in shock. Scarlett Bradford, the fake heiress, pointed at me and screamed, "A ghost!" I didn't even look up. "Oh. If you say so." She fainted on the spot. My body's biological father slammed his hand on the table and roared, "Look at yourself! Do you look anything like the daughter of the richest family in the country? Have you forgotten how to walk?" I gave his question some serious thought. Crawling did take less effort than walking. Plus, with my center of gravity lower, I felt much safer. So I answered honestly, "I don't know how. Can you teach me?" My body's older brother, Grayson Bradford, rushed over to me. "Daphne, is your brain full of water? You disappear for a year, and the second you come back, you pull this stunt just to get attention?" I remembered swallowing quite a bit of seawater earlier. My ears were still ringing from it. I nodded at him vigorously. "Yeah, there's water in there. A lot. It hasn't dried out yet. Want to listen?"

I had been a spineless pushover. When people bullied me, I never fought back. All I ever did was cry. Then, at 20, a finely dressed couple tracked me down and told me I was their long-lost daughter. I felt overjoyed and followed them back to a house that looked like a castle. I believed my life was finally about to turn around. On my first day there, the fake heiress made it clear she would never let me live in peace. I did not dare make a sound. I had been too much of a coward to do anything except want to die. The first time I slit my wrists, they saved me. The second time, I tried to jump off the roof, and my brother pulled me back. The third time, I drank an entire bottle of pesticide, and it still did not work. Time and again, my family finally discovered her true colors. "So you were the one behind all of this!" Every time I attempted suicide, my brother got even more nervous than I did. "For the love of God, please stop trying to kill yourself."

On the night of my tenth wedding anniversary with my billionaire husband, his female secretary called him. Ignoring the fact that I was completely naked, he pulled away and started to leave. I couldn't stop myself from confronting him. He sighed, yet his tone was inexplicably relaxed. "So you finally figured it out. Elowen is young and insecure. She's afraid I'll fall in love with your body again. "She's adorable. Now that I've tasted something young and vibrant, why would I ever settle for what’s withered and spent?" A chill spread through my body, and I stood there frozen. "Silas, that's not a funny joke." He didn't answer. He merely shot me a look of disgust. "She's underestimating herself. "You're nothing but an ambitionless wife, a parasite content to live off me. "I only married you because my family pressured me. Now that everything is going well, I haven't felt anything for you in a long time. "Good thing she called. Otherwise, I wouldn't have known how to end this." As I watched him leave without the slightest hesitation, my entire body trembled. When Silas's company was in crisis, no one wanted to marry a man who was about to take on millions in debt. I was the one who chose him without hesitation and used my own money to help him start over. Yet this was how he repaid me. My heart went cold. I picked up my phone and made a call. "Dad, I'll put the Sicily project in your hands in one week."

On the day the kidnappers killed my son, I did not cry. I paid top dollar for the best lawyer in the city to argue that the kidnapper was innocent. And once he was free, I signed ten percent of my shares over to him. I also gave him the house my son had loved most. My husband, Alex Thomas, slapped me in front of the press. He called me a cold-blooded monster. People on social media boycotted my company and demanded my family kick me out. I endured every insult and every attack in silence. At the review hearing, I looked at my husband. "I thought you, of all people, would understand me."

A body was pulled from the sea, waterlogged and swollen. The woman was two months pregnant. Her face was unrecognizable, but I recognized the ring I had given her immediately. The dead woman was my daughter, Cecily Moretti. I had once been the most powerful Mafia Donna on the West Coast, with enemies everywhere. To protect Cecily, I staged a shipwreck ten years ago. I jumped into the sea clutching a doll and faked my own death. I left her in the care of the Griffiths family, whose son I had chosen to be her husband. I gave them money, power, and every advantage so my daughter could live a peaceful, happy life. But my investigation uncovered the truth. Five years after I disappeared, Cecily's intended husband, Selwyn Griffiths, fell in love with Iliana Valmont, the daughter of a noble family. "Donna, Selwyn broke his promise to marry Ms. Cecily. He also believed Iliana's lies and had Ms. Cecily tied to a reef as punishment. The abrasions on her wrists and ankles suggest she struggled to free herself as the tide came in. Then... then a wave swept her out to sea." As my lieutenant gave his report, my fingernails dug into my palms. I had lifted the Griffiths family to the top, yet my beloved daughter had been treated worse than a slave! Fighting back my grief, I slowly wrapped my hand around Cecily's scarred fingers. "Rest now, Cecily. I swear I'll avenge you."

The day Alpha Kyle Locke came to deliver the marking token, he brought two, just like always, and let my sister Serafina Voss choose first. One was a custom-made moonstone collar, a specialty piece from Frost. The other was a wolf fang pendant, the kind sold in every shop in town. Neither of us said anything. Everyone just waited for Serafina to reach out first. Never mind that this token had been chosen for my marking ceremony with Kyle, not hers. But this time, I moved first. My fingers landed on the moonstone. I spoke before anyone else could. "Can I be the one to choose, this time?" Kyle frowned. "Ella, Serafina's health is delicate. The moonstone will help settle her wolf. Yours is already steady. The pendant is more than enough for you." I didn't pull my hand back. I looked at the two tokens in front of me, and it finally hit me. Every choice in my life had been made exactly like this. Serafina's blood ran nobler, so she always got to choose first. I was the one who gave ground, every single time, right up until Kyle came along. Everyone had expected Kyle to pick Serafina as his Luna. In the end, he chose me instead. I thought, for once, I was the one who'd been chosen, not the one left with the scraps. It took me a long time to understand that the position of Luna was mine, but the priority behind it always belonged to Serafina. Not this time. I wasn't going to be the one who came second, not anymore.

My mate, Alex, had a childhood friend named Emily who was a healer. When she discovered that I was a highly sensitive person, she volunteered to put me through what she called 'desensitization therapy.' The first time, she told me I needed to learn to control my emotions, so she locked me in a noisy bar's storage room for an entire night. The second time, she said I needed to overcome my tactile sensitivity. She drenched me in ice-cold water and forced me to stand in the freezing wind for three hours. Alex was present every single time. Each time, he told her, "Thank you for all your hard work, Emily. I know how much you're doing for her." Then came the banquet, where she poured an entire vial of wolfsbane-laced potion into my champagne and announced that this would be my final desensitization therapy session. I clutched my swollen throat and collapsed to the floor. I couldn't speak or catch my breath. Alex merely frowned and said coldly, "Elena, this is for your own good. Just get through this one last session." Lying among the shattered glass, I closed my eyes and pressed the beacon badge I had never used before. When Dad finally burst through the doors, tears I'd held back for three years streamed down my face. It was time to end this.

The pack knew my mother, Wynne Carter, a renowned pack healer, as the very definition of fairness. To avoid any accusation of favoritism, she once had me removed from the emergency ward while I was suffering from a severe allergic reaction, all because she couldn’t let her own daughter take medical resources away from other pack members. Even when I invited her to the academy’s open day, she turned me down because my instructor was pregnant. She reprimanded me sternly, “Get those funny ideas out of your head. My position is not a way for you to get special treatment from your instructors.” I had always believed my mother was merely strict. Then, the fire happened. My adopted sister, Lena Sylan Carter, and I, who was five months along, were taken to the pack infirmary. My mother walked straight past me while I clutched my belly in agony. She assembled the infirmary’s best healers around Lena, all to treat a minor burn to the back of her hand. “Lena is just a fragile human. She doesn’t have healing powers. Even a small wound could become infected or leave a scar. “Odette Carter, you’re my flesh and blood. If I were to give you priority, the elders will have something to say about that. “Why are you making this about yourself and competing with Lena for attention? You’re about to become a mother yourself. It’s time you grew up!” I grabbed desperately at her pant leg, only for her to shake me off in annoyance and walk away. Little did she know, my wolf had been severely injured. My healing ability was gone. Blood ran down my legs, and the pain in my abdomen shifted into hollow numbness. The truth that my mother wasn’t impartial sank in. I simply wasn’t the one she favored. My vision blurred. I knew that I didn’t have much time left.

My younger sister, Selena Shaw, was born with a weak wolf. The pack healer warns our family that she must not be startled at any cost. Consequently, my own life is forced into a state of stifling silence. To avoid triggering her wolf, I never dare to vent my emotions. Even if I'm injured, I can't cry out in pain. My parents always stroke my head with a look of guilt on their faces. "You're so sensible, Camellia. We need to protect Lena's wolf together. You're very healthy, so you should be more accommodating to her, alright?" One day, while we are out camping with the rest of the pack, I accidentally knock over a stack of firewood, and the noise startles Selena. Her wolf immediately spirals out of control, and she breaks down in hysterical sobs. Furious, Dad shoves me hard and lashes out at me. "Can't you have been more careful? Are you trying to get your own sister killed on purpose?" I stagger back and crash heavily into the rack behind me, where various hunting tools are hung up. A silver hunting knife stabs me right in the back of my chest, behind my heart. However, the rest of my family is busy tending to Selena, who is crying and lashing out hysterically. Nobody turns to look at me at all. I sink to the floor and feel my consciousness dying out. I wonder if my giving up my chance at survival for Selena is accommodating enough for them.

To win the money for my heart surgery, my mother—a PhD in artificial intelligence—entered a televised quiz show. After answering nine questions correctly, she faced the easiest one: “What does AI stand for?” “Alien Internet,” she answered. Everyone froze. It was the final question, and the prize money was the only thing that could save my life. The host gave her another chance. My family begged her to reconsider. Doctors warned that my heart could stop at any moment. But my mother refused to change her answer. She thought this was the perfect time to teach our family a lesson. She never knew my heart was about to give out. I couldn't wait for her anymore.

The pack threw a massive party for my sister, Aria. She got into the Royal Wolf Academy. My father, the Alpha, pinned the pack crest to her gown. It was the ultimate symbol of Stonecrest’s future. His voice boomed over the crowd, "Aria is a once-in-a-generation prodigy! She showed Alpha dominance at just sixteen. She is our fiercest weapon." And me? His other daughter. I stood in the corner. Completely invisible. No one even offered me a drink. At dinner, my mother—our flawless Luna—bragged about every single achievement, "Aria shifted at ten. She won the Northern Trials at thirteen without a single scratch. She only studied for six months to get into the Royal Academy!" An old elder finally glanced my way and asked, "And Cassian? I heard she got accepted somewhere too?" My mother’s smile froze. My father just looked away in silence. Aria broke the silence, "Yes. Cassian's college is pretty far from the pack..." I got a full ride to Columbia University. The acceptance letter has been on my nightstand for fifty days. But nobody asked about it. My mother quickly recovered, forced a smile, and told the elder, "Cassian is just so independent. She always handles things on her own." Independent. Right. Was I 'independent' at ten? Aria and I both had our first shift. She got a rare elixir from our parents to stabilize her power. I was left to fight my rampaging wolf alone, again and again. Was I 'independent' at thirteen during the Northern Trials? A feral beast attacked. I took every hit to protect Aria. My parents rushed to check on her, terrified. I was left to stitch my own wounds in silence. At eighteen, to make sure Aria got into the Royal Academy, I was her sparring partner by day and her tutor by night. I even did the servants' chores when they were away. Does cleaning up every mess my perfect sister makes mean I am 'independent'? The party ended. The guests left. My mother ordered me to clean up the hall. The gifts were piled high. Every single one wa

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.

It was my parents' twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. The whole family kept it from me and took my adopted sister Evelyn to the most expensive Italian restaurant in New York. My older brother Luca raised his glass. "Evelyn wants to study business management. I'll introduce her to the right people." My younger brother Noah handed her a gift. "This bracelet suits you, sis." My mother put the sapphire earrings my grandmother had left me in her ears, smiling. "Evelyn, with us here, you'll never have to be afraid of anything again." My father nodded. "You need these more than Leah does. She's had it good her whole life. It's only right that she gives way to you." I stood in the cold wind outside the restaurant, looking down at the family photo on my phone. In it, all five of them were beaming. No one noticed that one person was missing. Me. Suddenly I understood. They hadn't forgotten me. They had simply never seen me as someone who needed to be chosen. In that case, I didn't want them either. I applied to the school farthest from home. From now on, they were them. And I was me. Later, when I'd made a name, made money, and found my footing on my own, they came looking for me with their bills.

On my twenty-ninth birthday, I was supposed to be formally announced as the next head of the Ashford family. But before the charity gala began, my mother fed my succession speech into the shredder and replaced it with a written pledge to my sister. "Lydia hasn't had an easy time since the wedding. Announce in public that you're giving her the Harbor Hotel. Think of it as backing her up." It was the first property my grandmother had left me, and the only project I had been allowed to run on my own in eight years. I asked my mother, "And if I'm not willing?" My father looked at me coldly. "Don't forget, you'll inherit all of Ashford one day. She only has us." They had always used the inheritance to keep me in line, forcing me to hand over what was mine to my sister Lydia. This time, I didn't argue. I took out the resignation letter I had signed long before and set it in front of my father. "Then let Lydia inherit all of Ashford. "From today on, I want nothing."

After my husband missed our son's performance for the third time, I set a contract on the dining table. The contract didn't fight for custody, and it didn't divide property. I had simply put a price on every one of his departures. Canceling a family dinner: fifty thousand dollars. Missing our son's performance: one hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Rushing off to protect another woman when we needed him most: two hundred thousand and up. He read the terms and signed his name in silence. He thought it was a wife's revenge in the seventh year of marriage. He naively believed that as long as he was willing to pay, I hadn't truly given up on him. He was wrong. The numbers flowing into that account weren't a childish demand. They were the way out I was buying for myself and my son. His first love, the woman he saw as his savior's daughter, was destroying our family, inch by inch. Later, when the truth came out, he wanted to spend the rest of his life making it up to me and the child. But we no longer needed 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?

I was separated from my parents when I was young and grew up in foster care. I don't pick up on hints. I say what I mean. At boarding school, an older girl shoved contraband tobacco into my drawer. "Keep it in here for now. They won't expel an underclassman." I turned around, walked to the headmaster's office, and reported her. Later, when I was working at a fast-food place, my shift lead handed me spoiled cheese. "Slip it into a burger before anyone notices. It won't kill them." I shoved the cheese straight into his mouth. "If it won't kill anyone, why aren't you eating it?" Then, when I was twenty, my birth parents brought me back to the Warren estate and later threw me a belated homecoming dinner. At the dinner, Diana, their adopted daughter, ignored my place card and took the seat at the center of the long table. She held her glass of champagne and looked at me innocently. "Sylvia, I'm so used to sitting between Mom and Dad. You don't mind, do you?" Everyone waited for me to smile politely and sit somewhere else. I asked her seriously, "Why would you think I'd mind? Because that's my seat?" She bit her lip, and her eyes started to turn red. I kept going. "So it is my seat. "Then shouldn't you be getting up?"

By the time I was diagnosed with end-stage heart failure, UNOS had finally matched me with a donor heart. My foster sister Isabella had the same condition, but no donor heart had been found for her. My family had heard somewhere that if I signed a voluntary waiver giving up the transplant, the heart would go straight to her. For three straight months, my parents refused to pay a cent toward my care to pressure me into signing. They told anyone who would listen that their own daughter was selfish enough to take away her sister's only chance to live. My older brother Howard came to my room and tossed the waiver onto my bed. "Isabella just got into a top university. She has her whole future ahead of her. "You already have severe drug allergies. Even with that heart, rejection could kill you at any time." Before he could finish, Isabella ran in sobbing, threw herself into his arms, and demanded to know if I had to step over her dead body just to stay alive. Howard patted her back gently. He had once nearly died carrying me out of a fire. Afterward, he cried and swore he would never let me die before he did. Now all he ever did was look at me with those cold blue eyes. My hand shook when I picked up the pen. "All right, Howard. "I'll sign it."

After five years of keeping the demon sealed away, I finally saw my sister again—inside a coffin, her body mangled beyond recognition. The men carrying the coffin were whispering to each other. "She died like this, and nobody even investigated? Isn't her brother-in-law some big shot?" "Shh! She's only his sister-in-law. How could she matter more than his new lover? Mr. Smith even helped cover the whole thing up!" "His ex-wife has been dead for five years. Ms. Sophia runs the house now!" "They say the wedding is tomorrow, and it's going to be huge!" For five years, I'd stayed in a graveyard, keeping a demon sealed away for my husband, Victor Smith. Meanwhile, he'd found another woman to replace me. Worse, he'd stood by while she erased every trace of my existence and tortured my only sister for years. When my sister finally tried to escape and come looking for me, Sophia ran her over and killed her. I stroked what remained of my sister's face and smiled. I'd given up everything to protect Victor. This was how he repaid me. Fine. Then I'll stop protecting him. It's time to let the demon have him.