Cerita Pendek & Novel Familial Bond Regret

When I was eight, I got into an argument with my sister Freya. She pointed at me and snapped, “You’re not even their real daughter. They got you from an orphanage.” I went crying to our parents. They held her close and nodded. “It’s true. You clung to our legs and begged us to take you home.” After that, I stopped competing with Freya for their attention or asking for presents. I did all the chores and even took the blame when Freya broke things, scared they’d send me back if I wasn’t good enough. For fifteen years, I lived with that fear. This month, I came home early for the Moonlight Festival. Outside the front door, I heard Freya laughing with our relatives. “Tessa will believe anything. I told her she was adopted during a fight when we were kids. She still believes it.” “She’s done everything around the house ever since. Saved us hiring a maid.” One of our relatives sounded shocked. “You never told her the truth?” Mom laughed. “Why would we? She hasn’t given us a moment’s trouble since.” “Fifteen years of good behavior, all from one little joke. I’d call that a bargain.” My chest tightened. I could barely breathe. I’d spent fifteen years afraid of losing my home, all because of a joke. I didn’t go inside and demand answers. I took out my phone and signed the agreement for a fifteen-year assignment with the Silver Moon Pack in the north. But after I left, my parents went mad with regret.  

My father loved silence. He believed noise was the mark of lesser people, so he installed a decibel meter in our home. Speaking above 40 decibels meant that we would have to pay him 10 dollars, laughing above 60 decibels meant 50 dollars, and crying or throwing a tantrum was a serious offense at 100 dollars per second. The year I turned four, I fell and broke my arm. I did not make a single sound. I bit down so hard that I cracked two teeth, but I saved thousands in noise fees. He praised me for it and called me a "high-value child," one that was worth the investment. I treasured that compliment and observed the rules carefully, keeping the house wrapped in suffocating silence. Then came the stormy night a thief broke in. He had a knife and was creeping toward my mother as she slept, and I watched it all from the gap in the wardrobe where I was hiding. I wanted to scream. I wanted to shriek and wake my father, to do something, anything. However, my eyes drifted to the decibel meter on the wall, and my hand found nothing but an empty pocket. I did not have enough allowance. One scream would cost hundreds, and I simply could not afford it.

The day our SAT scores are released, my girlfriend, Alexis Jink, and I are on a train heading back home after a graduation trip. Samuel Yonder, my "younger brother" in name only, is also with us. Samuel loves sitting by the window, and Alexis immediately sits beside him, leaving me the odd one out—just like I have been for this entire trip. "Ethan, Samuel and I need to discuss what we'll be picking for our majors. Since you didn't score very high on the mock exam, just busy yourself with your phone while we talk," Alexis says. As the two chat and laugh happily, I find myself unable to join in at all. This is certainly not what I expected when Alexis promised me a graduation trip three years ago. The test scores are announced at ten on the dot. Samuel throws his arms around Alexis in an excited and joyful hug. "This is great! With our scores, we can pick any major we want at Jocaster University!" Alexis answers with a smile, "Quick, look at the group chat. Our parents are all congratulating us." From my seat behind them, I hear Dad and Mom say in a voice message, "Sam and Alexis, you two did wonderfully! We really are so proud of you!" Another voice message rings out, this time from Alexis' parents. Bowing my head, I check my phone, only to realize that I'm not in the same group as them, nor did anyone bother to ask how I fared. Forget it. Since they have already chosen their paths, then I should also focus on heading toward my own future.

After my family and I are dragged into a roguelike horror simulation, they favor my cousin, Julian Clark, over me. In a lobby of blood-soaked players, he always manages to stay spotless, earning their praise as someone who has "kept his humanity". He's unlike me, the brute who willingly throws himself into melee combat and hacks down monsters just to keep everyone else alive. During one dungeon run, a terrifying entity targets my younger sister, Millie Larsson. I draw my blade and move in for the kill, but Julian stops me with a sorrowful smile. "Every creature has a soul. Gabriel, if you kill it, you'll only enrage it and burden Millie with the sin of bloodshed." Millie believes all the nonsense he says and begins resenting me for interfering. Later, when a veteran player steals Julian's life-saving loot drop, I nearly die reclaiming it for him. Instead of thanking me, he takes pity on the woman robbing him and hands the item back to her. He condemns me for being too ruthless, claiming I know nothing about showing mercy to women. Then comes the advanced raid. Cornered by the final boss, I beg Julian to activate the high-tier talisman I've given him, buying me just one second to escape. He recoils from my bloodstained hand in disgust and turns to my parents instead. "Gabriel provoked the boss himself. He's too violent. I can't risk wiping the whole party just to save him." In the end, I die in the boss' jaws. Julian steps over my shattered bones and blood to clear the raid, eventually becoming the server's most celebrated player for being the Untainted Saint. But fate grants me a second chance. I awaken once more in the game's central lobby, right before everything begins. This time, I want to see how long their precious humanity lasts in a world overrun by horrors when the blood-soaked blade that always carries their party is no longer there to protect them.

My mother, Sophie Nash, was also my homeroom teacher, and she loved nothing more than using me to assert her authority. She was convinced that the worse off I was, the more afraid my classmates would be, and the higher her authority would be. Once, when I passed an eraser to a classmate during class, she slapped me so hard across the face in front of the whole class that my face swelled up. Another time, after I secretly ate a crumb of a classmate’s snack during recess, my mom dragged me up to the front of the classroom and pricked my lip with a needle until blood gushed out. Later, when a classmate was caught by the vice principal for having a romantic relationship while underaged, my mom flat-out claimed it was me. Without a word of explanation, she dragged me into the hallway and stripped me naked. She then went to the vice principal’s office while laughing along. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Lennon. It’s my fault for not raising Stella Nash properly. Rest assured, I’ll make sure to punish her severely this time!” The vice principal had furrowed his brow. “What do you mean by Stella Nash? This isn’t the student involved in the early romance.” Sophie paused for a moment. Then, she said nonchalantly, “Oh, never mind. Let’s just make an example of her. “Stella gets into trouble all the time anyway. She can handle one more punishment.” She did not know that every time she struck me, I secretly deducted one point in my mind. Just a moment ago, I had already accumulated 100 points. Without hesitation, I leaped out the window of the sixth-floor hallway. ‘Mom, is asserting authority through death enough?’ I thought.

My mother served the Moon Goddess. Before she returned to her realm, she left me with the four most powerful Alphas on the continent. The first was the Supreme Alpha. He ruled the entire Northern Alliance. The second was the Head of Intelligence. He controlled our secrets and shadows. The third was the Lead Healer. He could snatch a dying wolf from the jaws of death. And the fourth was the General of our armies. For sixteen years, they treated me—their only adopted daughter—like a treasure. Until three years ago. That’s when Bianca came back. The daughter of their childhood sweetheart they thought they’d lost. From that day on, my four fathers chose to believe her every word. Bianca sobbed that I had poisoned her dessert with belladonna leaves. As punishment, my fathers forced me to choke down a bowl of the toxic leaves in front of the entire pack and beg for her forgiveness. She also claimed I deliberately attacked her during my full moon shifts. My fathers' response? Every full moon, they shackled my hands and feet to keep me from shifting. Then, Bianca said I used my status as a princess to humiliate her. She said I forced her to kneel before me. My furious fathers threw me into the Silver Dungeon. They left me there for three whole days. As I lay dying, ravaged by starvation and silver poisoning, I heard a voice. It was my mother's wolf, Nyx. “My child,” she whispered. “Do you want to come home to your mother?”

I am the Oracle, the High Priestess who connects the divine realm to the mortal world. My daughter, however, was born with only a trace of divine power, leaving her little different from an ordinary human. I brought four orphans back from the beastman world and raised them myself. I gave them only one condition: protect my daughter from harm. For years, her four brothers shielded her, leaving her free to be as willful as she liked. Then, on the day of her coming-of-age rite, her prayer reached me. "Mother, my brothers are going to sacrifice me so Daisy can receive the Goddess's protection." By the time I got there, my daughter was bound to the altar. My four sons were busy preparing the altar. Daisy preened at their side. I was about to begin the chant that would punish them. Christopher, the serpent, pulled Daisy close and wrapped a protective arm around her. Gardner, the polar bear, talked back to me for the first time. "Mother, our little sister hurt Daisy first. "We only meant to frighten her. "The rite only takes away her ability to speak with the Goddess. She is useless anyway. She may as well be ordinary." I looked at the ingrates I had personally raised and scoffed. They had forgotten something. Every skill, every power, every title they held had come from me. I had made them. I could unmake them just as easily.

On my very first day studying abroad, my mom brought her real son back home. Within two years, he had won over every single person in the family. By the time I came back, she tossed a signed disownment agreement in my face. "To be honest, I've always thought you were pretty selfish. All you care about is money. You refuse to hand over control of the company, and you never show any real concern for us as parents. Thank God my real son isn't that cold-blooded. So do the right thing—hand over your shares and walk away from this family on your own." She stood there waiting for me to break down, to beg her to let me stay. But I just let out a quiet sigh and pulled out a DNA test linking me to my grandfather—her father. "Mom, I'm not your biological son—that much is true. But I am the biological grandson of the man who actually runs the Harrison family. The one who should be leaving the Harrison family isn't me—it's you."

Just after I finish a meeting, the parents' group chat for my daughter's kindergarten suddenly buzzes with activity. Someone shares a viral post. The poster writes, "A daughter is always her daddy's sweetheart. She's already using her allowance to buy her dad a birthday present! I wonder who my gentle, wealthy little princess will marry someday." The one who shares the post adds excitedly in the comments, "She's the one and only successor to the Webb family in Jemton! She's a true heiress!" The parents in the group chat eagerly offer their sycophantic compliments. They can hardly wait to offer their own sons as potential suitors for the little girl. But I'm puzzled. Other than my wife, Lucy Webb, I don't think there is any other family with the surname Webb in Jemton. Then, I open the photo attached to the post and instantly freeze. The sweet little girl smiling as she holds the gift is unmistakably my daughter, Emilia Webb, whom I personally drive to and from kindergarten every single day.

On the day of the family's "Legacy Day," Dad announced he was giving us necklaces blessed by our ancestors. Everyone got one. Everyone except me. My older brother Leon received an obsidian necklace. Even the old butler who'd served our household for twenty years got a protective charm to calm his mind. The most beautiful one—a moonstone wrapped in rare runes, glowing with soft holy light—was gently placed around Mia's neck by our father. Mia is my little sister. She's been a rare white wolf since birth, but she's always been frail. She accepted it with delight. I stood at the very edge, running on no sleep after just returning from border patrol. I stepped forward and instinctively reached out my hand. But my Dad didn't even look at me. Click. The velvet box snapped shut in front of everyone. That sharp sound of the lid closing jolted me fully awake. Father dusted off his hands. "Yours isn't urgent. We'll talk about it later." My eyes stung. I walked over to Mother, who stood to the side. "Mom, what about me? Why does even the butler get one, but not me?" Mother just told me to wait a little longer. Just then, Mia coughed from the cold wind. My future mate, Garrett Whitfield, immediately took off his coat and wrapped it around her, escorting her all the way into the warm room. I stood alone in the biting wind, pulled out my phone, and replied to a warrior invitation message from the Silver Creek pack next door—one that had been sitting there for a week.

Two years ago, my older sister Jaslyn and I were trapped in a housefire. The firefighters told Mom she had to make a choice. They could only save one of us. Mom chose me because I was closer to the door. Later, when she learned that the fire had been caused by us breaking into the neighbor's house to steal stuff, she grabbed me by the hair and yelled at me. "Your sister Jaslyn was a model student. There's no way she would steal anything. "You're the thief! If it weren't for you, she wouldn't have died!" From then on, I wasn't allowed to eat good food or wear nice clothes. Every day, I had to kneel before Jaslyn's portrait and atone for my sins. One day, the class fund went missing at school. Mom was convinced I had stolen it and dragged me away to confess. Terrified, I ran off, only to be hit by a car. As I lay dying, I called Mom and begged her to come save me. She snorted. "Such a liar! You stole Jaslyn's life from her back then. It's your turn to die now!" Later, Jaslyn, who had supposedly been dead for two years, returned and revealed the truth about what had happened back then. Mom broke down. She took Jaslyn from house to house, explaining the truth to every one of my classmates. "Nina is not a thief."

As part of our wedding-day tradition, my family hid me away in a closet. “Follow the tradition, and stay hidden! The wedding kicks off when your husband finds you!” My heart was full of happiness as I waited for him to find me, but suddenly, a fire broke out downstairs. Smoke filled the air. The closet was locked from the outside. I screamed and begged for help, only to hear my older brother shouting from outside. “Get the bridesmaid out first! She has asthma and can’t handle the smoke. My sister’s in a safe zone. She can wait a little longer!” The fire grew more intense by the second. I fought with all my might to break open the closet door. In my rush to save the bridesmaid, I broke one of my legs and collided head-on with my husband. He was a firefighter who had rushed in to rescue us. However, he frowned impatiently and stepped aside, avoiding me without hesitation. Then he scooped up the bridesmaid in his arms. “Stop making a fuss, Tammy! There are so many people watching outside. As captain, if I rescue you first, tomorrow everyone will accuse our family of abusing our authority for personal gain. Wait a little longer. The other team members will be here soon.” Thick smoke poured into my windpipe, scorching my throat. With the last of my strength, I called emergency services. But my mother, who was the director of the emergency dispatch center, decisively switched channels and secured a priority transport route for the bridesmaid. “Tammy, as a family member, you’ve got to be understanding. Don’t hog the priority route. Amelia was so frightened that she had an asthma attack. Her condition is more serious than yours. We can’t let personal feelings or favoritism interfere with our duty. Just wait patiently.” To avoid any suspicion of favoritism, they all considered it perfectly reasonable to put me last. What they didn’t know was that I had already suffered extensive, severe burns. I wouldn't survive.

The ambulance’s siren blared as it sped toward the hospital. But an obnoxious power-walking mob blocked its path at the entrance of our residential area. As a result, the ambulance could not leave the area. I got out of the car to negotiate with that group of power-walkers. I immediately recognized that the woman who led the mob was none other than my mother-in-law, Miranda White. “Miranda, the illness of someone important to me has flared up. He’s in critical condition! “Please get these people to move and let the ambulance pass! Quick!” I was frantic with worry. But Miranda shot me a sideways glance and jumped to conclusions. “He should’ve died a long time ago! “He’s your father. What gives him the nerve to interfere in Caleb’s marital home?! If he’s sick, he deserves it!” Right after she finished her sentence, she waved her arms and called more people over. The number of people joining the power-walking mob continued to increase. They packed the road so tightly that it was completely blocked. When it became clear the ambulance could not possibly leave the area, Miranda shot me a smug glance. She picked up her phone and said in a coy voice, “Honey, what are you doing at home? Come down and join me for a power walk! Getting some exercise is what matters most for your health.” Inside the ambulance, the phone screen next to the patient lit up for a moment, then went dark again. It was not my father who had collapsed.

My boyfriend, Miles, finally invited me to his family’s Christmas dinner. I passed out on the way there. Half-conscious, I heard him whisper, “Sorry, Eva. Those thugs said you’re just their boss’s type. Too pretty for your own good, babe. Blame that—not me.” “Don’t be scared. If you help me pay off the debt… maybe they’ll let me have you back. I’ll make it up to you. For the rest of your life, I swear.” He wheeled me through the back of a casino. My family’s casino. The boss he was selling me to… was my brother. Ever since our parents died in a crossfire, my brother had taken full responsibility for me. More than a brother, he’d become a father figure—a protector. My stupid boyfriend should be scared—he had no idea how fiercely my brother protected me, or how ruthless he could be to anyone who dared hurt me.

I was the real son, finally found and brought back by my billionaire parents, only to be diagnosed with leukemia right after. The only person who matched my bone marrow was the adopted son, Doug Daniel. So my parents rushed to bring him back into the family, making him my donor. To make it up to him, they did everything they could for him. My parents handed over the inheritance. My fiancée, Moira Stevens, hovered around him every day. When the pain got so bad that I could barely stand it, my parents pointed at me and snapped, "Jay! You keep bringing up your illness. Are you really that eager to take away Doug's health?" Moira, a medical school professor, didn't hold back either. "I'm a doctor. You think I don't understand your condition? You act like you're dying every single day. You just can't stand that we're being nice to Doug." On the day of the transplant, I lay on the operating table and waited. But Moira, the one in charge of harvesting Doug's marrow, never came in. I closed my eyes and waited for death. None of them knew I had already signed up to donate my body.

An explosion rocked the hallway of the estate during my engagement party. Smoke filled the air. Guests coughed and stumbled as security guards shouted that we were under attack. There weren't enough protective masks. Only one remained. My younger sister, Valentina, collapsed clutching her chest. She sobbed that her asthma was acting up. I'd barely gotten hold of the mask when my mother dropped to her knees and begged me to hand it over. "A little smoke won't kill you! But if your sister has a serious attack, she could die right here!" My fiancé, Matteo Rinaldi, was the Don of the Rinaldi family. He didn't bother giving me a choice. He ripped the mask out of my hands, pulled it over Valentina's head, and carried her toward the emergency exit. I ran after him and caught his jacket, but he shoved me away hard. "People could die! Stop acting jealous at a time like this!" I lost my footing and fell down the stairs, slamming my stomach against the steps. And then the alarms stopped. The panic vanished. Laughter erupted from the ballroom. Valentina peeled off the mask and held up the tiny camera hidden inside her collar. "Surprise, Elena! It's a pre-wedding loyalty test I planned just for you! We told everyone one of Matteo's enemies had planted a bomb. I wanted to see whether getting married would make you stop caring about your family!" My mother laughed, too, and reached down to pull me up. "Come on, stop lying there. It's all fake. There was never any bomb." I didn't move. I could only stare at the blood spreading beneath me. The attack had been fake. But my baby was really gone.

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.”

When I realized my soulmate Darius was still hung up on his former lover Cassia and her child, I started teaching our son to call him "Lord Darius." That night, Theo accidentally stepped into a thorn trap set by forest nymphs. He was poisoned by a minor curse that sent his magic spiraling out of control and plunged him into darkness. But Darius turned and left because Cassia called him on his messaging crystal late at night. I touched my son's forehead as his divine aura dimmed from the pain, and made him say, "Goodbye, Lord." On Theo's birthday, Darius skipped our celebration because Cassia tearfully complained that her child needed a father. I didn't say much. I just had little Theo explain to the guests, "The Lord has important divine duties to attend to." My boy would always struggle for a long time before forcing those words out. Until Darius finally realized he owed us far too much. He offered to go to the temple and commission an enchanted portrait of our family. But right there inside the Portrait Pavilion, Cassia sent another message through the crystal. "Darius, I am begging you to come to the Divine Academy. Could you just pretend to be Milo's father for a bit? The young gods here are all mocking him for being a bastard..." A flash of guilt crossed Darius's face. He was just about to bend down and explain things to our son. But this time, Theo did not need my prompting. He just waved his hand. "It is okay, Lord Darius. Hurry up and go be with your other child. Just having me and Mom in the portrait is enough."

Ever since I can remember, I was Nina's blood bank. Nina was like a glass princess. One sneeze and she could break. She needed blood all the time just to stay okay. Mom had her tubes untied just to have me to save Nina. My arms were always full of needle marks. Mom and Dad looked at me like they felt bad. "Chloe, you're a good girl. Nina's sick. She doesn't mean it when she gets mad. Be patient with her." I made myself smile. "I know. You can take more. I'm not scared." They turned away and cried. I thought if I stayed good and didn't complain, they'd love me someday. Then I won first place in a painting contest. Nina ripped the bandage off her hand and started crying. "Why are you showing off? Why am I the sick one? I hate you!" Mom shoved me to the ground. "Your sister can't even go to school. What are you bragging about some dumb paper for? How can you be this mean? Why couldn't you be the sick one?" Dad carried Nina out. He didn't look at me. I ran after the car all the way to the hospital. I only heard the doctor say, "Without a full blood replacement, she won't make it three months." I looked at my arm. 'Nina, please don't hate me anymore. If I give you my life, will that be enough?'

The night before the marking ceremony, Joanna Grant kills my father by running him down with her car. At the same time, my fiance, Samuel West, breaks the pack's betrothal agreement and asks to end our engagement. The next day, Samuel and Joanna show up at the marking ceremony that was meant for me. With the entire pack as their witnesses, they pray to the Moon Goddess for her blessing. Just then, I arrive at the ceremony with the surveillance footage from the crash, demanding that Joanna pay with her life for what she's done to my father. Joanna is arrested by the Alliance guards, yet I am exiled from the pack and cast out as a Rogue. Out on my own, hunted and mauled by wild beasts, I am rescued by the Alpha of the Redmoon pack, Alexander Rowe. He saves me when I'm on the brink of death and then proposes to me, pulling me out of hell itself. But after two years of marriage, I overhear a conversation between Alexander and his Beta, Marcus Hale. "Alpha, you forgave Joanna in the Luna's family's name and helped secure her release. If this ever comes to light, the Alliance will arrest you, too." "She'll never know," Alexander says. "Joanna has served a year in prison. That's enough. She deserves the chance to move on and find happiness." So, the marriage I think saves me turns out to be Alexander's carefully planned trap all along. I decide it's time for them to pay the price.