After I Play Dead My Four Moms Break Novels & Stories

I was born lazy. At least, that was what my mother told me over and over again. Because my mother believed in modern discipline, she made my twin sister, Sophie, and me wear self-discipline bracelets from the moment we were born. Whenever we slacked off, the bracelet would flash red, and Mom would press a button on the remote, making it blast a piercing alarm as punishment. Sophie’s bracelet was always green. Even when she spent the entire day lying in her room playing games, she would simply smile and tell Mom she had been studying whenever Mom asked. The bracelet would remain quietly glowing green. But me? All I had to do was sit on the couch and rest for a few minutes. The bracelet would

During a holiday, when I told my mother that my boyfriend would be coming to my house, her expression darkened. Tears welled up in her eyes as she touched my face and said in a hoarse voice, “Oh my God... Thank God you’re still alive. “Do you remember what day this is? This time, I’m not letting you die.” She acted as if she were possessed and screamed at me hysterically, “He’s a serial killer! We’ll all die if he comes today. Last time around, I was the only one left!” I believed her. I broke up with him and called the police to have him arrested. I let out a sigh of relief as I watched him get taken away, and my mother revealed a triumphant smile. She then said calmly, “That’s that.

I gritted my teeth as tears struck the floor one drop at a time. "Speak! Where is she?" Cold sweat and blood soaked through my back. I clenched my teeth and used my body to protect the remaining ashes. Tears continued to fall uncontrollably. "Mom, I’m sorry. I couldn’t protect you." Dad’s expression stiffened for a moment, but it quickly darkened again. "Lock her up! No one is allowed to give her food without my permission!" The door was slammed and locked. I knelt amid the scattered ashes and debris, keeping vigil over Mom through the night.

I've been born ten times, and every one of those lives ended badly, because nobody ever noticed I was there. So this life, I decided to stop struggling and just wait to die. At five I was kidnapped. I lay down where I was, held my breath, and dusted a layer of white lime over myself for good measure. The kidnappers thought they'd killed me and turned themselves in on the spot. When the police found me, I was lying on a gurney outside the morgue doors, waving at the attendant. "Could you push a little faster? I've got a reincarnation to catch." At seventeen, my birth parents found me. On the drive back to the estate, I refused the seat and climbed into the trunk instead, like I'd done i

hear my mom's screams anymore. I couldn't feel my back I wasn't able to move. I was slightly conscious and slightly not. I felt my body being picked up and then thrown in the van. The next time I opened my eyes I was in the back yard of our house, and they were burying my mom in our garden, she wasn't breathing, there were barely any clothes on her and her body was bathed in blood. I was held by one of the goons, I screamed on top of my lungs when they threw my mom like a rag doll in that grave and buried her completely under the ground, I screamed, begged them, but they didn't stop instead one of the man said,"She's dead! So, thank us that we are burying her and not cutting her into pieces

I couldn't fight it any longer, I let mine flow as well. My mom didn't believe us until she saw their corpses. She couldn't bear the pain of watching the lifeless bodies of her two kids, my mom collapsed and that became the last time I saw her alive. How was a mother supposed to bear the death of her two kids? The doctors tried all they could but my mom never responded. I cried, my dad wept, we prayed but nothing happened. "Mom please wake up" I cried out loud to know if she would hear me but she didn't. My dad tried talking to her but it didn't seem like she cared who he was.

I hear my mom shout from the other room. I scoff “Shawn is dead, mom!” I shout then sigh “Shawn is dead.”

that was my mom's last statement and she gasped her last breath. “Mother? Wake up, Mother!” I shook her vigorously. “Somebody help me! Mother! Don’t do this to me, please. I said I’m sorry. Stay with me, I’m begging you. Mother!” I sobbed. My head heavies with pain. Tears streamed uncontrollably down my cheeks and fear made me shudder nonstop. I fumbled around her. I checked her pulse, she was indeed not breathing. Is my mother truly dead? No, I refuse to accept that. “Mother? Argh!” I wailed.

My mom snapped, "Handle him? Yeah, right! Do you really think he's brave enough to chop off Mr. Hoffman's head? He'll end up drenched in stinking blood! And if he doesn't clean up properly, he's not setting foot back inside!" My dad stiffened, resembling a malfunctioning robot, as he dragged his feet, clumsily reaching for his backpack. I stepped in to help him strap it on. "Remember, if you run into any living people, just drop down and play dead."

Tears began to flow freely down my cheeks as I revealed her beautiful face, now peaceful yet irrevocably lifeless. My hands trembled as I reached for her cheeks. Her every word replayed in my mind as I stared at her lifeless body. My mother was really gone. Gently cupping her cheeks, I leaned in close and whispered desperately, “Wake up, Mom. I know you’re just pretending. This is one of your tricks, right? Please, wake up!” My voice was a soft, pleading murmur as I shook her lightly on the stretcher, clinging to a fragile hope that she would respond.