After I Play Dead My Four Moms Break Novels & Stories

I said urging her to speak. " she is your mum " vonne said Hah yeah the most expensive joke of the year everyone knows my parents are both dead "You must be mistaken my parents are both dead okayy they died when I was six " I said to her "Its true dear I'm your mum " the older lady said " I don't believe you my mum is dead my dad is dead everyone I know is dead " I yelled Cause everything is pissing me off its itching me " 🎶Go to sleep baby my little girl🎶

Mom said, and I sighed. "Upsy," I said while Mom laughed. "No worries; more for me. " She gulped down my glass, and then she sighed and yawned. "Wow, those drinks were hefty," Mom said, and suddenly she passed out. "MOM!" I yelled, patting her on her cheek, while she grunted. I sighed, knowing that they had knocked her off, and that she was not killed. I saw Aunt Paige go through the same thing, Petra, Eiry, and Sary... "Damn it..." she said before passing out.

Frozen in place, I saw my dad unleash his fury on my mom, his curses echoing: "You killed her! You deserve to die, you worthless trash!” The scene before me was all too familiar—a cycle of pain that never seemed to end. My mother’s screams, my father’s curses, the sound of flesh meeting fists—it played out like a nightmare on repeat. My bruised body ached, the marks a permanent reminder of my reality. Then, everything went silent. The chaos faded, leaving me in an eerie void. It was like floating in darkness, disconnected, watching the violence unfold in muted horror. My mind retreated, pulling me into a memory—the night it all began.

I left alone my sick mom who was half dead and walked to my dad with the happiness that my dad had called me. " Am leaving you cursed people. You can never have a mate once your mom died in your hand bitch" He said taking out a bag and walking out of the basement to the exit door which was so heartbreaking. I didn't mind all that. I walked to my mom who I noticed was already died and knelt beside her crying out my life " Mom, I promise you to get a better mate than yours that left you like this " I said leaving her dead body running outside the apartment with tears running down my eyelid like a broken dam.

The bodyguard's eyes went wide at what I said. Mom said something to him, and he tore out his earpiece before pushing the phone into my hand. I glanced at the screen and saw a woman with flawless makeup and rosy cheeks. It was my mother, who was supposed to be dead. There wasn't a trace of warmth on her face. Her gaze was wary, edged with a subtle, almost hidden touch of regret. What could she possibly regret? No mother would ever hurt her own child, yet she had used those so-called "dreams" as her excuse to kill me.

She laughed so hard she rocked back and forth, completely unaware that her daughter had become a corpse. "Mom, why isn't Layla up yet?" Liam looked up and asked. The smile vanished from Mom's face instantly. She rolled her eyes. "Who cares about that brat? I’d prefer if she starved to death so she stops being an eyesore. She made such a mess yesterday. I bet she's too ashamed to show her face." I floated in front of her and spoke slowly, "Mom, I'm already dead." However, she could no longer hear me.

“I won’t always be there. I can’t always be there. But don’t let the things you don’t say… be the things that break you.” She swallows, trying to hold herself together. “I know I wasn’t the best mom. I know I messed up more times than I can count. But I’m dead now, so technically you’re not allowed to hate me anymore.” there's a wet, crooked smile on her face a failed attempt at lightness. “Yes, I’m playing the ‘I’m dead’ card. Have mercy.” Despite the ache in my throat, I chuckle. Alex does too. The sound is short, shaky.....but it’s real.

My parents listened to those desperate calls with nothing but irritation, dismissing each one as theatrics, an inconvenience unworthy of their time. My brother snarled over the phone, “Then just die already!” So I did. In the end, it was my three-year-old daughter who made the final call—using her smartwatch to video my mother, live-streaming the freezer where my severed head lay. Now, my spirit watches from above as they all, one by one, begin to unravel. ... I knew I was finally going to die. So I called my family. My mom answered. She was in the middle of a face mask, her voice muffled and edged with impatience. “What is it now, Elena?”

My parents returned quickly—early the next morning, they were home. Shane, still irritated from their scolding, forced me to sit on the sofa all night. I hadn't slept, my stomach ached, and cold sweat drenched me. I felt utterly drained. Yet, when my parents arrived, I rose to my feet like a reflex. In my mind, they had died five years ago. Now, seeing them alive and well at home felt like a dream. "Lily, do you understand what you did wrong?"

Mom always says that depression is nothing more than an illness born of idleness. People who are truly busy studying don't have time to be depressed. So, during my senior year of high school, I lie awake through countless nights, my hair falling out in clumps as I tremble over endless mock papers. Mom only slides another mock exam booklet in front of me. "Finish this booklet, and you won't have time to wallow in self-pity." At family gatherings, my relatives notice that I keep my head down and barely speak. They ask Mom, "Why has she gotten so quiet?" Mom's face darkens at once. "It's because she's guilty about something, duh. Go on. Tell everyone what you've done wrong this time." Late