เรื่องสั้นแนว Familial Bond และนิยาย Hypocrisy Face Slapping

After the College Entrance Assessment ends, Chayce Clarkson, the younger brother I have raised for seven years, looks me in the eye and says calmly, "I turned in blank exam papers." I instantly freeze, unable to utter even a single word. A look of vengeful satisfaction flashes across his face as he delivers his next blow. "Jill and I never broke up, either. And it's for her that I didn't write a single word in the exams. She's not book-smart, so she won't be able to get into a decent college. I've already promised her that I'll spend the next four years just playing around with her." My heart shatters into a thousand pieces, but he clearly doesn't believe that he's done anything wrong. He meets my gaze without guilt, and his expression remains cold. "Either way, the exam is over now. If you accept my relationship with Jill, I'll still consider you my sister. If not, we'll sever ties right here, right now." His eyes drift to my trembling hands. After a slight pause, he adds, "But if you still want me as your brother, that's fine too. Just give Jill every dollar you've earned over the past seven years. Consider it your 'welcome-to-the-family' gift to her."

I was 9 years old when my wealthy biological family finally found me. They said there was nothing wrong with me, except that I was obsessed with money. When my biological mother, Janine Stevens, tried to hug me, I asked, "How much do I get for a hug?" When my biological father, Paul Faris, invited me to a family dinner, I asked, "Does that count as overtime?" When my older brother, Andrew Faris, asked me to fetch him a glass of water, I held out my hand. "Forty cents. Pay up front." My entire family was furious. But my adoptive sister, Lisa Faris, always came to my defense with tears in her eyes. "Tara had such a difficult childhood. She's just insecure. Please don't hold it against her." Naturally, everyone felt even sorrier for Lisa, and their contempt for me only deepened. Eventually, my family sent me to a televised children's behavior correction program that aired live across the country. The host asked, "Do you know why your parents sent you here?" I thought for a moment before answering with a straight face, "Because they pay appearance fees here." The livestream erupted. [She's only 9, and she's already this obsessed with money?] [The Faris family's biological daughter is such an embarrassment.] [Lisa is the one who looks like a real little princess from a wealthy family.] Andrew immediately scowled. "All she cares about is money. She's bringing shame on the Faris family." Lisa, however, gently took my hand. "It's not her fault. She just doesn't understand yet that money can't buy love." The entire internet branded me a greedy little debt collector. That was until the production team announced a segment that required all the children to surrender their personal belongings. The other children burst into tears as they handed over their game consoles, candy jars, and comic books. But when my turn came, I desperately clutched the old metal box I had hidden beneath my bed. When the production team finally pried it open, everyone fell silent. The entire internet was stunned.

At the reunion dinner, my adopted brother, Isaac Johnson, whispers in my ear, "The Johnson family only needs one son. You're just a country bumpkin. We don't need you here." I think he's right. So, I run straight into traffic at the intersection. My family is terrified. They rush over and manage to pull me back from the road. My sister, Rebecca Johnson, turns pale with anger and warns me not to upset Isaac again. I obediently nod. Then, late that night, I turn on the gas and leave a suicide note. "It's my fault for upsetting Isaac. I'll take the whole family to heaven with me. None of us will ever have to suffer again." My family stares at me as if I've gone mad. Later, at a party, Isaac and his friends push me into the pool. But I don't struggle. I simply let myself sink slowly to the bottom. Isaac panics and has no choice but to jump in and pull me out again. "Idiot! What if you really drowned? Mom and Dad would hate me! Couldn't you at least struggle?" What he doesn't know is that I've fought back before. But every time, it only ended with me dying a horrible death. This is my tenth time being reborn. This time, I just want to die.

Three days after my mom died, the hospital called. "Mr. Carter, your mother has an outstanding balance of $1,873.60. Please come in and pay it as soon as possible." What? I stared at my mom's body. They had to have the wrong person. I'd paid every bill before she was discharged. She was supposed to be cremated and buried today. How could she still owe money? The person on the phone clicked their tongue. "Her family is responsible for the bill! She received treatment, so someone has to pay for it. It's $1,873.60." "Are you sure that's for Winona Carter?" "Yes. Come quickly."

For Children's Day, I help source and purchase gifts for my son's class. I not only keep the budget to a minimum, but I also manage to get expensive toys that are way over budget for them. During checkout, because my son, Harry Chandler, has grabbed a limited edition toy robot, the PTA representative, Darren Larson, shouts at me, "Jordan Chandler, are you trying to tell me that you didn't embezzle the class funds for that 500-dollar toy robot?" The class teacher, Kevin Brown, and the manager of the toy store, Florence Young, immediately pause in their footsteps. I feel dozens of pairs of eyes staring at me in the mall. Darren complains animatedly, "You were trying to pay for that 500-dollar toy with the class funds, basically using everyone's money to spoil your son, weren't you? "Both Mr. Brown and the manager are right here, but you still dare to pocket our money? I can't imagine how much of the class funds you must've used to line your own pockets behind our backs! I daresay, for someone with no morals like you, the children you raise will be thieves in the future too!" Darren glares maliciously at me, looking me up and down. Even Kevin is giving me a look of suspicion and disdain. Instead of arguing with him, I turn to the cashier and ask in a calm tone, "My family owns this mall. Do I need to pay for a toy I just grabbed off the shelf?"

I worked as a caregiver at a psychiatric hospital. One day, during a quiet shift, I came across a post from my husband's widowed sister-in-law. [Just launched my first AI-generated short drama! Hope you'll check it out and support me!] I tapped on the video attached to the post. The villain's face was identical to mine. I immediately messaged her and demanded that she take the video down. Instead, she posted our chat in the family group. Then she added: "If it really bothers you, I'll delete it. It's just a shame my first attempt at starting a business has already failed..." My husband replied almost instantly: "Don't delete it!" Then he tagged me. "So, what if you played a vicious villain? That's called making sacrifices for art." "This is the first business your sister-in-law has ever started. Stop being so dramatic." My mother-in-law chimed in as well: "Your sister-in-law is trying to build something of her own. What's wrong with supporting her?" "What do you mean she used your face without permission? We're family. Why make such a fuss over something so trivial?" "She used all of our faces, and none of us complained. What, do you think your face is worth more than everyone else's?" What they didn't know was that I was an undercover investigative journalist. So yes, my face really was worth more than theirs.

On the train to college registration, my heart gave a sharp, agonizing flutter. I leaned over the bunk and tapped the frame below me. "Mom, Dad, my heart hurts. Can you ask Julian to grab my medicine?" Thunder flashed outside, illuminating the compartment. The five other bunks were empty. I had been forgotten again. Ever since my younger sister, Lily Hayes, fell ill last year, I became an afterthought. “She needs all our attention,” they told me. “Stop competing for love.” So I ate alone, studied alone, and learned to keep my quiet during my worst heart episodes. Then came the next excuse, my grades were too good. Seeing my success would stress Lily to the point of breakdown. So they shipped me off to boarding school. My presence at home shrank until my house slippers vanished from the entryway, unnoticed. Julian Hayes never noticed when I scrambled for medication during an attack. And now, they didn't notice leaving me behind on a train. My eyes stung. Chest tightening, I grabbed my phone to call for help, but an app notification froze me. A photo posted by Lily minutes ago. Five beaming faces under the streetlights outside the campus gates. Beside her, Seth Vance stood with his arm around her neck, flashing a peace sign. Before we boarded, I had pulled on Seth’s sleeve, asking for a quick photo together. He had pushed me aside gently while stowing Lily’s luggage. "Later. We have four years to take pictures. Go get some sleep. I’ll wake you before we stop." Seth forgot. And there would be no "later." I opened the app and changed my ticket destination to a distant city a thousand miles north. The world was wide. I would walk into this future alone.

On the day I moved into my freshman dorm, my mother posted a screenshot of a six-hundred-dollar wire transfer in the family group chat. [Giselle, you can't go without at school. Mom will always have your back.] The relatives all praised her as a generous, open-minded mother. Behind the scenes, though, she told me to click decline on the money, and sent me a chart instead: the Family Attendance Chart. [Reply to messages within ten seconds. Answer video calls within three. Every violation costs you ten dollars.] After she'd starved me sick a few times, I never dared miss one of her check-ins again. Then came today's anatomy class. My hands were submerged in formaldehyde, and I missed six of them. By the time I'd scrubbed up, she'd already docked my allowance for the month into the negative. Her voice message was gentle, laced with hurt. "Giselle, you've disappointed me so much. Your allowance is zeroed out. Think hard about what you've done." I fainted on the way back to my dorm, my blood sugar crashing from hunger. When I came to in the campus infirmary, my brother had sent me a message. [Mom's so generous. She gave me six hundred as a dating fund so I could really enjoy the whole college romance experience. Bet you got some too, huh?] Staring at my bruised, IV-punctured hand, I suddenly felt like a joke. Calmly, I went to the nurses' station, signed off on refusing the rest of my treatment, and blocked every one of their contacts. This kind of love, the kind you had to clock in for just to be handed a scrap of it? I didn't want it anymore.

During the SAT exam, My sister and I both had an emergency at the same time. Overwhelmed by stress, I suffered a heart attack and was on the brink of death. Yet my mom, who was working as an invigilator that day, rushed to tend to my sister—who only had a stomach ache—without a second thought. I begged her to save me. But she kicked me away fiercely. “Can’t you pick the right time to put on a show for attention? If you ruin your sister’s grades, I’ll beat you to death, you beast!” Later, I failed to respond to resuscitation and died in the hospital. Mom collapsed overnight.

On my first day back with my wealthy family, Caelum, the young man who had taken my place, stood off to the side with his shoulders hunched, looking timid. He looked nothing like the privileged young heir he was supposed to be. He hid whenever he saw anyone. When he could not hide, his eyes would turn red, almost as though he was about to cry, especially whenever he ran into my mom, Linda. Linda threw herself into my arms and sobbed. "Your brother has never been close to me, not since he was little. No matter how hard I tried, he never let me love him. Thank goodness you're back." My three sisters weren't fond of him either. "He's been a troublemaker since childhood, and now, we find out he's not even related to us by blood. No wonder we could never bring ourselves to treat him as family." Caelum's face went pale, and I instinctively held his hand. The next moment, we both heard a vicious woman's voice. [Here comes another brat. Watch how I deal with eyesores like you!]

On the day of the college entrance exam, just as I was writing my name on the answer sheet, my progressive amnesia struck again. When the scores came out, my younger sister had earned 680 points. I had earned eight. Mom was so furious she slapped me hard across the face. "Even if you'd guessed with your eyes closed, you would've scored higher than eight! "I think you did this on purpose!" I covered my swollen cheek and hid in my room. The moment I shut the door, the eraser inside my head moved. A second later, I turned around and walked back out. Mom was sitting on the couch, trembling with anger. I asked softly, "Mom, why are you so upset? Did someone make you mad?" I reached out to wipe away her tears, but she flinched away like I was some kind of monster. That night, my older brother came home with a dark look on his face. He stood outside my door and shouted, "You score an eight and still have the nerve to talk back to Mom and play dumb? Get out!" He shoved my clothes into a suitcase and pushed me out the door along with it. The moment I was pushed out, the eraser in my head moved again. A second later, I looked up at my brother and gave him a sweet smile. "Caleb, why did you pack so much stuff? Are we all going on a family trip?" But he didn't say a word. He just slammed the door shut. That night, the whole family took my sister out for a fancy dinner. Everyone except me. I went back to my room and cried all night. But when I woke up the next morning, I couldn't remember why my pillow was wet. Then, on the day my sister left for college, Mom said I was an embarrassment and dumped me beside a highway interchange. I stood on the side of the road as traffic rushed past, and my mind went completely blank. I wanted to go home, but I couldn't remember my address. I couldn't even remember who I was. By the time my family came home, happy after seeing my sister off, they finally noticed. I was gone.

After the SATs, my niece’s essay went viral online. It was titled: The Pains of Living in Someone Else’s Home. During her freshman year, my niece, Kristen, had moved in with us. Afraid that she might not settle in well, I made sure she got everything my own daughter, Gabrielle, had. I bought them all the same things. However, ten days after the SATs, Kristen’s essay went viral, and a target was painted on my back. [Why did you abuse me when my parents send you money for my living expenses every month? Why did you make me feel like vermin living in your house?] In the end, because Kristen accidentally revealed our location, I was nearly killed in a car crash perpetrated by a self-righteous netizen. Gabrielle was doxxed and bullied online. In the end, she broke down and committed suicide. Before I died, I went back in time. When I opened my eyes, I found myself back on the day of the SATs. Kristen and Gabrielle were holding hands as they walked out of the school.

Fire suddenly breaks out at the hotel where we're hosting our wedding. My fiance, Alan Godwin, doesn't hesitate to pick up Brenda Larkin, my cousin who has already collapsed out of fright, and rush out to safety. Meanwhile, my parents and older brother hurriedly cart away the wedding gift Brenda has made. They don't want her to get sad if the gift is damaged in any way. As for me, I've twisted my ankle, making it inconvenient for me to escape from the hotel. Everyone has already forgotten all about me, so I end up getting severe burns all over my body. When they look at the bandages wrapped around my body, they shoot me disgusted looks. "Why are you such a jinx? How is it possible for a fire to break out at your own wedding? Thanks to you, Brenda has fainted out of shock!" "Well, it's not like you're suited for any public appearances when you look like this, anyway. Brenda's figure is similar to yours. Why don't you let her replace you in the wedding?" I just nod calmly and agree to the suggestion. After that, I sort out the details of getting dispatched overseas for my job with my boss. One month later, I board my flight on the day Brenda is set to wed Alan. I no longer want Alan, who's blind to the truth, and my family, who are nothing but biased toward Brenda. But why is it that they are filled with regret after I leave them?

The light elf royal family had 12 sons before finally welcoming a daughter: me. On the day I was born, the World Tree bloomed again after standing withered for 100 years. Lucia, the High Priestess, announced that I was the only elf of my generation who could hear the Goddess's voice. So my father, the king, gave me the right to choose the heir to the throne. At my coming-of-age ceremony, I gave the heir's mark to Salvador, the brother who loved me most. Then he fell in love with Evelyn, a dark elf. Light elves and dark elves had been enemies for generations, and our kingdom forbade marriage between the two peoples. I was the one who talked my father and the council into allowing the match. But the day after the wedding, Evelyn shackled me with enchanted ashwood chains. “Tomorrow I'm handing you over to Morvane, the dark elf lord. Once he has a light elf princess, he can cross the border whenever he likes. “In return, he'll give me three crystal mines. With those, I can help Salvador rule over the light elves.” I couldn't help but scoff at the smug look on her face. She thought Salvador had earned his vast territories and his position as the heir to the throne through his own strength. What she didn't know was that he had them because I'd chosen him. I'd even fought for her right to live in light elf lands. I clenched my fists, and a crack split the chains. “As the princess of the light elves, I'm taking back everything I've given you both.” She wanted to throw me out? Fine. I'd make sure she lost her place as the crown prince's wife.

After my dad has retired, I give him 5,000 dollars for his living expenses every month. Coupled with his monthly pension of 2,000 dollars, I thought Dad would be living a great life back in our hometown. Little do I know that the hospital calls me the next day, telling me that Dad has fainted from low blood sugar due to starvation, which leads to him getting sent to the ER. I'm stunned, to say the least. How can Dad starve to the point of getting hospitalized when he's living off 7,000 dollars per month? So, I rush back to my hometown overnight. In the ward, Dad is all skin and bones. He's lost so much weight that his cheekbones can be seen protruding. The moment he sees me entering the ward, he tries to get out of bed. "I want to get discharged! I'm not staying in the hospital! I don't have any money to get hospitalized!" I quickly stop Dad. "Dad, you get 7,000 dollars per month! Why don't you have any money at all?" He glares at me hatefully. "I don't have 7,000 dollars per month! Every month, you give me 200 dollars! You even stole my pension from me! As if I have any money to get hospitalized right now! "If not for the fact that I got up early just to rummage for junk over the past few years, I'd have died of starvation a long time ago!" Everyone in the ward turns to look at me. Meanwhile, my mind goes blank. The thing is, I do give Dad 5,000 dollars every month. I really want to explain the truth to Dad, but he's already crying about how I've kept his money for myself. He also claims that I don't care about him when he gets sick, and that I'm a total ingrate. Someone has recorded the whole outburst. Naturally, the tagline "Ungrateful Son Keeps Father's Money All to Himself" goes viral the next day. My name, my workplace, and my address are quickly dug up by the angry Internet users. Someone even goes so far to splash red paint onto my front door. Because of that, I get fired from my workplace. My landlord doesn't hesitate to kick me out as well. Feeling very dazed, I walk on the street, only to get hit by an incoming truck. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day I transfer the 5,000 dollars to Dad.

My mom and I work our butts off in order to clear Gregory Hudson, my boyfriend's crippling debt. Because of that, Mom even contracts lung cancer. But when I rush to the hospital to pay off the hospital bills, I find out that she's already taken her life by hanging herself. All she leaves is a suicide note. "I can't hang on anymore, Hailey. You should use the money to pay off the debt. Gregory is a good man. I know he loves you; it's just that he's stepped down the wrong path. "Once the debt is cleared, both of you should stay together and live a good life." After collecting Mom's ashes in an urn, I entrust the 300 thousand dollars—the money that Mom has earned with her blood, sweat, and tears—to Gregory. When I return to the company, I accidentally overhear the conversation between Gregory and a few of his debtors. "Mr. Hudson, Ms. Jackman has already passed all of your trials so far. What other arrangements do you have for her?" Gregory's childhood friend, Sophia Wagner, suddenly speaks up. "Even though Hailey can endure all the suffering with you, we still need to test if she can still handle living a good life with you." Gregory purses his lips. "Next, I'd like to know if Hailey's love for me is pure and sincere. If she doesn't pine for my wealth and doesn't become materialistic after finding out about my identity, I will marry her." As I look down at Mom's ashes, I can't help sobbing like a lost child. Both my mom and I are wrong about Gregory. I don't want to marry him anymore.

After the fire, my younger brother, Ethan Harper, and I have become comatose. Our own parents choose to deliver us to the rebirth trial. If we pass the trial, we'll regain consciousness and be granted a brand new life. The sensory caps are attached to our heads and soon connected to our brainwaves. Ethan chokes out, "Since Mom and Dad loves you so much, you'll definitely receive their votes, Emma." I turn to look at the judge instead. "After I'm reborn, can I request a new pair of parents? It's fine if the answer is no. My parents will still die, anyway."

The seventh time my parents asked my brother, Ethan Parker, to blow out the candles on my birthday cake for me, I finally broke down. Ever since Ethan came back after being missing for three years, I had become the most insignificant person in the family. In a fit of anger, I ran down to the river outside the restaurant. I wanted to use my own life to make my parents understand how much they had hurt me. Ethan was dressed in an expensive suit. His eyes turned teary with guilt. “I’m sorry, Xeno. I know I never should’ve come back and taken Mom and Dad away from you.” The next second, before anyone could react, he climbed over the railing and jumped into the river. My parents searched for him day and night for three days, but they could not find his body. They looked worn out after that. Our family’s financial situation also grew worse by the day. From that day on, they devoted all their love and attention to me. I knew I had benefited from a terrible tragedy, and the guilt stayed with me. When I started college, I worked as hard as I could to pay for my own tuition and help support my parents. I thought our family would live a quiet, ordinary life from then on. Finally, the day came when I graduated from college. I went home early because I wanted to surprise my parents. Instead, I saw them outside an upscale restaurant near our house. They were dressed in expensive clothes, and Ethan was with them. Dad gave Ethan an affectionate pat on the shoulder and said, “This time, stay a few extra days when you travel around Avelon. “Xeno will be home soon, so we won’t be able to go out with you. If you need money, just ask us.” For a moment, the whole world seemed to spin around me. That night, I opened my email and looked through the job offers I had received. I chose the one that would take me the farthest from home.

The day I was discharged from the hospital after giving birth, my mother-in-law, Patricia Whitmore, kept pointing at the baby in my arms and humiliating me the whole way home. "Genevieve, just look at that pathetic thing in your arms. I doubt he'll live very long." I shot back angrily, "Patricia, how could you say that? The doctor said the baby is perfectly healthy!" Patricia curled her lip into a sneer. "You're so ignorant. Here you are, yelling at me when I'm only telling you the truth out of the kindness of my heart." I didn't want to waste my energy arguing with her, so I turned away with the baby in my arms and stared out the window. It wasn't until we got home that my seven-year-old daughter told me something. She told me that she'd seen Patricia secretly switch my perfectly healthy son with the child of my husband's childhood sweetheart, Evelyn Reed. The same child who was suffering from a congenital heart defect. That was when I finally understood why Patricia had been humiliating us. She was acting that way because she thought she had already gotten what she wanted. Unfortunately, she never expected that Nina had already switched her little brother back while they weren't paying attention.

At the ceremony where my mother, Helena Marlow, received the Best Homeroom Teacher award, the parents wept with gratitude. They praised her for nurturing the students successfully without ever resorting to harsh discipline, and for helping them all to excellent results. But no one knew that the path to their children’s success had been paved by Mom, using me as a warning to others. When someone in the class stole money, cheated on an exam, or got into a romantic relationship, I was the one punished. During the ceremony, the principal, Ms. Wanda Ambrose, stepped onto the stage to present her award. She asked, “Ms. Marlow, you have so many outstanding students in your class. Which student are you most proud of?” Mom smiled with quiet pride. “They are all like my own children. I love every one of them.” Then she let out a small sigh. “Except for my daughter. She alone fails to live up to expectations and disappoints me every time.” Laughter and applause rose from the audience below the stage. They nodded in understanding and praised her for being so modest. I drifted to her side and looked at the satisfied curve of her lips before speaking softly. “Don’t worry, Mom. From now on, I won’t disappoint you anymore.”