Poor Student Plot Twists Short Stories & Novels

After my father, Peter Johnson, remarried, everyone told me that I had two nemeses. One was my biological mother, Lilian Reid, who had left me to live overseas. Another one was my stepmother, Gloria Black, who had basically taken my father away. Lilian would send me monthly text messages, though, asking if I had enough money. I never answered any of them. Gloria would also often come to my school to give me presents, but I never opened them. They both thought that I hated them. When I was expelled due to overdue school fees, both of them appeared at the same time. My homeroom teacher, Joanne Anderson, placed the overdue bill on the desk. “In order not to spend twenty dollars on her hearing aid’s batteries, your daughter was unable to focus on class for two years.” Lilian’s face fell. “I send her fifty grand every month!” Gloria was also stunned. “I saved up fifty grand for her, too! How is it possible that her school fees are overdue?” I stared at them for a long time without talking. Nancy Andrew, the nanny who took care of me, had told me that Lilian had a new family and that, because of that, she was unwilling to take care of me. Peter, my father, had also told me that Gloria was afraid that I would go after his money, so she was not willing to spend a single cent on me. However, Lilian took out twelve bank transaction slips, while Gloria pulled up a savings account with my name on it. The money that they gave every single month was clearly banked into that same account. But I did not have access to that bank account. I was just about to ask them about it when I suddenly heard Peter’s voice coming from outside. “Why are both of you here?”

I was head over heels for Jonas Hayes, the cold and aloof scholarship student who saw me as nothing more than a walking wallet. He took my credit card but refused to let me get close. "Get lost. The sight of you and your filthy money makes me sick." Using my wealth, he showered Clara Dove, the stunning campus bella from a humble background, with luxury gifts and even threw her a lavish birthday party at the city’s most exclusive hotel. Everyone envied him, believing he was a self-made billionaire. But I didn’t care. I stayed hopelessly in love. After graduation, I poured my entire inheritance into building a life with him, convinced I could win his heart. During our honeymoon, he watched as I drowned, his voice ice-cold as he said, "Every time I think of how you used your money to control me, I wish you’d die sooner." When I woke up again, I was back in my college classroom—the day Jonas asked me to top up his card. This time, I wasn’t the desperate fool he remembered. I slapped him across the face with the card and sneered, "Even beggars know how to kneel and ask. What are you, a weed?"

On the very night Ansel Halberg is in another woman's arms, Odessa Montclair meets a tragic end. The Grim Reaper gives her seven days to return to the world of the living and make one final request. Her only wish is to divorce Ansel and erase every trace of their shared past. She's determined never to cross his path again—neither in this life, nor the next.

The girl I put through ten years of school stood up at her own graduation and thanked me in front of everyone. A second later, three translucent lines appeared in front of my eyes. [She will steal the Prescott family's trade secrets, start her own company, and turn on you.] [She will publish an essay and put the internet on your family. Your wife will die of a heart attack.] [Prescott Logistics will fold. The estate will go to auction. You will die in front of the men you owe.] I stared at her. "Vanessa. Have you spent all these years filing away everything we did for you as a reason to hate us?" She blinked at me, wide-eyed and innocent. That was when I understood. The snake was already full grown. I couldn't just club it to death. I had to open the cage first, and let her crawl in on her own.

Before going to bed, I stumbled onto a love confession livestream. A young man was on screen, talking about his past. "Actually, I was sponsored through college. The guy who supported me was really kind. The summer after my freshman year, I stayed at his place for a while. One night, I went to the kitchen in just a tank top and shorts to get some water, and I ran into his wife. "He thought I was still studying out of state, but the truth is, I've been living in a villa in the same city, kept by his wife. She's pregnant with my twins, so I've already taken a leave from school to take care of her. "I know I've wronged him, but she and I are truly in love. He's always been so lofty—she and I are the ones who belong to the same world." A chill of disgust ran through me. I almost blocked him on the spot, but when I tapped into his profile, I realized he had already blocked me. Curiosity got the better of me. I switched to an alternate account and searched for his ID. What filled the screen were countless photos. Photos of the poor student I had sponsored. And my wife.

My son just had surgery. I'm sitting by his bedside in the hospital when I come across a post online. "What's the worst thing you've ever done?" One anonymous comment stands out. "I used the upperclassman who funded me as a stepping stone. My sponsor was rich but clueless. After she paid for my entire college, I slept with her husband and got pregnant. "The craziest part? My son and her son were born on the same day, but my husband swapped the babies. Now, she treats my son like he's her whole world, working day and night to give him a better life. "But her own son lives with me, wearing hand-me-downs and eating leftovers. Today, my son had surgery. I was worried sick, so I slapped her son hard a few times. "Oh, and her family just got a three-million-dollar payout for relocation. My husband is going to the hospital later. He's going to use the excuse of buying a house near the schools to get the money. "Once we have the money, I'm buying a villa. Then I'll get my son back and kick her out!" The post includes a blurry photo of a boy begging on his knees. My breath catches because the charm on his wrist is the same lucky charm I gave my son the day he was born. Just then, my husband pushes open the door to the ward and walks in. "Honey, Sean's starting elementary school soon. Let's use that relocation money your mom received to buy a house near the schools."

I could hear the thoughts of the poorest girl in the entire school. At our campus ball, she deliberately ate food that contained nuts to give herself an allergic reaction and blame me for it. With tears streaming down her face, she cried, "I know you don't like me! I know you look down on girls as poor as me, but you can't bully me like this!" Everyone believed her and turned on me, including my fiancé, Mark Hawkins, who was expected to form a political alliance with my family through our engagement. He pinned me in place and demanded that I apologize to the 'victim'. I shook my head, trying desperately to explain that it was not me who put the nuts in her food. That was when I heard the thoughts of that 'poor' girl, Alice, ''So what if she's the mafia don's daughter? I still brought her down. Being defended by her rich, clueless fiancé feels incredible!' I was stunned. Before I could react, Mark pushed me to the floor and said firmly, "Helen, apologizing won't kill you." A disbelieving laugh slipped out of me. I wondered if he would still say the same thing if he could hear Alice's thoughts. When I finally gained the ability to share the thoughts I heard with someone else, I chose Mark without hesitation.

The day I became the state's SATs valedictorian, my father, with his dyed blond hair, got so excited he put his food delivery helmet on crooked. He threw his arms around my mother, tears streaming down his face. "Honey! See that? I told you our genes were anything but ordinary! The curse's been lifted! Our son's gone and become the greatest of all time!" My mother, who had just dyed her hair purple, smacked her thigh as she shed tears of joy. "Bull! This is all because I quit the club scene for good and started selling grilled cheese sandwiches at the night market! God has seen my sincerity and rewarded us for it!" As I watched them celebrate like a pair of overgrown teenagers, I read the floating comments across my vision and had to blink away my tears. "You dummies, this has nothing to do with luck!" "You two swallowed so much bitterness just so your son could stand tall in public! Frankie over here got beaten and didn't dare fight back while Tanya pricked her fingers raw just to support his studies. You two sacrificed everything you had just so he could live well."

My family was the wealthiest in Brightwater, Bellweather. Yet my parents never stopped praising the scholarship student they sponsored. According to them, he was brilliant, disciplined, and a thousand times better than their own daughter. I refused to believe it. Using a fake name, I contacted him online, pretended to be a struggling student just like him, and flirted with him for months while searching for something I could use against him. Instead, I discovered that Elliot Pierce was almost painfully honest. Determined to expose the act I was sure he was putting on, I enrolled at Brightwater University through its competitive dance program. On move-in day, I pulled my sports car beside him and deliberately splashed muddy water across his shirt. I lowered my sunglasses and smiled at the mess. "I'm Sienna Wilde, the daughter of the people paying your scholarship. "And you're Elliot Pierce? You're not much to look at. I have no idea what my parents see in you." He calmly wiped the mud from his face, said nothing, and walked away. That night, my phone lit up with a message. Elliot: "Molly, I met the Wildes' daughter today. Compared with her, you're an angel."

I'm the school's most dedicated last-place student. When Hannah Cole, a scholarship student from a poor family who has never dropped from the top of the grade, transfers to our school, I'm studying vocabulary. When she stands up to the school bully, Jamie Murphy, in front of everyone and says, "So what if you're rich?" I'm studying vocabulary. When Jamie goes from constantly picking on her to bringing her breakfast every morning, I'm still studying vocabulary. After all, my dad is an academician, and all six of my brothers have graduated from top universities. They never expect me to excel academically. Instead, they always ask, "Sweetheart, did you have fun at school today?" But I refuse to give up. The worse I am at school, the harder I study. Then the National Language Competition results come out. Hannah only places second nationally. With tears in her eyes, she points at me. "Did you mess up my headphones? You'll do anything to get first place. That's pathetic!" Jamie kicks over my desk, and even my homeroom teacher, Ms. Lucy Gilbert, forces me to apologize to her. I pull up the competition rankings. Well, I do come in first—just from the bottom.

School had just dismissed us for the exam-break when my roommate begged me not to leave her alone in the dorm. She said she was scared and wanted to come home with me. Out of kindness, I brought her back with me. I had no idea that the very first night, she would sneak into my brother's room, and by the next morning, she was screaming that he had assaulted her. Because of that, my brother missed the exam, and his reputation was ruined. When the school board found out, they expelled him. No other school would take him in. To keep me from getting involved in this mess at school, my parents had no choice but to let that roommate live with us. After that, she treated our home like her personal hotel: never lifting a finger, demanding that my parents wait on her every night, and even having them wash her feet. My brother dropped out and took up work at an illegal factory just to support her spending. Then one day, a machine crushed him at that factory. My parents, already exhausted and heartbroken, fell gravely ill and passed away soon after. I was consumed by hatred. In the end, I dragged the roommate who destroyed my family down into the flames with me. Even as I died, I still couldn't understand. What kind of bitter grudge did her family have against mine for her to ruin us like that? But when I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day she asked to come home with me…

My fiancé of eight years moved in with the junior he was mentoring. She was young, pretty, knew how to play helpless, and knew exactly what she was doing. He'd down every toast meant for her—the same nights he let me get talked into drinking until I nearly died. He sat with her through her depression, fetched her water, fed her by hand. And me? I was alone in a hospital bed, burning with a 104-degree fever. He set her up on a pedestal and never noticed I'd been ground into the dirt. The day they discharged me, I didn't scream. I didn't fall apart. I went home, quietly packed a suitcase, and burned every memory that had his name on it. Later I heard the famous CEO of Washington Group showed up at his fiancée's door with millions of dollars in gifts. He found an empty apartment. And he lost his mind.

I've been sponsoring Bree Webb, a young woman who comes from a low-income background. She's being ostracized at school and begs to move into my home. In my last life, I feel sorry for her and let her in. She repays me by accusing my younger brother, Eric Whitmore, of assault. Because of her, his reputation is in tatters, and he's branded as a rapist. Bree squeezes my family dry, demanding compensation at every turn. Eric then sinks into depression and eventually jumps off a building. She walks away with everyone's sympathy and even has the nerve to taunt me to my face. "Leah, thank you so much. Without you, I never could've gone from nothing to this overnight." Now I'm reborn, and Bree shows up again with the same tearful eyes. "Leah, my roommates are bullying me. I lie awake night after night. The doctor says I'm already showing signs of severe depression." I look at that pitiful face of hers and smile. "Sure. But we're doing this by my rules."

When I started college, I wanted a normal college experience, so I refused to use the black card my parents gave me. My roommate, Peggy Slade, was on need-based financial aid. Every day, she did two things. First, she'd sweet-talk her rich, hot online boyfriend and brag about him. Second, she'd make fun of me, the small-town nobody who couldn't even recognize designer brands. All my clothes back home were custom-made, so I honestly didn't know a single logo. I never bothered explaining. Her online romance was more entertaining than reality TV. Then one day, a screenshot of a money transfer popped up on her phone, and I caught a glimpse. 'Wait. She's using my photos for online dating?' Worse, she'd saved her boyfriend under "Arnault Family Heir." 'But the Arnault family in Rivera is my family. And I'm my parents' only daughter.' I immediately called my assistant. "Find out if my parents have an illegitimate kid."

During my legal aid work, I run into a pitiful village girl. Her brother is abusing her, and she has nearly died from his fist. As a lawyer, I can't stand aside and do nothing. So, I help her. After she wins the case, I help her get a job as a janitor at my law firm. A few days later, she becomes pregnant and disappears. I assume she has found a family. However, she returns with a baby and accuses me of raping her. Then, she demands I compensate her. I believe she is just spouting nonsense. But the paternity test comes, and it states that I am the baby's biological father. From that moment on, I become a pariah. I am labeled a disgrace and treated as the scum of the Earth. My girlfriend breaks up with me. Meanwhile, my parents can't bear the shame and commit suicide. Then, a self-righteous fool pushes me off an 18-story building. Even as I die, I still can't understand how she became pregnant with my child. Using her identity as the baby's mother, she inherits all of my assets upon my and my parents' deaths. She then goes on to live the life of a wealthy socialite. When I open my eyes, I am back at the moment I see her getting beaten by her brother.

At graduation, I invited my classmates to attend my engagement party, but what I didn’t expect was the total meltdown one of my classmates had when she saw my engagement photos. She strutted over, full of herself, and demanded that I take off my dress so she could use it to polish her shoes. I blinked in confusion, thinking she must have lost her mind. I laughed and suggested she head over to the campus clinic to get checked out. Instead, she exploded, pointing a finger right in my face as she started yelling. “You leech! How dare you wear something so expensive?” she screamed. “You’ve been spending all of my boyfriend’s money on your filthy clothes! Have you no shame? Get down on your knees and apologize, or I guarantee you'll regret it. Who knows where you'll end up tomorrow? Maybe in the hands of some trafficker?” I couldn’t help but laugh. Who would’ve thought that my fiancé, whose tuition fees I paid for, had the nerve to keep a secret mistress behind my back?

After my son finished his final exams, I ordered him a limited-edition supercar as a gift. But not long afterward, I came across a video of him riding an electric scooter and delivering takeout orders. I was deeply moved. I thought he was trying to learn how difficult life could be. Just as I was about to tell him not to overwork himself, I stumbled upon a post from a struggling student my wife was sponsoring. "Thank you for the gift. I'll work even harder from now on." Cyrus Young looked nothing like his usual modest self. He was dressed in a custom-tailored suit, wearing handmade leather shoes and a luxury dive watch as he posed beside my wife for a photo. And parked behind them was the limited-edition supercar I had carefully picked out for my son. A surge of anger rose in my chest. Unable to hold it back any longer, I called my wife. "Olivia Quinn, if this is the best you can do as my wife, then we're done. I'll find someone better."

On our wedding night, Timothy Soloman tossed a pack of contraceptive pills at me once it was over. "Amanda, you can't get pregnant." My brows knitted together. "But there's nothing wrong with my body." He shook his head. "That's not why. "I have a son. He's already five. I married you, but I also promised her there wouldn't be a second child." I felt like I'd been dropped into an ice cellar, my whole body shaking without end. "Who is she? Why are you telling me this only now?" I asked. "The girl you used to sponsor, the one who couldn't afford her tuition. She's been clinging to me, and I can't shake her loose. "But don't worry. You're the only one in my heart. You will always be my lawfully wedded wife; no one else." The marks Timothy had left on my body were still there. I looked down at the glaring red streaks across my skin, and I almost wanted to laugh at how absurd it all was. "Timothy," I said. "Let's get a divorce."

I was a sucker for pretty faces. The only reason I agreed to date Isabelle was because she was passable-looking as partner material. It had only been a few days since junior year started when my roommate came over to me and awkwardly said, "Damian, I just spotted your girlfriend getting pretty close to that well-known broke pretty boy by the campus lake." I immediately rolled up my sleeves and rushed toward the lake. From a distance, I saw Isabelle standing very close to a slim young man. But the moment I got a good look at his face, I froze. "Damn! This guy was insanely handsome!" He was so good-looking that even I, as another guy, was jealous. Isabelle frowned and stepped in front of me. She said impatiently, "His grandma was rushed to the hospital after a heart attack. I was only trying to comfort him. Don't give him a hard time for no reason, okay?" I pulled her aside, then walked over and gave the handsome guy a firm pat on the shoulder. "Bro, if you're in trouble, you can come to me!"

After the semester began, all of my dorm mates wanted a part-time job. To fit in, I said I wanted one too. One by one, my dorm mates found part-time jobs, while I was still lazing around in the dorm. My dorm mate sent me a message. [How are you going to get by without a job?] I remembered a meme I'd seen online and texted back, "A kind middle-aged couple pays my bills, so I don't need a job right now." I didn't think much of it, until I stumbled across a post on social media. [My dorm mate said she wanted to get a part-time job, but all she does is lie around the dorm. When I asked how she could afford not to work, she said a married couple was paying all her bills. Should I report her for misconduct?] I thought it was funny. The comments gave her all kinds of advice. [Report her! What if she takes a scholarship spot from you?] [Exactly, get her expelled!] I still didn't think much of it until my academic advisor, Ethan Davis, showed up at my door. "Chloe, someone reported you for misconduct. They claim you're a sugar baby. Is that true?"