Historias cortas y novelas de Male POV Biological Family

In my previous lifetime, the entire medical world had acknowledged me as Godhand. But I was forced to become a scapegoat for my genius younger brother, Matthew Lachman, in a medical malpractice case, which resulted in me getting my medical license revoked and being sentenced to seven years in prison Before I was set to go to jail, my fiancee, Winona Green, personally severed my tendon in my dominant wrist just so she could force me to sign the papers. Since then, I was tormented and bullied relentlessly in jail. In the end, I died in my cold and dark cell out of depression. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day I'm set to go to jail as a wronged person. This time, I no longer remain depressed. I decide to continue living properly so that I can clear my name one day. In the prison, I use my amazing medical skills to save the inmates' lives and build my own connections. Since I've been on my best behavior, my sentence keeps getting reduced. That's how I get released from prison in advance. After my release, I hide my identity and open an auto repair shop on the streets. One day, my entire family barges into my shop. My mother kneels in a puddle of grease as she says pleadingly, "Jamie, Matthew is ill. You're the only one who can perform the high-precision surgery on him. Please save him!" Meanwhile, Winona clutches the engagement contract from before. With tears running down her cheeks, she promises me, "I will marry you right away as long as you can save Matthew's life!" I merely lift my hand, which is trembling so much that I can barely hold a wrench properly. A self-deprecating smile is plastered on my face this time. "Have you forgotten that you're the ones who have personally crippled my hand? Since you want me to perform that surgery so badly, does that mean you actually want Matthew dead instead?"

My parents have sued me in a court that deals with unfilial cases. If I'm proven to be guilty, I will be sentenced to ten years in jail. Meanwhile, my younger brother, Cody Briggs, and our parents will inherit all of my assets. At the same time, they will be blessed with luck and longevity. But if I'm proven to be innocent, Cody will be thrown behind bars for 100 years. Our parents will be plagued by misfortune, and they will also contract diseases. As for me, I will receive a ten-million-dollar prize, and I get to maintain my youth for eternity. My friends and relatives keep telling me to apologize to my parents, simply because they've seen the way my parents love and care for me. If there's a reason behind their misbehavior, it must be because they are suffering from pain and agony that's unknown to me. But what they don't know is that I've gotten reborn. This time, I swear that I'll reveal my parents' true colors!

Out of recognition for my achievements in the medical field, I've been made a member of the prestigious International Medical Institute. I return to the country after that. Yet, on my very first day at work, my niece, Angie Judd, ends up dying tragically in my ward. When she's found, the lower half of her body is covered in a sticky substance, and part of her uterus has dropped down. Her mother, Melanie Larson, has an emotional breakdown and jumps to her death. Her father, my adopted younger brother, Cody Judd, furiously stabs me in the abdomen. My wife, Serena Thompson, calls me a monster and immediately files for divorce. She ends up marrying Cody the moment the divorce is finalized. To make it up to Cody, my father, the police commissioner, uses his connections to forgo a proper investigation and have me imprisoned for sexual assault. My mother, the CEO of a company, takes it upon herself to transfer all of my assets to Cody. She also helps him become a renowned billionaire philanthropist in Crestbay. With no way of defending myself, I end up spending eight years in prison. The day I finally get released from prison, the entire family shows up at the prison entrance to wait for me. Serena, who's now my ex-wife, approaches with reddened eyes to hug me, but the look of concern on her face seems so fake to me. "All that matters is you've come back to us now, Hector. From now on, I'll always be by your side." The moment she finishes speaking, the nearby civilians swarm all around me. "Hector Judd! You got lucky with just an eight-year sentence! You should've been castrated and shot to death!" "That's right! To think you even hurt your own niece! You're a monster!" The endless torture and abuse I'd suffered in prison have left me feeling rather dazed. Eventually, a man who had once received financial aid from Cody rushes up and throws a bucket of sewage water at my face. "You monster! Mr. Judd even had to cancel his celebration party today just to welcome you home after your release from prison! You killed his wife and daughter, ruining his family, and now, you're even stealing the rest of the only family he still has? Go to hell!" Inhaling the putrid stench, I let out a sneer. They were the ones who falsified the evidence to throw me in prison back then. They broke my legs and injected me with a neurotoxic drug that addled my brain, making it impossible for me to protest. They did all of those things just to cover up the fact that Cody is the real murderer!

The notice of my mother's layoff sat on the kitchen table. Rent was due in three days. My younger brother's tutoring fees were already two weeks late. And my little sister, Stephanie, clutched her acceptance letter to the local public arts high school like she'd done something wrong. None of this would be happening if it weren't for me. My illness had taken everything our family had saved. I stayed in my room, leaning against the door, wanting to tell them I'd drop out of treatment—but I couldn't bring myself to open it. "Why did he have to fall sick?" My mother was crying, her voice low and tight, like the words were being forced out of her. "If it were just you both, Stephanie and Jamie, we'd be fine by now." "Mom, please don't say that." My brother and sister held her, barely holding back their own tears. "He's a burden… but he's still my son." Her voice cracked. "I just… I can't do this anymore…" I stepped back and sank into my chair. It wasn't an accusation. It was a verdict.

During my senior-year internship, I opened my family's entire gemstone mine for my classmates to dig and collect from. However, Keith Coburn shamelessly stole my identity as a wealthy scion and claimed the mine belonged to his family instead. After I exposed his lies, he shoved me straight off the cliff. I begged the girl I'd supported for help. Unfortunately, she chose to stand by Keith's side rather than save me. She even delivered the final blow herself. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the moment Keith pushed me off the cliff. This time, I immediately called my fiercely protective father for help. I'd like to see how long Keith could keep up this rich scion act once my father arrived.

I'm the most obedient child in the village. Since I've failed to keep an eye on my younger brother, which has resulted in him suffering from a fall, my adoptive mother, Patricia Henson, breaks my left lower leg bone with an iron poker. "You useless bastard! Why can't you just die already? I was the one who saved your life, so you should pay me back with that life of yours!" As I look up at Patricia, I nod quietly. "Okay, Mom." Then, I turn around to grab the bottle of rat poison that's sitting on the kitchen counter. After unscrewing the cap, I begin chugging down the chemicals. Patricia is shocked out of her mind by my antics. Her screams fill the kitchen as she lunges at me just to knock the bottle out of my hands. But I've already taken a huge gulp of the poison by then. I end up getting sent to the hospital, where the doctors spend the next few days saving my life. Due to the severity of this incident, it's reported on the news, allowing my biological parents to track me down. Later on, they take me back to my actual home, which is a luxurious manor. But my older brother, Dominic Richmond, calls me filthy and wants me to cleanse myself properly. So, I grab a steel scourer and begin scrubbing my entire body with it. It doesn't take long before I'm completely drenched in my own blood. Some time later, Derek Richmond, my adopted younger brother whom everyone sings praises about, calls me disgusting with tears streaming down his cheeks. He also claims that he doesn't want to see me at all. Dominic points at the balcony while yelling at me, "Can't you just die already?" As I look at him, I just smile serenely. "Okay, Dominic." After that, I jump off the balcony. At that moment, I hear Dominic's hysterical screams.

I had always been obedient and compliant. I never dared to disobey others' instructions. The day my wealthy biological parents brought me home, my adoptive brother leaned close to my ear and sneered arrogantly, "The position of the Spencer family's heir belongs to me. If you know what's good for you, get lost on your own." I nodded obediently. Then I turned around and threw myself straight into rush-hour traffic on the highway. My parents nearly lost their minds. Panicked and trembling, they dragged me back into the car, their faces drained white with terror. My sister's expression darkened as she warned me coldly in my ear, "If you pull another stunt for attention, believe me, I'll throw you right back into the doghouse you came from." I obediently listened. That very night, I locked myself inside a dog crate. My sister froze in complete shock. Gritting her teeth, she yanked me out, staring at me like she'd seen a ghost. Later, when my adoptive brother pretended to be sick, my sister forced me to donate blood for him. I obediently took the knife. Without the slightest hesitation, I slashed straight through the artery in my wrist. By the time my parents rushed over, blood had just begun spraying out. They screamed in horror and lunged forward to press against my wound. "Somebody call 911! Now!!!" My sister had gone just as pale. After a long moment of stunned silence, she finally stammered, "Mom, Dad… I only told him to donate a little blood to Eric. I never told him to slit his wrist…" I blinked. My sister wasn't lying. She really hadn't taught me that. It was something the traffickers taught me during the five years my family personally handed me over to them—to "learn obedience."

The day my college acceptance letter arrived, Dad cooked a whole table of my favorite dishes. Then he poured himself a full glass of liquor and downed it in one go. “Nineteen years ago, I switched you with my biological son so he could grow up with the city’s wealthiest family and live like a prince. “I kept you from studying because I was afraid you’d turn out too impressive and they’d come looking for you. “But today, their whole family is moving overseas. You’ll never find your real parents now.” He smiled cruelly. “You’re just a loser who got into some mediocre college. You were beaten half-deaf, and you’re missing a kidney. Why would they ever want you back?” I looked at him in silence. What he would never know was that the wealthy family had switched the babies back nineteen years ago. I had been his biological son all along.

The day my wealthy biological parents finally took me home, my eight godmothers stood at the gate with tears in their eyes as they watched me leave. I had barely been back for two days when everything changed. It was all because I scored one hundred points higher than the fake heir on our final exam mock test. My own parents took me to an underground black market hospital. They were going to cut out my brain and transplant it into the fake heir. "You've already taken Braxton's place as the center of the family," my mother said coldly. "Giving him your brilliant brain is the least you can do to make it up to him." "Don't worry," my father added with a smile. "We'll find you an ordinary brain afterward. We'll take care of you for the rest of your life." Braxton grinned as he leaned close. "Let me tell you a little secret. I bribed the surgeon. The brain they're putting in your head belongs to an idiot. "Your life is over." I struggled with everything I had, refusing to give up. Then they dragged me out of the car. The moment I looked up at the building, I almost laughed. Was this not the hospital owned by my eight godmothers? When I left home, my eldest godmother — the CEO — had sent me off with red-rimmed eyes. She vowed back then, "If anyone in the Long family dares lay a finger on you, I'll bankrupt them before they know what hit them." My second godmother, a renowned surgeon, had said nothing at all. She had simply continued wiping down her scalpel. It seemed like Braxton and the Long family had walked straight into a trap they would never escape from.

I was a ghost hunter. My client had bought a haunted manor. Everyone who moved inside ended up losing their minds, so they paid me a huge sum to exorcise the place. However, I had a feeling that I had bitten off more than I could chew. After moving in and fighting against the evil ghost for half a year, I could not handle it anymore and decided to move out to rest for a bit. Before my mind even cleared up completely, Ronald Durkin, my uncle, called me. “Apollo, Jessica just finished sitting for her SATs. I want the entire family to go with her on her graduation trip, but hotels are just too expensive. I heard that you rented a huge manor in the capital. Why don’t you let us stay there?” He then gave me some money, saying that it was rent. When I checked, I found that he had only given me a single cent. My mouth twitched, but I still patiently explained the situation to him. “Uncle Ronald, the manor is haunted. No one can move inside. Why don’t I give you three thousand dollars so that you could book a hotel?” I certainly did not expect him to hang up on me without another word and tag everyone in the family group chat. [Guys, everyone will be going dutch for the trip this time. Apollo will be providing us free lodgings in a ten thousand square feet manor in the capital.] The family group chat went wild, and everyone praised me for being a good boy. I simply could not laugh along with them. That place was uninhabitable!

When I start middle school, Dad quits his job to become my full-time study coach. He devotes every ounce of energy to monitoring my academics and refuses to let a single distraction near me. My best friend in middle school has average grades, so Dad goes straight to his parents for a talk. "My son is going to a top school. Don't let your kid's low IQ rub off on him." I lose my closest friend after that, and the rest of my classmates start keeping their distance too. In high school, the class rep asks me a math question one day, and Dad sees it happen. Without a word, he slaps her across the face. "Already flirting with boys at your age? I'll have the principal expel you! "Just asking a question? My son's study time is precious. If you're too stupid to figure it out, hire a tutor!" After that, I have no social life left at all. I finally get into a top university out of state. Dad even agrees to let me live in the dorms. I think this is my chance to break free. But on move-in day, he shows up at the campus gate, suitcases in hand. "Let's go, Tyler! I thought it over and decided to move here with you!"

In my sophomore year of college, my family went bankrupt. My mother was diagnosed with cancer, while my father was diagnosed with depression. Without hesitation, I dropped out of college and took on the responsibility of supporting them. I went from being the privileged heir to the Lawson family fortune to an exhausted laborer barely scraping by almost overnight. My skin grew tan from working under the sun. My hands became covered in calluses. Eventually, prolonged exposure to toxic levels of formaldehyde at one of my jobs gave me leukemia. I refused treatment and kept the diagnosis from my parents. Instead, I worked harder than ever. I was not afraid of dying. I was only afraid that I would die before I had saved enough for their surgeries. One morning, after coughing up a mouthful of blood, I took a cab straight to work. Just as I had intended, I died at my desk, leaving my parents with a strong claim for compensation from the company. However, after my death, I saw them living happily in a luxury home downtown, doting on a little girl who looked about ten years old. It turned out that my family had never gone bankrupt and that neither of my parents had ever been sick. The entire ordeal had been nothing more than a test they had devised for me.

The summer after the college entrance exams, my parents promise to take me on a beach vacation. I start packing my suitcase one month in advance, including a pair of swim trunks, sunscreen, my camera, and a detailed travel itinerary that I stay up late every night preparing. The night before we leave, my younger brother, Oscar McCreery, suddenly announces that he wants to invite my childhood best friend, Celia Ruginis. Dad glances at the airline tickets and frowns. "We don't have enough rooms." My chest tightens. The next second, Mom snatches my passport out of my hand. "You can sit this one out, Nate. Your brother and Celia just made up. They need this." My older sister, Michelle McCreery, picks up my suitcase and sets it down beside Oscar. "Nate's already packed everything. You can just take this," she says to him. I turn to Celia. She once told me that we'd go to see the ocean together after my college entrance exams. But now, she just reaches for the suitcase. "Ozzy has always been terrified you'd steal everyone away. Just let him have his peace of mind this time." Oscar's eyes redden as his voice chokes with emotion. "Nathan, I just really want one family trip." A family trip. What a joke. Apparently, they're only a family without me around. Departure alerts flood my phone screen. There are only three hours left until boarding. I stand in the entryway, watching my suitcase disappear into the distance. That's when it hits me. For the past few years, I've been like excess baggage to them. They bring me along when I'm useful and leave me behind when I become inconvenient. The ocean breeze never even reaches me, but somehow, I have no desire to see the sea anymore.

On the day the SAT scores came out, I got a perfect 1600. My older sister’s expression instantly darkened, and she locked me in the basement. Just because our cousin scored 200 points lower than me, she ordered people to drive two hundred nails into my body. I kneeled on the ground and begged for mercy, but my sister remained entirely unmoved. One hundred and ninety-nine nails were driven deep into my flesh. The final nail was slammed straight into my heart. My sister looked at me in my weakened state. Her voice was cold. "You deserve this! You have the love of Mom, Dad, and me, but Zachary lost his parents at a young age and has been all alone. You are already happy enough, but you just had to score higher than him to humiliate him! "Your life has been too easy. Today, I am going to make you feel true agony!" I lay there as my strength faded. My spirit was completely broken. To comfort our cousin, my sister rented a luxury yacht for him for an entire month. When our parents were about to return to the country to celebrate my success, my sister finally ordered her men to release me. That was when she received a frantic phone call from the housekeeper. "The hospital has delivered Mr. Steven's death certificate!"

My father threatened to kill himself three times to control my life. The first time was when I was applying to college. He climbed onto the roof and demanded that I turn down offers from prestigious out-of-state universities and enroll at a local state college instead. I gave in. Even though my grades were good enough to earn a place at one of the country's top universities, I ended up staying in my hometown. The second time came after I graduated from college. I had landed a job with a company in a major city and was ready to finally build a life of my own. However, my father climbed onto the roof of the company's building and threatened to jump unless I quit and came home. Once again, I surrendered. I returned to my hometown and took a low-paying job at an auto repair shop where my father had pulled a few strings to get me hired. The third time, he climbed onto the roof again. This time, he forced me to marry a woman I had only met once, simply because he believed she would be 'the perfect wife'. I obeyed. Only after we were married did I discover the truth. She was already pregnant with another man's child, and I had been nothing more than the fool expected to clean up the mess. In the end, I could not endure it any longer. I stepped off the rooftop. … When I opened my eyes again, I saw my father gritting his teeth as he climbed onto the roof once more. "If you dare go to a college out of state, I'll jump right here!" I looked at him for a moment, then turned and walked away. "Go ahead," I said without looking back. "Just don't waste my time."

Three months after my biological parents bring me home, I come down with a high fever. When I wake up, I gain a strange ability. I can see the "Final Beneficiary" behind every gift. My biological father, Michael Harper, holds a bowl of herbal tonic. He grasps my hand with a guild-ridden expression, saying, "I know I've always favored Zane. From now on, I'll make it up to you." Hovering above the bowl, however, is a line of blue text. "Final Beneficiary: Zane Harper." "Objective: Restore the donor's health in preparation for next week's bone marrow extraction." A chill crawls down my spine, but I keep my composure. Over the next few days, the Harpers' kindness becomes almost excessive. The expensive suit my sister, Maya Harper, gives me has a label attached to it, too. "Beneficiary: Zane Harper." "Objective: Make the fake heir appear more capable at the banquet." The same goes for the company shares my mother transfers to my name. "Beneficiary: Zane Harper." "Objective: Use the true heir as the legal representative to take the fall for the company's impending tax scandal." One night, Maya, who has always despised me, throws her arms around me. Her eyes are red with tears as she says, "We'll send Zane abroad tomorrow. From now on, you'll be the only one I spoil." At that moment, a massive crimson label flashes over her head, stinging my eyes. "Final Beneficiary: Zane Harper." "Objective: Appease the real heir and trick him into signing the heart transplant consent form tomorrow."

The year I start 7th grade, my parents sit my brother and me down and hand us each a bank card. "This is your college fund. We've put 100,000 dollars in each account. "The PIN is your birthday. Don't touch it unless you absolutely have to." I listen to them, treating that card like something sacred. I never even buy a single new outfit. When my canvas shoes wear through, I glue the soles back together and keep wearing them. I tell myself that as long as I'm responsible enough, I'll deserve the "fairness" my parents promise us. Then senior year ends, and I decide to use the money for a graduation trip with my classmates. Yet the ATM screen displays, "Available Balance: 0.00". At that exact moment, my brother posts a picture of a first-class ticket to Velmark on Instagram. It hits me all at once. There are two identical cards, but only my brother's has ever had real money in it. My parents have used a worthless card to fool me for six whole years, buying my obedience and my entire adolescence for nothing. If they refuse to keep things fair, then I'll smash the whole facade apart myself.

Ever since I was old enough to understand the world, I knew I was only a replacement for my dead brother. The day before I started elementary school, Mom and Dad took me to buy a backpack. Mom smiled and asked, “Blue or red? Which one do you want?” I picked blue. However, the moment I said it, her smile disappeared. She grabbed my shoulders so tightly that it hurt and screamed at me, “Why didn’t you choose red? Harry would only pick red!” Dad saw her lose control and slapped me across the face. My nose started bleeding. From that day on, whenever I chose something, I only dared to pick the color my brother would have liked. During recess, I was messing around with my classmates when some clay accidentally got stuck in my hair. The teacher kindly helped me cut it off. However, when Mom came to pick me up, she completely lost it. “Henry never had a buzz cut. You’re not my son!” She shoved me off the back of her electric scooter. I cried as I chased after her, running for half an hour before finally making it home. To keep from upsetting her again, I started copying my brother in everything. It was not until after the SATs that Mom demanded I give up my future and attend the community college near our house, even though I was the top scorer.

After I set up the camera, I realized the clients booked for a family portrait were the parents and older brother I'd run from five years earlier. The moment our eyes met, my mother's smile froze. Her eyes went red, and she asked uncertainly, "Remy... is that you?" "You're alive?" With one finger resting on the shutter, I reminded them, "Keep smiling. Look at the camera." My father shot to his feet. "Are you really this spiteful? Five years of hiding from us. What grievance in a family takes five years to get over?" I looked at the dog beside my brother, also named Remy, and couldn't understand what he was angry about. They were the ones who'd spent my whole childhood telling me I existed for one reason: to be marrow for my brother. Even the dog got to be in the family portrait I wasn't allowed in as a child. I gave up on that family a long time ago.

By the time I woke inside the body of the true heir in a novel, the one everyone despised and who had never done a single decent thing, the story was already nearing its end. My biological parents gave up on me after I framed the boy they had raised in my place one time too many. My fiancee was hopelessly obsessed with him. She would have paid for a ten-million-dollar wedding out of her own pocket just to make him smile. My biological sister was his fiercest protector. If I said one thing that upset him, she was ready to make me pay. As the person everyone despised, my ending was obvious. Everyone voted to send me away to a private behavioral-health residence. Curled against him, my fiancee mocked me. "Maybe you'll finally learn how to behave." My parents withdrew everything except a monthly ten-thousand-dollar allowance. "That's the minimum support we'll give you." "Beyond that, you're on your own." I was so delighted that I dropped to one knee and swept them a deep, theatrical bow. "You're too kind, Your Majesty." The next second, every face in the room changed.