Maikling mga Kwento & mga Nobela

On New Year's Eve, Facebook blew up. The reason was that Bennett Miles, the golden boy of Crestmoor’s elite, posted an update. In the photo, a shy young woman hid her face as she leaned against his shoulder while he grinned. His eyes were full of affection and mischief. His caption read, "What do I do? Looks like I'm officially taken." Friends in his circle flooded the comment section with congratulations. The real frenzy began when Bennett announced that the first 10,000 followers to like, share, and comment on the post would each receive a gold bar. The internet went wild with envy and curiosity. Everyone scrambled to find out more about the woman in the picture. Then, someone claiming to have inside information started a livestream. "Stop guessing. Her name is Kara Sierra. You know Sierra Hall at Crestmoor College? That building was named after her! "Two years ago, she had kidney failure. Bennett personally donated one of his own kidneys to save her!"

On our wedding anniversary, my husband has his intern put on the custom-made wedding gown he prepared for me. "You wouldn't have looked good in a wedding gown with your baby bump, anyway. She's saving us trouble by wearing the gown for you. Think about how kind she is!" Before I can rebuke him, an earthquake happens. I lose my balance and fall to the floor. Instantly, I feel moisture on my legs. At the same time, my husband received a call from his intern. "There are so many frogs here, Mr. Quinn. I'm so scared…" My husband turns to leave, but I grab his pant leg. "Ethan, I—" "It's just a minor earthquake—the ground barely even shook. Don't make a mountain out of a molehill. Didn't you hear Chloe crying because she was so scared? Can't you be sympathetic?" He ignores the blood pooling around me and hurries off to comfort Chloe Bennett. That night, they share a passionate kiss under a sky full of fireworks. Meanwhile, my child dies in my belly. It's a pretty good way to end things. Someone like Ethan Quinn doesn't deserve to have his own children.

"Interested in having a date with me? Hurry up and get over here!" Elliot Coleman sends me a photo of a venue that's decorated romantically. It's followed by that sentence and an address. He and his friends laugh hysterically when I arrive in a carefully selected dress. "I told you, right? She'd come running with just a single sentence! Trust me, she'll do whatever I want her to do!" Elliot ignores my embarrassment and publicly confesses his feelings for Isabelle Stevens. He even falsely accuses me of refusing to leave him alone and tries to chase me off. Then, he turns pale when my newlywed husband arrives and shields me.

After years of bullying me and even causing my grandmother's death, Jenna Sanders has finally had her life torn apart by Raymond Campbell. She can no longer hurt me, and I slowly move past my trauma with Raymond's guidance and help. I think it's finally time for me to be happy when I overhear his conversation with his friend. "You and Xyla are going to get married soon. When are you going to break things off with Jenna?" Raymond sounds disdainful. "She's nothing but something for me to pass the time! She's so evil that merely ruining her life isn't enough. I want her to be my filthy plaything and wish she were dead. That's my punishment for her!" His eyes gleam with anger and hatred toward Jenna, but my hand falls to my side. I no longer want to open the door, and my blood runs cold. The love I thought was pure turns out to be tainted by filth and cruelty. If that's all it is, I don't want it anymore.

My roommate had a peculiar knack for pestering everyone into liking her posts on social media, all so she could collect enough likes to claim some prize or another. It was her way of life—nagging, nudging, and guilting us into clicking that little thumbs-up. One time, the campus beauty queen liked my roommate's ad for a facial mask. Not long after, she was in a horrific car accident. The vehicle caught fire, and her face suffered severe burns, leaving her disfigured beyond recognition. Meanwhile, my roommate seemed to undergo a miraculous transformation, her complexion turning porcelain fair and flawless as though she'd been kissed by the heavens. Then there was the academic prodigy, a shoe-in for graduate school, who liked her tutoring service post. Shortly after, he was exposed for academic fraud, and his once-brilliant reputation was reduced to ashes. Strangely enough, my roommate's research paper suddenly won an award, catapulting her to fame and fortune. And me? I fell into her trap too. I liked her rental agency ad, and before I knew it, my world crumbled. A scandal erupted, revealing that I was the result of a mix-up at birth. It turned out she was the long-lost child of wealth and privilege—a hidden gem cast into the rough, now reclaimed by her rightful family. As for me, I was packed off to the countryside village she had escaped from and forced into a brutal marriage with an old man. My life became a living hell, and eventually, I died there, broken and forgotten. But fate wasn't done with me yet. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day my roommate begged me to like her post in exchange for yet another prize.

My dormmate has dropped out of college to get married. Before that, she shares a livestream link on the college forum. She claims her husband has cheated on her, and she wants to stream how she punishes the homewrecker. She asks everyone to share the link and hype the situation up. I don't take her words to heart. To my surprise, she barges into my house with a group of people that afternoon. She trashes the place and screams bloody murder at me. It seems she thinks I'm the homewrecker. It's only from her words that I understand her rich and handsome husband is my father. Well, since she's caused such a scene, it looks like her darling is going to lose his job and leave this family without a penny to his name.

My husband's first love was scalded by boiling water. To punish me, he forced me into a customized steamer half my height, turned the heat to its highest setting, and sealed me inside. "I'll make you feel the pain Jessica suffered a thousand times over!" Trapped in the suffocating space, my breath came in ragged gasps. Heat seared my skin, and my body felt as though it would melt. I sobbed, begging him for mercy. "Please! I'm going to die!" But he didn't look back. Holding his beloved in his arms, he walked away. He even locked the door after he left the room. "Don't worry, you won't die. This is the only way you'll understand Jessica's pain." Despair swallowed me whole. I screamed, my voice raw, but the boiling water beneath me splashed up, scalding my skin, stealing even the strength to cry. He left the country with Jessica that same night. A week passed before he finally remembered my existence. "That wretched woman must have learned her lesson by now. Let her out." What he didn't know was that the water had long since boiled away, the heat had faded, and inside the steamer, my corpse lay rotting—swarmed with maggots.

Even after being married for three years, my husband treats me like a stranger. When I throw up blood from pregnancy complications, he's in the prayer room chanting for his foster sister, Yvie Springton. He accuses me of being dramatic. If Yvie so much as gets a headache, he drops everything and flies overseas to be by her side. When his parents are in critical condition after a car crash, I beg him to go see them one last time. But what does he do? He claims I'm cursing Yvie. When I go into early labor and cling to life after giving birth to our son, he posts a photo of his international boarding pass on social media. At his parents' funeral, he returns to the country with Yvie and demands I leave the marriage with nothing. The day our divorce finalizes, he holds a wedding ceremony with her. I bury his parents alone. Then, at an exclusive auction, dead set on winning the famous painting for Yvie, he offered a staggering price. Even his accounts are frozen. That's when he finally realizes he's been disowned by the Springton family. His eyes are bloodshot, and he's furious as he demands answers. I simply gesture for my lawyer to step forward. He says, "Mr. Springton, take a look at this will."

My dad was a zombie. My mom? Even scarier. She was an uber-powerful mutant. At the crack of dawn, she was already yelling, "Derick Olson! Don't make me come over there! What kind of zombie are you? Glued to your headphones all day—are those audiobooks really that captivating?" I rolled over in bed and promptly fell right off. Scrambling to my feet, I started tidying up my room in a flash, terrified she might actually make good on her threat. "Look at Mr. Hoffman next door," she hollered. "He roams the streets day and night, probably gobbled up more brains than you've read books!"

On my 22nd birthday, my uncle Scott discovered my diary. After he found out about my secret love for him, he sent me overseas. He then spent hundreds of thousands, marrying the love of his life.

My mother is hospitalized due to a terminal illness. She's in urgent need of a kidney transplant to save her life. I'm the only one who can perform the surgery, but I give the kidney to a stranger. My father and husband get on their knees before me on the day of the surgery. They beg me to save my mother. However, I shrug and say, "I can't do anything about this. A life is a life, regardless of who the person is. This is what she gets for coming late—death is waiting for her."

My brother and childhood sweetheart both fall in love with my adopted sister who is about to marry someplace afar in my stead. One of them has forgotten about me, and the other has broken his vow to always be by my side. To win back Mona Pierce—who has learned the truth—they join forces to push me down the stairs on my birthday. I lose all hope in them and agree to the arranged marriage. Five days later, I leave the Greer family for good. Yet, after my departure, they regret everything.

Finnegan Churchill grabs me by the hair and drags me to a staircase with 99 steps. He orders me to crawl my way up as an apology to his true love, Colette Brooke. At the same time, I'm supposed to pray for her. He has no idea I'm the one who cared for him during the three years he was blind.

"Martin, you're getting married within two weeks. What are you going to do about the woman outside?" Stacy Lynd paused at those words, even as a man answered indifferently, "Just keep your mouth shut. She won't know if none of you breathe a word." Behind the door, Stacy's tears blurred her vision. Never did she expect that the man she loved for years was going to treat her like a side chick. At that point, she truly understood, and went on to burn her accounts. It was not until afterward that Stacy realized she wasn't the one who couldn't get over that doomed relationship.

When the star pirate, Black Mamba demanded one of us give birth to his child, my older sister didn't hesitate to sacrifice me. I never imagined that after my cruel death and eventual rebirth, she would throw herself into his clutches instead. When I saw that terrible serpentine swelling once more, horrifying memories sent shivers through my body. All I wanted to do was run. But my sister grabbed me by the jaw. "You've been reborn too! I'm going to make you suffer!" I could tell she meant it.

After three years of secretly dating my boyfriend, I finally called my mom. "Mom, I've decided—I'm coming home to run the family business." She practically squealed through the phone. "That's such good news! But... what about your boyfriend?" I stood at the door, took a breath, and said, "Don't worry. In ten days, he's history."

To get me to agree to a divorce, my husband lied and told me he had stomach cancer. I glanced at the medical report in my bag and said nothing. Instead, I broke down right then and there, sobbing like my heart was being ripped apart, absolutely refusing to divorce him. Because what he didn't know… was that he actually had cancer. Just not stomach cancer—liver cancer. And with his funeral coming up soon, if we divorced now, who would inherit all his assets? No way. I couldn't let this divorce happen!

Kaden Zacarias and I have been together for a decade. He gives me all his love throughout that time. But one day, I see the news of him marrying Gwendolyn Crawford as part of a marriage alliance. He tells his friends, "I'm only fooling around with Ella—does she think I'll actually marry her? It's not like my parents will ever agree to it. I can just keep her around as a mistress after getting married. Remember to keep your mouths shut about this." Our decade-long love goes up in flames, but I don't question him. Instead, I call my father with a withered heart and say, "I'll go through with the marriage alliance. I'll leave the country."

"Sweetie, are you coming? I'll wait for you at our usual spot." Henry Lane is about to go to bed when he receives a voice message. It's spoken in Rushky. He turns his back to me as his face lights up in joy. Then, he answers in Rushky, "Of course. I love you." I'm about to fall asleep, but I jolt when I hear that. The sweet voice on the other end of the line rings out again. "Your wife won't find out about this, will she?" "I'm talking to you to her face now." Henry snorts. "We're speaking in Rushky; she can't understand us." My heart twists painfully. It turns out he's never loved or truly understood me. He thinks I'm just a housewife whose world revolves around him; he has no idea I once studied in Rushnia for two years as an exchange student. I suppress my sorrow and heartbreak as I caress my belly. Then, I make an appointment with a local hospital for an abortion.

Right before I hit forty, my husband hit me with: "I want a divorce." For the past ten years, I had been driving a truck outside every day to support my family, while he had been cheating on me at home. Even our child was no longer close to me. "Bad Mom! You hit Jenny! Bad Mom!" Willy cried. "I don't want Mom. I want Jenny. I wanna stay with Dad and Jenny!" Jenny. The neighbor. Single mom. Her kid and ours were tight. Ten years of grinding, running myself ragged—for two ingrates? All right! Wish your family of four a happy life! I didn't want my husband or son anymore.