Cerita Pendek Plot Twists & Novel Ruthless Regret

After the fire, my younger brother, Ethan Harper, and I have become comatose. Our own parents choose to deliver us to the rebirth trial. If we pass the trial, we'll regain consciousness and be granted a brand new life. The sensory caps are attached to our heads and soon connected to our brainwaves. Ethan chokes out, "Since Mom and Dad loves you so much, you'll definitely receive their votes, Emma." I turn to look at the judge instead. "After I'm reborn, can I request a new pair of parents? It's fine if the answer is no. My parents will still die, anyway."

In my past life, I toiled away at the Lincoln family and treated my in-laws like they were a king and a queen. I also gave my stepson the best education possible and helped him get into a renowned college. Yet, I later ended up dead on the street. My stepson said, "You're not my mother. You'll never be her!" He breaks my legs, kicks me out of the house, and watches as I starve to death. It's only after my death that I find out he's the illegitimate son of my husband and his true love! When I open my eyes again, I'm back to the day my husband, Simon Lincoln, brings my stepson home.

I'm one of the rare Omega healers in our pack. My soul essence can fix pretty much anything. Alpha Damian promised me: "Give me your soul essence to keep Isolde's soul steady, and I'll mark you. You'll be my mate, my one and only Luna." However, he drained my soul essence for three solid years, all for Isolde, his childhood sweetheart who pretend to have this soul-fading sickness. Until I got pregnant. And the pack's High Priestess told me my soul flame was about to go out. To save my baby, I secretly cut off the essence supply. Damian found it out. He slammed me against a rock wall. "How dare you to pregnant?! Your soul essence is for Isolde! That’s the only reason you’re even here!" When Isolde found out I was carrying the Alpha's pup, her "sickness" got way worse. She even faked falling into an icy river, making it look like her soul was about to shatter. Damian even dragged my ten-year-old brother, Liam, to the Moon Goddess altar, trying to suck out what little soul essence he had. Just because Liam's soul essence was like mine, but purer. And when I wanted to get rid of the baby to save myself, he locked me in a deep cave in the wolf keep, ordered the High Priestess: "Keep her soul stable. Cut the puppy out. I want her to watch everything she cares about turn to dust." My soul stone was smashed to pieces. When I woke up again, I was back on the day the High Priestess told me I had a pup in my belly. This time, I touched my flat stomach and whispered, " I want to abort this child." " This time, I won't let Damien bully me anymore."

My husband has azoospermia. After trying all the options available, I finally conceived. However, my husband is worried my child will hurt his first love's feelings—she had a miscarriage. He tricks me into going for a prenatal checkup. In truth, he conspires with a doctor to induce labor when I'm only five months along. He says, "You must be the one with the problem. Why else is it so hard for us to have children? The baby won't be healthy even if it's born! We can have more children when you're healthier. Julie has just had a miscarriage; I don't want to aggravate her." He doesn't know he has azoospermia. I only managed to conceive this child after trying out IVF countless times and taking countless folk remedies. He will never have a child of his own in this lifetime, and I discover his true colors. I ask for a divorce, and that's when he loses his mind.

Lenora Bennet is my first love. After we start dating, she's been nothing but caring toward me. But on the day of our wedding, my older brother, Gideon Sloane, calls her on the phone and tells her that he's sick and hospitalized. Lenora doesn't hesitate to ditch me at the altar. My mom wants me to be the bigger man and let Lenora take care of the ill Gideon. Meanwhile, my older sister, Hillary Sloane, chastises me for being selfish. She thinks I never let Gideon have his way. I don't understand at all. Gideon is the one who's stolen my life from me, but why is it that my family wants me to be gracious toward him? But after that, I've graciously decided that I don't want them in my life anymore. Surprisingly enough, they keep begging for my forgiveness.

My parents made Dana and me settle it with rock-paper-scissors. Loser had to marry the Baillieu heir—the so-called "freak." I won. Then flipped the script. "Cool. I'll take Blake. Dana can have the empire." Last time? I was dumb in love with Michael—Dad's adopted golden boy. Chose the company, stayed behind, and handed Dana off to Blake Baillieu. Big mistake. Six months in, Dana was gone—wrecked by that marriage. Right before she croaked, she texted Michael blaming me. Said I lost the game and ditched the deal, dumping Blake on her. Michael? Snapped. Dude went full psycho. Turns out, he and Dana had been sneaking around for years. He dragged me behind the Baillieu estate and forced a dozen intellectually disabled men to assault me. "If it weren't for your cruelty, Dana would still be alive! You'll pay for everything she suffered!" I was over eight months pregnant—almost due. Begged him to stop. Begged for my baby's life. He didn't care. Kept ordering them to take turns. Even when my water broke, he just watched. Both my baby and I died that night. Now? I'm back. And this time, I rewrote the story. Step one: marry Blake.

My mom often makes an example out of someone when it comes to parenting. Unfortunately, I'm that someone, while my little brother, Raymond Nelson, benefits from it. Ever since I was four years old, my mom had been using this method. If Raymond breaks a bowl, I'm the one kneeling on the floor to pick up the pieces. If Raymond destroys something belonging to someone else, I'm the one writing the reflection report on his behalf. Mom tells me, "You're the older sister here. Since you can't keep your brother in line, you're the one at fault." But Raymond can never get rid of his bad habit of stealing and lying. When Franklin Harris, the owner of a grocery store, comes knocking on our door, Raymond points at me once again. "She was the one who stole your money!" In order to help Raymond get rid of this problematic habit of his, Mom decides to hand me over to the owner. "Sorry, Franklin. It's my fault for not raising my child well. I'll give my daughter to you. You can do whatever you want to her, be it scolding her or beating her up." Little does she know that I will never go home after Mr. Harris takes me away.

She used to be nothing but a bar girl. At a time where anyone could boss her around and take advantage of her, Bennett Spencer spent a fortune to make her his kept woman. Now, however, she's become the Jensen family's heiress and is engaged to the scion of the Gibson family. She's one step away from becoming the lady of an affluent family. The night before her wedding, Bennett shows up and has his way with her in every corner of her home, forcing her to remember the passion and lust they shared in the past. "I'm the only one who can make you do away with your chastity." His words make her descend into the throes of passion again.

Five years after marrying Blake Sullivan, I make a dumb move. I chase his favorite lover out of the country in hopes that he'll come back to me. He doesn't say anything after finding out. Instead, he makes my family go bankrupt and forces my father to his knees before him. My mother's hair goes gray overnight. Now, he stands before me. It's my turn to suffer his wrath. "It's my fault for treating you too well, Karen. It made you cross the line. It's time for you to experience what hell on earth is like."

My father died of esophageal cancer. For the final two years of his life, he could barely swallow anything. By the time he passed, he was nothing but skin and bones. The first New Year after his death, he came to my mother in a dream. "I'm starving," he said. "I just want to taste the thick-cut steak you used to make." My mother believed it without question. That very day, she pan-seared a large platter of steak and carried it to his grave. The next morning, she suffered a sudden heart attack and died on the spot. Devastated, I handled my mother's funeral together with my husband. That same night, my husband dreamed of my father as well. "Chester," he said, "I haven't eaten in so long. I want your pâté, served with some strong liquor." When my husband woke up, he bought the finest liver pâté, opened a bottle of single-malt whiskey, and went straight to the grave. However, not long after returning home, he collapsed from acute liver failure. He was rushed to the ICU and died three days later. I was on the brink of collapse myself. I left my daughter in the care of a close friend while I tried to handle the endless wave of tragedy. That evening, my daughter never came home from school. I searched everywhere, and finally, on the road to the cemetery, I found her. She was clutching a bowl of spicy stew, several grilled sausages floating in the broth. "Mom," she said, "Grandpa and I used to eat this all the time. I dreamed he said he was hungry." I finally lost it. I knocked the bowl from her hands and carried her home. That night, my father appeared in my dream once more. "I suffered so much while alive," he said. "Have some pity on me. "New Year's is coming. I want to come home for a meal. Make sure you cook fish." I woke in terror. Holding my daughter, I sat before the three framed portraits for two full days without eating or drinking. On New Year's morning, I realized she was no longer breathing. Clutched tightly in her hand was a packet of spicy dried salmon. I could not believe it. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my mother, her eyes red with worry, said she was going out to buy steak.

My nephew, Jason, came to live with my family for three years while he went to high school in the city. I took care of him the best I could, never once thinking it was a burden. The day he got accepted into a top-ranked university, he went live online. He told thousands of strangers about his miserable life living under someone else's roof. "I know I shouldn't say this, but I really suffered through it. "Those days of depending on others… I never want to think about them ever again. "I just want all parents to know this. No matter how poor you are, keep your kids with you. Even eating scraps together is better than watching another family of three enjoy a feast while you sit alone in the corner." He became an overnight sensation, so did I. The people on the internet dug up everything about me. My name, my job, my address. I was doxxed. I died depressed from the online bullying. However, I somehow got to do it all over again. This time, I was not going to be the saint anymore.

My wife went viral by copying someone else. After some netizens shamed her looks, she became obsessed with plastic surgery. Eventually, an illegal clinic tricked her into spending thirty thousand dollars, claiming they could make her into a celebrity. She even forced me to fund her dream by feeding our daughter pesticides. However, I knew that the clinic used implants from stolen corpses. Before long, her face would start to rot. I spent ages convincing her to choose a professional cosmetic hospital instead, saving her life. Later, though, her best friend became an internet star after undergoing plastic surgery. In comparison, my wife’s appearance had only improved slightly after the cosmetic treatment. In a fit of jealousy, she burned my daughter and me alive. “It’s your fault I couldn’t make it big! You deserve to die!” When I next opened my eyes, I returned to the day my wife asked me for money.

My adopted sister, Jasmine, lost a million dollars in a bad investment scheme. On that fateful day, a disgruntled client showed up before us, furious that his entire life's savings had disappeared overnight and desperate to exact his revenge. When my boyfriend, Connor Sanders, showed up to rescue us, both of us reached a pleading hand to him in fear, but he swatted mine away and snarled, "Rosie, cut the crap! I know you're just faking, and you better stop, or else karma will come back to you! Jasmine has a heart condition, so I'll need to send her to the hospital right away!" Faking it? If only he knew the truth—that the unfortunate daughter born with a congenital heart disease was, in fact, me! On the day of my funeral, my boyfriend Connor wept upon my grave and blinded himself out of remorse. From that day onwards, Connor "Hawk-Eye" Sanders would live in eternal darkness.

On my 18th birthday, my stepmother, Sheila Coleman, teams up with her secret lover, William Lynch, to kill me in cold blood. After that, she carves my femur into a bone sculpture and presents it to my dad as a gift. Dad loves the sculpture to no end. Thanks to Sheila slandering me in the past, he doesn't give a damn about me at all, even after finding out that I've gone missing. In fact, he even declares that he wants to cut off all ties with me. "Don't bring that brat up in front of me from now on! I hope that she dies out there!" But when he finds out that I'm really dead, he goes crazy from remorse.

The day I found out I was dying, I ran into my ex-husband—yeah, the richest guy in the country—and his three-months-pregnant wife. He asked if I regretted leaving him when he got sick. I just asked for twenty grand. He told me I didn't deserve to live. What he never knew? Back then, when he was fighting leukemia, the only bone marrow match he had... was me.

My wife doesn't love me. She doesn't love our child either. On the day our son is born, she doesn't even look at him. She just drops him into my arms. Later, her first love returns. For the first time, the cold, distant woman drinks herself drunk at home. She laughs as she holds our son in her arms, and he wraps his arms around her neck in surprise. "Daddy, what's wrong with Ms. Sutton?" he whispers afterward. I kneel and hold him close. My eyes are red as I explain, "Someone Ms. Sutton loves has come back. We shouldn't bother her anymore. It's time for us to move out."

My mother is a mission runner, and I'm the mess she left behind. When she completed her mission to win Dad over, she disappeared without hesitation and dumped the rest of the mission on me. According to the system, my task is simple. All I need is for Dad to wish me a "happy birthday" when I turn eight. Yet, my birthday is only a month away, and he won't even come home. Ever since Mom vanished without a trace, Dad started looking at me differently. No matter what I do, he assumes it's another trick she planned before she left. When I'm running a high fever, I call him, only to discover that he's at another woman's birthday party. The call connects, and before I can say a word, laughter and cheering pour through the phone. "Dad, I feel awful," I croak. "My birthday's next week…" The other end of the line went silent for a few seconds before his cold voice cuts in. "Penelope, if you need money, just ask my assistant, Henry. You know I hate it when people fake being sick to get what they want, especially when they're only after a birthday present."

After the plane crash, my body was never recovered. My soul drifted back to the home I hadn't stepped foot in for five years. They didn't know I was dead. They were still waiting for me to come home for Christmas. When my mom got the call from the airline, she froze for a long time, completely at a loss, before breaking down in tears. I followed them as they went to the memorial crash site. That was when I noticed something strange—I could see their levels of regret hovering above their heads. My brother's regret level read: 40%. My father's showed: 60%. Even my sister-in-law had 30% over her head. But my mother's regret level? It flashed a cold, unchanging 0%.

She'd loved him for four years. But just before their wedding, she was forced to pretend she'd betrayed him, leaving him no choice but to let her go. When he found out she'd cheated on him, he flew into a rage and made her life a living hell. “Summer Blake, you should be grateful I haven't killed you.” It wasn't until much later that he realized just how empty his world had become without her.

Three years ago, to save his lover Vivian’s son, Alpha Alexander personally drained the life essence from our five-year-old daughter. I fought like a cornered animal to stop him, but Vivian’s rogue wolves broke my legs, carved away my Luna tattoo, and left me for dead in the pack’s Forbidden Zone. Three years later, the boy, Oliver, suffered a relapse of his Bloodline Decay. Only then did Alexander remember we ever existed. He cast a net far and wide, determined to drag my daughter and me back to serve as a living battery for Oliver. But this time, he was in for a bitter disappointment. Because my daughter, Mia, and I were already dead.