Cerita Pendek & Novel Pathological

The day my exam results came in, I called out toward the living room the way I always used to. "Mom, Dad, I got a perfect score! I can go to a university in Kingsgate and be with Gary and Callum!" Silence was the only answer. On the couch sat four little plush dolls. They were Dad, Mom, my brother Gary Sheridan, and Callum Ward, the boy I had grown up with. Their round, stitched eyes stared back at me the way they had on countless other nights, keeping me company in silence. That was when I remembered. A year ago, my sister, Blythe Sheridan, had gotten sick. They said it was my fault, that my grades had been too good, that the pressure had nearly driven her to kill herself. That was why I became the person the family needed to hide, and they sent me to this rented room. The first night after I moved in, the drunkard next door pounded on my door by mistake. I hid under the blankets, too terrified to make a sound, too scared to even cry. All I could do was call my parents, my brother, and Callum over and over again. However, the only thing that I got was the cold, flat tone of a busy signal.

My mother was a veteran HR director, so she built a performance scorecard for my entire childhood. A perfect test score earned me ten minutes on my phone. Finishing first in school earned me a milkshake. Whatever I wanted, I had to earn with grades. After I entered Crestmont Institute of Technology, I spent three straight years at the top of my program. According to her rules, that was worth one thousand dollars. When I came home, she tossed a single dollar bill at me. "So what if you're still first? Your GPA has slipped by a tenth of a point every year. You have the nerve to ask for a reward?" Beside her, my brother lounged with the keys to his new Hawthorne sedan spinning around one finger. My stomach sank. "When I got into Crestmont Tech, you said I wasn't valedictorian, so all I deserved was a used scooter. "Why does he get a new car for barely making it into community college..." Mom's eyes flashed. "You and Tyler are completely different. "He went from having no chance at college to getting accepted somewhere. That's progress. You're moving backward. "Since you've chosen to coast, I'm cutting off your living expenses next semester. We only invest resources in people who improve. "Raise your GPA by finals, then come trade your grades for money." I walked outside without another word and made a call. "You really are me, ten years from now. You were right. Her performance system only applies to me." Future me answered calmly. "Tomorrow, sell the artwork Dad left you. Three of the pieces are genuine old masters. "Put every dollar into your research project. No matter what anyone says, don't abandon it. That project is your way into Crestmont's tech elite. "Let this family lose a future multimillionaire over one thousand dollars."

My son, Damian Stone, has mild asthma. The doctor has recommended that he train his lungs through light swimming, and it so happens that Damian loves swimming. I've donated five million dollars to Damian's school for a temperature-controlled swimming arena and full-range purifier system because of this. I've even paid a professional safety officer to disinfect and keep an eye on the arena daily. But one day, when I head to Damian's school earlier than usual to pick him up, I find him locked up in the equipment room. He's soaking wet and has his arms wrapped around his trembling knees while using his inhaler. The doors of the swimming arena I've donated have a notice stuck on them that reads: "For Timothy's private use only. No freeloaders allowed."

I'm an energetic child, while my parents are elegant and refined. They're the type of people who don't make a sound even when they're flipping a page of a book. They want me to be quiet, but I just can't do it. Dad gets rashes all over his body whenever I just run a few steps around the house. "It's all your fault for being so unruly," Mom snaps, shooting an icy look at me. "That's why your father developed an allergy. Stay away from him from now on." I nod, feeling stunned. Mom and Dad send me to live with Grandpa in the countryside when I'm seven years old. They promise to take me home once a year has passed. I count the days on my fingers that are covered with chilblains, waiting year after year. During the winter of my sixth year in the countryside, Grandpa closes his eyes and doesn't wake up again. Mom and Dad finally remember that I'm still in the countryside. As the days turn warmer to herald the coming of spring, I finally return home. However, when I step across the threshold, I see a young boy quietly reading a book. Mom pats the boy's head with a tenderness that I've never experienced. "This is your brother, Seth Jameson," she says. "Look how quiet and well-behaved he is." It turns out that I've lost my place in this home a long time ago.

"Stop it, Daddy. Don't shove anymore. You're going to break me…" In the bathroom, my stepfather, Fabian Cox, tears my skirt away forcefully. My name is Lily West, and I am a freshman in college. I have a breathtakingly pretty face, coupled with a voluptuous figure and long, slender legs. The moment I step onto the campus, many young men are instantly attracted to me. However, I don't dare to date any of them. I've just turned 18 years old, and I have a condition that I'm highly ashamed of.

When the telescope inside the apartment opposite mine locked onto me, I was curled up on my bed, trembling all over from the toy. When I realized I was being spied on, the panic was accompanied by overwhelming pleasure and excitement. I reached my climax under that intense gaze, becoming completely disheveled, as if being caressed and toyed with by those eyes. I did the boldest thing I had ever done in my life. I faced the intense gaze from afar and slowly parted my legs, showing him how I swallowed the toy. I had no idea that this gaze would soon lead me to countless dizzying losses of control.

My mother is a powerhouse, but she somehow ends up with me, a coward with claustrophobia. "What claustrophobia? You're just being dramatic!" In order to help me "desensitize," she builds a pitch-black, soundproof room in the house. In elementary school, I scream and cry in terror the first time she locks me inside, and she punishes me by not letting me eat for three days. In middle school, I try harder to hold it together and only let out a few quiet whimpers, but she makes me kneel in the snow for a full day and night. I tough it out all the way through senior year, telling myself that getting into college and leaving home will fix everything. But on the day of my acceptance party, she decides to show off the results of her desensitization in front of all the guests and locks me straight into the dark room. "Mom!" I drop to my knees, crying and begging as my dignity gets shredded to pieces. "My claustrophobia is gone, I swear. I'm begging you, please don't lock me in there." The look in her eyes is almost unhinged. "No! If you don't go in, you'll never go to college." But eventually, I really am cured. So Mom, why can't you smile anymore?

In the fifth year since Ethan used the Wishing Willow to make me obsessively, madly in love with him, he finally got sick of it. He was sick of my nonstop check-in texts, of me hiring investigators to track his location over and over. Most of all, he couldn't stand the fact that every time I found out he was somewhere other than his office or our home, I'd show up and put a silver blade through every woman who got too close to him. After I nearly stabbed Barbara again, he didn't care that I was falling apart. He went straight to Barbara's apartment without looking back. I stood outside the door and watched him gently touch the cut I'd left on Barbara's arm, guilt all over his face. "I can't take Lydia's nonstop surveillance anymore. I really can't, Barbara." On the sofa, Barbara held up the Wishing Willow that had been tossed into a corner. "Remember the Wishing Willow? Why not try breaking it?" "I just want you to be happy." Ethan gave a tired, helpless smile, but he went along with her and picked up the Wishing Willow. He snapped it in half. "If it's possible, let Lydia leave my life for good." What Ethan didn't know was that the moment the new Wishing Willow broke, the demon's hold on my body was released. Just as he wished, that same night I drank the bond-breaking potion on my own and lost every memory of ever loving him. From that moment on, we had nothing to do with each other.

Back home in Sicily, every daughter of a Don had to follow one rule before marriage: Her fiancé had to enter the Moretti estate’s underground family chapel and undergo one final loyalty test. If he came out still willing to go through with the wedding, it meant the marriage had earned the Family’s approval. Both of my younger sisters married the men they loved at twenty, after their fiancés passed the ritual without incident. But I was already thirty, and I had never married. Because over the years, every man who claimed to love me would follow my father into that underground chapel. The moment he came out, he would break up with me. Some looked at me with disgust. Some hated me. One even pulled a gun on me the moment he stepped out of the chapel. I asked my father countless times what was inside. He would only tell me that it was a loyalty test every man who wished to marry a Don’s daughter had to pass. Then my new boyfriend went in. An hour later, he came charging out, slammed me to the ground, and wrapped both hands around my throat. His eyes held nothing but fear and hatred. Just before I lost consciousness, I heard him roar at my father, “Why didn’t you tell me sooner what she really is?”