Maikling mga Kwento & mga Nobela

My son is dead. He dies in a cramped toilet cubicle after having his skull smashed in. My husband, the school principal, arrives on the scene. The first thing he does is carry his true love's son, the one who killed my son, into an ambulance. They hurriedly leave. Before his death, my son tells me, "Don't cry, Mom. I'm not sad that Dad doesn't believe me. It's enough that you do…" I call Joshua Tucker during my son's funeral. He roars angrily, "Kenny had to get two stitches on his arm because of your son! If you keep pestering me like this, I'll beat him up when I get home!" My son? I look at the gaping hole in my son's head, the one that won't ever bleed anymore. I shut my eyes. Yes, he's my son. My son is dead, Joshua. From now on, there's nothing between us.

Three days after I died, my fiancé got a call to ID the body. He just scoffed. "She's dead, so what? Call me when she's in the ground." The cops, out of options, hit up my backup contact—my childhood friend. He actually laughed. "She's really gone? Not my problem. Burn her or whatever." Then my body hit the internet— And suddenly, both of them looked like ghosts.

After failing to win the hearts of the first three targets, I decide to get engaged to Natalia Stone, the paralyzed heiress of the Stone family. Soon, I use all of my points just to swap for Natalia's ability to stand up once again. But the first thing Natalie does after recovering from her paralysis is to cancel the engagement with me. After that, she gives Irving Schmidt the grandest and most eye-catching wedding that will take place on the cruise. At the wedding venue, all four of my targets stare at Irving with love and adoration in their eyes. Suddenly, I feel like going home, so I jump into the sea without hesitation. But when my body plunges into the sea, four silhouettes can be seen rushing toward me. Regret and fear are written on their faces.

"Doctor, have you finished the examination? I can't hold on any longer," I say as I lie on the examination table in the college clinic. A screen completely blocks my view. The examination instrument pokes a few inches deeper into me. I try my best to suppress it, but a whimper escapes me. "No!" The doctor remains silent and merely adjusts the machine so that my legs are lifted higher.

My wife, Janice Frost, was an interworld traveler. People like her weren't supposed to form attachments with anyone in another world. But she fell for me the moment she saw me. Every time her feelings stirred, it tore through her, like her soul was being ripped apart. She had endured that pain 99 times. Later, I was abducted and taken to North Kaman. They beat me every day, over and over. Right when I was about to break, I remembered the method Janice once taught me, a way to reach her across worlds. Somehow, I managed to use it. But instead of her voice alone, I heard her speaking with her mentor from the other side. "Janice, how could you contact a resistance group yourself and have them take Samuel? I thought you loved him." Janice's voice was cold and hard. "This ordeal was meant for Tim. I had to do this to save him. Samuel is the main protagonist of this world. He's protected by fate. Nothing will happen to him. Once this mission is done, I can stay in this timeline for good. When that happens, I'll make it up to him." My chest tightened until it felt like it might split open. When those people closed in on me again, I stopped resisting completely.

My boyfriend, Harvey Seinfeld, got diagnosed with cancer and needed a liver transplant. When I found out I was a match, I didn't think twice. Two-thirds of my liver—gone. The pain was brutal. As soon as I came to, I dragged myself to his room. Right before I walked in, I heard him laughing with his friends. "Harvey, you're a genius for coming up with such an epic revenge plan." He snorted. "If I didn't have to keep it low-key, I would've taken a kidney just for fun. "It's her fault Vivi bombed her art exam and had to study abroad. Vivi's coming back next month. That's when I'll be done with her for good."

My husband and I were the two people who hated each other most in this world. He hated me for tearing him away from the woman he loved. And I hated him because that his heart remained occupied by another woman. For eight years of marriage, the words we spoke to each other most often were not love, nor duty, but curses. Yet on the day the city fell, everything changed, the enemy banners were already visible beyond the inner gate. He rode ahead and took the road, putting his body between the enemy and my escape. “Live,” he said quietly. Then he raised his blade and did not look back. Arrows came like rain. As they tore into him, he turned his head once—only once— After that, his body held the road,and nothing passed. “If there is another life…may Your Highness grant me the mercy to belong to her.” That night, with the city in ruins and the people either dead or fleeing, I climbed the highest tower of the palace. I leapt. When I opened my eyes again, I went to the king. “The northern kingdoms require a royal bride,” I said. “I will go.” This lifetime, I will be the one to cross the border. In my previous life, he died believing he had failed her. This time, I will not allow that regret to exist. I will take the marriage meant for her. I will carry the crown meant to exile her. I will walk into a future she should never have to endure. Let her stay. Let him protect her. Let him live his life believing he has finally kept his promise.

I dated Jacob, my Alpha, for five years. Yet on the day of our marking ceremony, he marked another she-wolf behind my back. “Molly is pregnant with my pup, your new heir!” Jacob proudly announced the news. Everyone cheered for them. I stood in the crowd and ignored the challenging look Molly gave me. When the ceremony was about to end, I turned around numbly. I knew that I was unnecessary here, so I went back to the house I shared with Jacob and packed up to leave. I had joined Jacob’s pack because I loved him. Since he no longer felt the same, it was time for me to leave.

What was even more humiliating than discovering her fiancé’s affair was hearing him claim he’d lost interest in her, and that he had gotten another woman pregnant. In the world of adults, it’s never about right or wrong—only about leverage. Heather Jenner couldn’t afford to lose the status she was so close to achieving as a wealthy wife. Let him have his fun, she thought. If he could stray, why shouldn’t she find another man to father her child? And so, she set her sights on his younger brother—the one who outshone him in every way.

Before my wedding, my vision which I lost after saving Bruce unexpectedly returned. Overjoyed, I hurried to share the wonderful news with him, but as I stepped into the living room, I froze. Bruce and my cousin, Kerry, were in a passionate embrace. "Bruce, the baby is perfectly healthy now. The doctor said we can sleep together again! Why don't we do it right here in the living room? Also, isn't it thrilling to do it here while Nancy is asleep in her room?" "Shut up! Don't joke about my wife like that!" Bruce snapped at her, but his reprimand was accompanied by a kiss. I stood there, watching in shock as their movements grew more intense and their breathing became heavier. Only then did I piece it all together. Their sudden shared enthusiasm for indoor workouts six months ago wasn't about fitness at all. Covering my mouth to stifle a sob, I turned back to my room and shut the door. I decided then and there: Bruce didn't need to know I had recovered. Reaching for my phone, I dialed my mother. "Mom, I'm not marrying Bruce anymore. I'll marry the comatose heir of the Blakes instead. I don't need Bruce in my life."

I’d been in love with Cassian Cross—my brother’s best friend, the one and only mafia boss in the NYC—for as long as I could remember. On the night of my twentieth birthday, my brother promised me a surprise. I didn’t expect that surprise to be a very drunk, very kissable Cassian. One reckless night. One baby boy. Cassian agreed to marry me after giving birth. But the day I gave birth to Leo, Cassian said nothing. He just packed up and vanished to France for nearly five years. Then he returned with Alessia. His first love. And when she saw Leo and me, she ran away and disappeared. After that, Cassian never left my side. Like he was trying to be the man I needed all along, that we were finally going to have our chance. But fairytales are lies wrapped in pretty paper. On Leo’s sixth birthday, we were driving to dinner. The brakes failed. The car spun onto the highway, flames licking at the engine. Cassian got out. And then he locked the door. “If it weren’t for you, Alessia would still be by my side. Now? It’s your turn to suffer.” It wasn’t until that moment I understood—Cassian had never loved me. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at my twenties birthday. Cassian was in my bed, exactly where I’d left him in the past. This time, I didn’t hesitate. I ran. And on my way out, I made the call I should’ve made the first time. To Alessia.

I’m about to enter a blood bond with another vampire lord. But my partner of a century, Kaelan, has no idea. He’s too busy getting cozy with his new human assistant, Sylvia. They spend entire nights in his office, under the guise of “researching synthetic blood.” He even turned our centennial anniversary into her birthday party. In front of everyone, Kaelan presented her with a Black Forest cake decorated with Silver Bells. They laughed, smearing frosting on each other. They forgot the flowers are a deadly poison to me. My power shattered. Agony ripped through me as shadows lashed out, uncontrollable. My family’s guards had to drag my convulsing body away. And while I recovered alone in the cold, dark vault, Kaelan was still at the party, bathing in the cheers for him and Sylvia. The blood in my veins turned to ice. A century of love and hope burned to ash. In that moment, I agreed to my family's arrangement. Without hesitation. A union with the lord of the Obsidian Throne—a vampire they say is power incarnate.

My mate Ryan's first love Sarah Blackwood and I both had eight-year-old sons. Sarah's boy killed an innocent wolf. Instead of facing pack law, my mate asked our child to take the blame for Sarah's son. "Marcus will only serve five years in Silver Prison," Ryan growled at me. "Sarah and Jamie have no protection – exile will kill them both! Our son is strong enough to survive this!" While he rushed them abroad for a vacation to escape justice, his parents' guards dragged our innocent pup to prison. By the time Ryan returned, I disappeared.

On the fateful day my asthma struck, Lucas was with his first love, Ariana, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing on the horizon.  He clutched my life-saving medicine, a lifeline that would soon slip through his fingers.  As I lay trapped in the shadows, I witnessed his desperation, his frantic calls echoing in the void when he discovered the shocking news of my pregnancy.  In that moment, everything changed. From that day forward, he became the guardian at my grave, a silent testament to a love that transcended even death.

"Are you sure you want to change your name, Ms. Anderson? You'll have to change your degree certificate, documentation, and passport once you do." Noelle Anderson nods. "I'm sure." The employee tries to talk her out of it. "It's quite troublesome for adults to change their names, and your current name sounds nice. Are you sure you don't want to think about it?" "No, I'm done thinking." She signs the form. "Sorry for the trouble and thanks." "Alright, then. The name you're changing to is… Aria Byrd, right?" "Yeah." Aria Byrd—it means a flight to freedom.

The night I died, my whole family was busy celebrating my twin sister Elena's eighteenth birthday. Everyone thought Elena was going to die the next day. We're elves. My father worked as a clan guardian, and after Mom gave birth to Elena and me as twins, she stopped working altogether. We should have been a happy family. But from the moment we were born, Elena and I were bound by a witch's curse. Because Elena came into the world one minute before me, she took the full weight of it onto herself. She was never supposed to live past eighteen. From the day we were born, Elena was the family's treasure. Mom and Dad treated me like I owed her something. New toys went to her first. New dresses were always her pick. Every night, Mom would sit in Elena's room for at least an hour before she'd turn off the light. I always fell asleep alone. One night I had a nightmare and ran barefoot to find Mom. She was holding Elena and didn't even look up. "Go back to bed. Stop making a fuss." I kept telling myself: she's dying, of course they're kind to her. But every time I let something go, that splinter in my chest pushed a little deeper. Then the day the curse was supposed to take effect finally came, and naturally, that was the day my stomach cramped so badly I could barely stand. Mom and Dad didn't hesitate. They shoved me into the cellar and locked it from outside. I crouched on the stone floor with the smell of mildew everywhere and knocked on the door over and over. "Mom... Dad... my stomach really hurts, I can't even stand up... let me out, please..." One sentence came back through the door. "Your sister is dying tonight! Can you just give us one day? One day!" "But... Mom... I'm scared..." Nobody answered after that. The cellar went quiet. My eyelids grew heavy. My last thought was: if I were the one dying of a curse, would they come hold me too.

My husband threw me into the crocodile pit to help his childhood sweetheart, who was a KOL, gain popularity. To make the live stream more realistic, he personally tossed bait at me. “Have you not eaten? My grandma can run faster than you!” He watched as I bled from my abdomen, believing I was just pretending to be pitiful. When I asked for a divorce, he kicked me to the ground. “Since you love pretending to be pitiful to ask for a divorce, why didn’t you just let the crocodile kill you?” I handed him a medical report. “My child died because of you. Does this count as pretending to be pitiful?”

Someone posted a love confession to me on the college's confession wall. But then my roommate's boyfriend left a comment claiming I had slept with every guy on campus. I was furious and ready to call the police. My roommate begged me to forgive her boyfriend, promising she'd make him apologize publicly on the confession wall. But before that apology ever came, an adult video started circulating in the student group chats. Everyone was saying I was the girl in the video. The college summoned me for a meeting and suggested I take a leave of absence. When I went home, my parents refused to acknowledge me as their daughter. I lost everything. Depression consumed me, and with the endless rumors, I finally gave in to despair and ended my life. When I opened my eyes again, it was the day my name first appeared on the confession wall.

My sister had struggled with depression since childhood. The doctor warned that she could not tolerate any kind of stimulation. As a result, my entire life fell silent. To avoid upsetting her, I never dared to laugh at home. I never dared to cry. When I got hurt, I did not even have the right to say it hurt. My parents would hug me with apologetic expressions and say, "You're the good one. Your sister's illness requires the whole family to work together. You're healthy. You're strong. Let her have more, okay?" One day, I accidentally knocked over a cup. The crash sounded enormous in the quiet room, and my sister's emotions shattered at once. My father struck me for the first time. He roared, "Can't you be careful? Do you have to push her until she dies before you're satisfied?" He shoved me to the floor. The back of my head slammed against the corner of the table, and blood poured out. But my whole family rushed to my screaming sister. No one even glanced at me. I lay on the cold floor as my vision blurred and my consciousness began to fade. To them, my sister's feelings were the only emergency. My small injury could wait. They did not know that bleeding inside the skull does not wait.

Everyone loved my older sister. When the novel I wrote shot to popularity, she got jealous and suddenly proclaimed that she wanted to be a popular author too. My older brother, who was the editor-in-chief, immediately announced that I plagiarized my sister's story at my book signing and she ended up becoming the genius author while I got cyberbullied so much that I was too scared to leave the house. After I got married to a young heir from high society and lived a happy life, my sister told me that she had a crush on him for years and wanted to be his bride at least once in her lifetime. He did not even think twice about divorcing me and holding the wedding of the century with my sister. My family was afraid that I would sabotage their relationship, so they made me leave the country. However, my sister did not think that I was miserable enough. She came for me outside the country and pushed me down the stairs. I was lying in a pool of blood when my mother rebuked me, "Did you say something that made your sister unhappy again?" That was how I died in despair. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day my brother accused me of plagiarism.