قصص وروايات قصيرة عن Familial Bond وتضم Independence

My mother was the president of a listed corporation, she was both rich and powerful. More importantly, she loved me more than anything in the world. Meanwhile, my father was a man who cheated on her. When he found out his mistress was pregnant with a girl, he beat her until she miscarried and ended up in prison. So when the judge publicly asked me to choose between my mother and my father, everyone assumed the custody battle was just a formality. That was until I walked past my mother's trembling, outstretched hand and firmly chose my father instead. Everyone was shocked into speechlessness. In my previous life, I had chosen my mother, the one who spoiled me rotten. She was the type to buy the whole bakery just because I casually mentioned I wanted their cake. When I complained it was too sunny, she immediately arranged for four helicopters to put up a sunshade cloth and shade me. She even deposited a hundred thousand dollars on my school meal card because she was worried I wasn't eating well. Even though she spoiled me like a true princess and paved the way for me through life, I don't want anything to do with her in this life.

Moving day. My parents passed out keys like candy—one for my brother, one for his wife, one for my younger brother's girlfriend, even one for Maria the housekeeper. Everyone except me. No explanation ever came. Not even as I dragged my suitcase out the front door, my family's laughter fading behind me. If a house had no place for me, it wasn't worth staying in. Three days later, at the airport, about to board my flight, I spotted them. Panic. All over their faces.

My little brother got himself a girlfriend. The moment the news reached them, the whole family lit up. My sister, Serena, clapped so hard her palms cracked. "Who is she? Which lucky girl caught our handsome Tyler's eye?" Mom's face glowed like the credit was hers. "Look who raised him. It was only a matter of time before some girl noticed." Dad couldn't stop grinning. "That's my boy. Good for you, son!" The second they caught Tyler looking embarrassed, they pressed their advantage. "So it's like that, is it? Thanksgiving's almost here. Bring her home. We want to meet her." Then it was my turn, and all they managed were a couple of flat, dutiful lines. "Adrian, you're not as good-looking as your brother, and you've never been quick with words. You're lucky anybody wants you." "So don't be picky. Just lock the wedding in and be done with it." Serena tossed in a joke without even looking up. "Right. Five years, and she still hasn't dumped you — she's even talking marriage. She must be a decent person." They never asked whether my girlfriend was good to me. They never asked whether her parents were decent people. They never once asked to meet her. They just approved the marriage. Not because she was good enough. Because in their eyes, I was worth nothing at all. I let out a slow breath and drank down my tea. It had gone cold a long time ago. If they didn't love me, then I'd go pick a family that did. From now on, we go our separate ways.

When my parents came to take me home, I accidentally switched souls with Ava, a girl from the mountains. The moment my mother saw the certificate proving that Ava had ranked first in the entire county, her eyes filled with tears. "Looks like sending you to the mountains to suffer for half a year was the right decision. "Back then, getting you to study was like pulling teeth. Now you finally understand that everything we did was for your own good." I burst into tears and rushed forward, throwing my arms around my mother's legs. "Mom, I'm the real Sophie!" She kicked me hard, sending me sprawling into the mud. "Where did this wild child come from? You're just as disobedient as the old Sophie!" My parents took away the "me" carrying Ava's soul, leaving the real me behind in the mountains. For the next five years, I endured endless hard labor, slept in a pigsty, and suffered relentless abuse before I finally found a chance to escape. But when I returned home, my mother looked at me with disgust and drove me away. "My daughter just made it through the national competition. How could she possibly be someone like you? If you dare spout that nonsense again, I'll have you locked up in a mental hospital!" I cried until my entire body shook, but I refused to give up. That night, I climbed over the wall and slipped back into the house. That's when I heard my father ask my mother, "We didn't know about the soul swap back then. But now that she's found her way back... are we really not going to acknowledge her?" My mother let out a cold laugh. "What would be the point of taking her back? Should we let her ruin the Sophie we have now? She's hopeless. Even being thrown into the mountains couldn't change her. Someone like her deserves to die." A sharp pain ripped through my stomach. I coughed up a mouthful of blood. "Mom... This body has stomach cancer. Just as you wished... I'm going to die."

I'm infamous for being the stupidest student in the entire school. Even though I've been doing additional revisions till late night every day, I keep getting the lowest rank consistently in exams. On the other hand, my younger sister, Mia Lawson, doesn't study at all. Yet, she always comes up as the top of her grade every time. Our parents soon call her as the Math Prodigy. Because of that, I'm forced to live in the attic, which leaks all the time during rainy days. My table lamp gets smashed into pieces as well since I shouldn't be wasting power if I can't cram any knowledge into my brain. My parents also force me to drop out of school and start working at a young age. They claim that losers should stick to their paths and do what they do best. But at the same time, they don't hesitate to drop a grand sum of money just to enroll Mia into a class based on the Arithmetiad. There's a time when I contract a high fever that makes me all woozy and my consciousness all blurry. Because of my illness, I randomly draw an incorrect construction line on a draft paper. The next day, the line actually appears on Mia's exam paper, pixel by pixel. That's when realization dawns on me immediately. Before the day the National Arithmetiad is set to be streamed live in front of the entire nation, I opt to not solve any difficult questions. Instead, I lock my room door and keep telling myself in front of the mirror that the greatest mathematical equation in this world is 1+1=3.

After being rushed to the hospital and brought back from another relapse, I vaguely heard my family arguing. "This is already the second time this month. When will it end?! Why isn't he dead yet?!" "Mom, don't say that! I've decided, I'll start working right after graduation to earn money!" My dad scolded my older brother, "But you have such good grades. You've already secured a spot for postgraduate studies. You should keep studying, let us take care of the money!" I lay on the bed, crying silently. After three years of being tormented by illness, I couldn't keep going anymore. This time, I chose to let go.

By the fifth year since the return of the real heir, Danny, to the family, I had gotten used to the plain oatmeal on the table. The second I asked for a bigger portion or more protein, Danny would express his envy toward me, his eyes downcast. “Rhys sure enjoys such a hearty meal, unlike me. Growing up in an orphanage, I was hungry all the time. I wince at the sight of meat. I don’t deserve to eat.” My parents shed tears of heartache while accusing me of rubbing it in Danny’s face. Later, whenever I dressed up to go out, Danny would let out a wry smile. “Rhys is so put together. That’s so not me. I grew up in the countryside, feeding livestock. Even all the designer clothes in the world can’t hide the fact that I was a farm hand.” My fiancée, Kyra, would always be there to hold my hand. She said, “It’s not your fault, Rhys. Don’t put this on yourself.” On the day of our engagement, Danny stared at the ring on my finger, his face brooding. “You have occupied my place for twenty years. Your fiancée and the life of luxury were never meant to be yours. Don’t you ever wake up in the middle of the night, feeling the weight on your conscience?” All eyes were on me, their silent judgment cutting into me. With years of pent-up emotions breaking free, I pulled a punch. My parents smashed the cake onto my head. Kyra, on the other hand, took out a handkerchief to wipe away Danny’s tears. That very night, I left a formal writing to cut all legal and personal ties with them.

While negotiating the terms of a project, a client pressured me into downing a large glass of liquor. While I was washing my face in the restroom, I saw my younger sister’s latest Instagram post. [Low salary? What of it? My parents will always support me!] Above the caption was a photo of a property deed with her name on it, along with a message from our parents. [Mom and Dad will always be your safety net!] It was in a newly developed residential complex. It was also the very neighborhood I had been desperately saving up for a downpayment to buy a home in. At that moment, a torrent of complex emotions washed over me. I splashed my face with water. After clearing my head, I sent a message to my manager, Mr. Jenkins. [I’m willing to take on that overseas project you mentioned.]

Mom and Dad have been divorced for ten years. One day, I come across a discussion thread. "Are all children of divorce having it hard?" I join the discussion. "Not always. Personally, I'm living pretty decently. After my parents' divorce, my sister and I were separated—one of us went to live with our paternal grandparents, and the other with our maternal grandparents. "For the last ten years, my parents have visited me once a year. Although they usually only stay for a few days, I can tell that they still love me." Within a minute, someone replies to my comment. "Girl, are you sure? My parents are divorced as well, but they can't bear to leave me at all. I've been with them since I was a kid. On weekdays, I stay with my mom. On the weekend, I go to my dad's. "Honestly, it's like they never divorced at all. LOL." I tap into her profile. The pinned post is a photo of Mom, Dad, and my sister, Hazel Foster. They hug her from either side. The caption reads, "A divorce can end a marriage, but it can't erase the bond we share. I'm glad I'll always be their precious baby." Meanwhile, this morning, Mom replies to me, "Your dad and I have been divorced for so long. Just get him to drop you off at college. It's awkward for me to be there." The next second, I receive Dad's reply. "Ask your mom. I'm a man. What do I know about things like orientation and college? I'll visit you someday when I'm free." I go back to the discussion thread and write back to Hazel. "You're right. Whether or not a child of divorce gets to live a normal life depends entirely on whether the parents still want their child in their lives." After closing the page, I open my email and sign up for an international volunteer program. My destination is a field hospital in a war zone five thousand miles away, where I will spend the next two years. There's no need for me to wait until Mom and Dad have time for me again. I'm never coming back here.

We'd just moved into a new house, and along with it came a brand-new fingerprint lock on the front door. On moving day, my parents rounded up the whole family to register their fingerprints. I was the only one left standing outside in the cold for half an hour. By the time I was finally let back in, my brother and sister were already testing the new lock, giddy with excitement. My mother cupped my sister's hand fondly, as if the fingerprint scanner might have hurt her fingers. "Oh, our little princess has her face and fingerprint all set up now. No need to worry about forgetting her keys." My father beamed, unable to stop smiling. "From now on, if anyone ever dares lock Cassandra out of this house, they'll have to answer to me first!" Nobody seemed to think there was anything wrong with that. I looked at the lock and asked quietly, "Dad, what about my fingerprint?" The smile on my father's face faltered for a second. He waved a hand dismissively. "The app for this lock only lets four people register. Your mom and I plus your brother and sister already fill all four slots. There's no room left for you." My mother shot me a look of open distaste. "You barely even leave the house. What do you need to register your fingerprint for? Just knock when you get back, isn't that simple enough?" I watched the four of them, huddled together in cheerful harmony, and thought back to something my parents had said when they bought the lock. 'A real family is one where anyone can push the door open and walk in, any time they want.' As it turned out, I had only ever been the outsider who had to knock. If there had never been a place for me in that house, then I decided I wouldn't be walking through that door again.

As Christmas drew near, my little sister claimed she’d seen Santa Claus in the house. “He had four legs, real long, like dead branches. He crawled on the floor like a dog. His mouth was full of teeth, and I saw him with my own eyes, climbing out of the chimney. His bones were making this clicking, clacking sound.” The Santa she described was nothing like the legends. My parents and I thought it was just her imagination. Until I posted about it online. A user named “NocturneNotes” insisted my sister wasn’t lying, and that the thing was dangerous. Panicked, I asked him what we should do. He gave me three rules: “On Christmas Eve, from 11:30 PM to 2:00 AM, the entire family must ‘sleep’ by the Christmas tree.” “You can’t actually fall asleep, or you’ll die in your sleep.” “No matter what you hear or feel, you absolutely cannot open your eyes or stop pretending to be asleep. Once it hits 2:00 AM, it will leave on its own.”

After I came of age, I entered the Gallo family's trial period. Only those who passed the family's trials within five years would earn the right to wear the family crest. Anyone who failed would be sent to the shooting range as a live target. This year's trial was to seize a weapons shipment at the port. I was the first to locate the weapons cache, but when Vera blundered into the ambush, I had to stay behind and clean up the mess to save her. After the fierce gunfight, my team's casualties ended up exactly one more than Vera's. At the crest ceremony, my mother Carmela once again pinned the family crest to Vera Gallo's chest, smiling with satisfaction. "Vera brought back the weapons with the fewest casualties. She passes the trial again this year, without question. "Not that the crest needs to be awarded twice, but Elsa, you really aren't as capable as Vera. Better luck next time." Better luck next time. I'd been hearing those exact words for four years straight. Ever since Vera was brought back four years ago, I, the adopted orphan, had become the most unwelcome person in the house. Because she claimed everything I had should have been hers. The moment she heard that Carmela had treated me well, she'd spiral into hysterics and threaten to kill herself. From then on, I waited four years and never once received the crest from Carmela's hands. This time, I was done waiting. I was going home. My real home.

On my 18th birthday, I stabbed my father. My father adamantly insisted that he had simply tripped, so I was never charged with a crime. Everyone called me an ungrateful pig. Only one reporter was willing to interview me. "Your father adamantly shielded you from blame. How can you be so heartless?" I smiled faintly. "Live with me for one month. If you can endure that, I'll show you the truth."

On my 18th birthday, my triplet brothers adopted a fifteen-year-old orphan girl. To make their newly adopted sister happy, Matthew gave her my coming-of-age gift, Daniel sent away the dog that had grown up with me because she was allergic, and William coldly told me to get out of the house and stop making their little sister upset. I didn't say another word. I just packed my bags and left. They all thought I was just throwing a tantrum and would be back in a few days. My three brothers canceled their busy work schedules to take the orphan girl abroad to relax her nerves. They went to see the Northern Lights in Alaska – the place I had always dreamed of visiting. Many days later, when they returned from their vacation, they suddenly learned that I had volunteered for a twenty-year medical research mission in a remote frontier. I would never be coming home again. That night, they fell apart.

I had spent six months drifting across the ocean on a cargo ship, but I would send 20,000 dollars back home every month. So, I really only had one thing on my mind the day I finally set foot on solid ground again—my wife's pork rib soup. When I pushed open the front door, I found my seven-month-pregnant wife, Sophia Merkin, sitting on our worn-out sofa. At that moment, my six months' worth of exhaustion, frustration, and pent-up anger from the roiling life at sea surged to the surface. "I've been busting my ass out there and working more than 10 hours a day. Yet, I don't even get a hot meal at home when I'm finally home?" Sophia said nothing. Instead, she walked over to the refrigerator and yanked the door open. That was when I saw that the fridge only had half a jar of ketchup and a bag of expired pasta with bugs. Then, she asked me dully, "What do you want to eat? Take your pick."

According to the Moretti family's rules, my twin sister Chloe and I were supposed to inherit our grandmother's trust when we turned eighteen. But the night before the trust was unlocked, my mother came to us with red-rimmed eyes and told us the family was three million dollars in debt. We needed to pay it off immediately. My fiancé Damian held my hand and moved our wedding date up to the end of the year. He promised we'd face it together. That night, Chloe and I both signed the waiver. Three days later, I got my Harvard acceptance letter with a full scholarship. I rushed home early to share the news—and walked straight into the living room projector still running. On the screen was a group chat I'd never seen before. It was called "Protect Chloe." [Did she sign?] [She signed. She voluntarily gave up her inheritance. Everything belongs to Chloe now.] [That's what Chloe deserves. Vivian's the older sister. She should be the one to give in.] [She doesn't need that much money anyway. She'll have the Salvatorre Donna title soon enough.] Because I was born ten minutes before Chloe, my parents had always favored her. And now, even my fiancé had chosen her side. I didn't say a word. I confirmed my Harvard enrollment and booked a flight to Boston. They thought I'd do what I always did—get angry, cry, then come crawling back. But this time, I was really done with them.

The day after I awakened my wolf spirit, my parents took us into the mountains for an outing. We were suddenly attacked by a pack of rogues. Tommy, my older brother, whose wolf spirit was weak, came bursting out of the bushes and hid behind Dad. Ella, my little sister, who hadn't awakened her wolf spirit yet, trembled uncontrollably in Mom's arms. My family pushed me into a cave and left me behind. I looked at them through the thorny bushes. Mom glanced back at the cave entrance before grabbing my siblings' hands. "There are too many rogues. Alice, stay hidden. We'll get the two of them to safety and come back for you." Dad urged anxiously, "Alice is agile. She'll be fine. We need to hurry. We can't let the rogues find Ella!" With that, he led the three of them down a narrow trail through the woods while keeping himself between them and the danger. The howls grew closer and closer. Although I'd awakened my wolf spirit, there was no way I could take on such an enormous pack of rogues alone. All I could do was hug myself and pray that Dad and Mom would come back soon. Suddenly, thunder rumbled outside the cave, and heavy raindrops pelted my face. I was reminded of the time I'd been hunted by hunters as a pup. The scene had been exactly the same. Mom and Dad had each scooped up one of my siblings and told me to run behind them on my own. I'd been caught by the hunters. When I'd finally managed to escape and return home, battered and exhausted, all they had said was, "You ran too slowly. You need more training." The thought alone made my wolf whimper in distress. The next second, a message from my mentor, Vera Lambert, popped up on my phone. [Royal City's Moonlight Academy has an extra exchange student slot. Would you like to take it?] I replied instantly. [I'll take it.]

My younger sister, Chloe, and I were transmigrated together into a beastworld continent. Beastmen are classified into four distinct ranks: S, A, B, and C. The tribe chieftain, Gideon, gathered all the single beastmen in the tribe for us to choose from. Chloe chose Garrett, the only A-rank werewolf in the entire tribe. She gave birth to five consecutive litters, yet all her children turned out to be mere B-rank beastmen. Furious, Garrett dissolved their mating bond. The other males refused to take her in either, entirely because the offspring she produced were of a mediocre grade. Meanwhile, I chose a B-rank snake shifter and gave birth to ten children in a single litter—all of whom were A-rank. The entire tribe revered me as a divine lady, and the snake shifter successfully inherited Gideon's position. Consumed by sheer jealousy, Chloe poisoned my ten children to death and pushed me off a cliff, leaving me to plunge to my death. Yet, when I opened my eyes again, we had returned to the exact day of selecting our mates. Without a single moment of hesitation, Chloe chose the snake shifter. I knew right then that she had been reincarnated too. But this time, the children she gave birth to would not even qualify as C-rank.

Growing up, I knew my father hated it when we lost our composure in public. Before Thanksgiving dinner, my sister, Elena, suddenly offered to put my long hair up for me. I didn't say no. I'd barely sat down when I heard the scissors snip behind me. Blond hair I'd spent seven years growing fell to the floor. Elena held up a lock of my hair and doubled over laughing. "Olivia, you look like a clown." I looked at my mother. She looked me over, wineglass in hand, and laughed too. "Don't cry. The guests will be here any minute. Don't let anyone see you fall apart over a few locks of hair." My father frowned and rapped on the table. "Go wash your face. I don't want the guests seeing you like this tonight." Eyes red, I finally looked at my fiancé, Vincent Ashford. He was sliding $2,000 across the table to Elena. "You win." When he saw me looking, he glanced at my hair and chuckled. "She bet you'd cry in one minute. I bet three. You really let me down." Everyone around us burst out laughing. When I was 16, Elena wrote "IDIOT" on the back of my evening gown, and everyone at the party laughed at me. When I was 21, she tore up my recommendation letter, costing me my one chance to leave home and study abroad. Every time, they told me the same thing: It was just a joke. This time, I didn't argue. I looked down at the blond hair all over the floor. Suddenly, it felt like she'd cut off more than my hair. She'd severed the last thread tying me to this family.

The night before the college application deadline, my parents said they wanted to throw me a celebration dinner. I had a pretty good score on my SAT. However, the moment I reached the restaurant entrance, a few lines of text suddenly floated in front of my eyes. [Don't go in.] [Tonight at dinner, your parents and your guidance counselor are going to get your account verification code out of you.] [They're going to swap your application to a top out-of-state university for the local teachers' college, the one that locks you into teaching here after you graduate.] [Your counselor will log in from the school's computer lab and make it look like you confirmed it yourself.] [Once the admission results come out, your dad will tear up your ID and lock you in the house until you accept your fate.] [From then on, your paychecks will go toward your brother's downpayment first.] [You'll be stuck in this town forever.] I stood outside the building, chilled to the bone. A second later, my phone rang. It was Mom. "Callie, why aren't you up here yet? Mr. Ormsby said the application portal tends to lag tonight, so it's better to confirm early and be done with it."