Emotional Closet

Out on a holiday with my boyfriend, Jack, and my good friend, Eva, a catastrophe occurred. As the floods came, we waited for the rescue helicopter to come. As I fastened the safety rope, I noticed that my metal safety clip had been swapped for a plastic ring. Climbing up the rope ladder, Jack said nonchalantly, "Eva's luggage is heavy. She needs another safety clip, so I gave her yours. You can wait for the next rescue." I replied in a panic, pointing at the water level already past my chest, "But I can't swim!" Jack replied irritatedly, "Naomi, stop causing a scene! You're a strong swimmer, what's a little time in the water? Eva is my boss's relative. If something happens to her, my promotion is gone. Why can't you understand that?" "Which matters more? My life or her luggage?" I reached for the rope ladder when he kicked my hand away. "I've studied the waters. The flood won't rise so quickly. It will at most be at the level of your neck. You won't die!" I said nothing further. Watching the floods rise crazily, I quickly pressed my family's special alarm on my wrist.

On Christmas Eve, my six-year-old, Yule, was dying from cancer, and all he wanted was a gift from his dad dressed as Santa. I called Peter, my husband, begging him to come. His reply? "Can you stop blowing up my phone? I don't have time for this! I'm helping Tracey find Puffy. Do you know how upset she is?" Oh, Tracey. His first love. And Puffy? Her dog. I told him Yule might not make it through the night. His response? A straight-up dagger: "Don't act like this isn't your fault, Freya. If Yule hadn't kicked Puffy, none of this would've happened. Tomorrow, make sure he apologizes to Tracey." Then he hung up. That night, I sat with Yule, crying as I helped him celebrate his last Christmas. By morning, Peter's social medias were still full of posts about that freaking dog. Mine? Yule's obituary. Ten years of marriage, gone.

My boyfriend’s cousin went to live at his place after her divorce. Not only did she have a five-year-old, but she was even pregnant. She regarded my boyfriend as her support as if it were her right and blamed me for everything. She thought I had taken away her cousin. At a family gathering one day, her son splashed a drink at me and yelled, "You’re not allowed to steal my dad!"

In my previous life, I inherited the family's steakhouse, while my sister asked our dad to get her a job that paid 75 hundred a month. To her shock and surprise, the heir of a rich family and I fell in love at first sight when he came over for a meal. I became his wife, and everyone envied me for marrying the richest man in Imperia. My sister lost both her legs during a work accident. Jealous of my great life, she set me up and killed me with her own hands. We were both reborn at the same time, back to the moment where we would make the decision that would change our lives forever. Right before our father, she told him she wanted to inherit Shaw's Steakhouse. I heard everything, and in a corner where no one could see me, a sneer curled my lips. Poor thing. She had no idea at all. Her nightmare would begin the moment she met Jonathan Landton.

On the day my boyfriend and I moved into our new home, his ex-girlfriend gave us a mysterious gift. The moment I opened the front door, a swarm of hornets came flying out. I screamed in fright as I felt seven or eight stings from them. His ex, Erica Loft, jumped out from behind the door with a giggle. She shouted, "Surprise! "I went up the mountains to visit a master craftsman. I wanted to get you this specially brewed hornet wine, and I even brought back a hornet's nest for you to decorate your new house with! "Isn't this a great gift?" Erica made a face at us. She was gleeful at the messy predicament I was in. My boyfriend, Joe Fulham, clenched his teeth. He rushed forward to grab Erica by the wrist as he shouted angrily at her. "Are you crazy? Don't you know that hornets are venomous?! Is this really a surprise, or are you trying to hurt us?" I listened to another one of their huge arguments from behind the door, feeling like an outsider in my own relationship. As I felt the stinging pain in my arm, I knew this wedding was about to fall through.

I stand in the hospital after my two older brothers decline all 99 of my phone calls. They finally appear, bringing with them the biological sister they found. My gentle eldest brother, who had once rescued me from my so-called abusive parents, raises his hand and slaps me across the face. "Cynthia, you're actually pretending to have a terminal illness just to compete with Sarah for our affection? And you came to this kind of place to frighten us?" I clutch my swollen cheek and listen as my second brother, who always says he'll trust me no matter what, holds Sarah in his arms and laughs out loud. "Are you trying to fake being sick to get our attention after seeing that Sarah is in poor health? "Just cut the act. You've been living in luxury since childhood and have always been in perfect health. How could you possibly be ill?" Sarah Crawford speaks up thoughtfully, "Don't blame her, you two. I think she just feels like I've stolen away your love for her, which is why she has become so unreasonable..." I look at the two brothers who have doted on me for ten years and suddenly feel that nothing matters anymore. After all, I only have seven days left to live. In seven days, everything will return to normal after my departure. But by then, they'll be the ones unable to accept it.

On the day I go to the car dealership to pick up my car, I'm told that the previous salesperson has resigned, so a different salesperson will attend to me. Yet the first thing the salesperson does is say that I paid too little for the car and demand that I pay more to make up the difference. "The other salesperson is truly an idiot. How could he sell a car for 300 thousand dollars in cash? It's no wonder he got chewed out and quit. If you want to take the car, you'll have to switch to a five-year loan with an interest rate of 12%." I'm rendered speechless as he blatantly tries to extort me. "I've already paid and signed the sales contract. You're breaching the contract!" The salesperson scoffs. "So what? The car is with us anyway. If you're not going to pay the difference, don't even think of taking the car with you!" I can't help but chuckle. I calmly pull my phone out of my suit pocket. "Walter, place Mr. Paul Roland's loan application on hold for now. He's earning big bucks for his business. It seems like he doesn't need it anymore."

I was in a car accident on my way to my son, Nathan’s piano competition. Ignoring my injuries, I limped to the venue just in time for the awards ceremony. Nathan won the gold medal. With excitement shining in his eyes, he ran toward me. But as I smiled at him, he turned and placed the medal around the neck of my husband’s first love, Janine Beck. My husband of ten years, Christopher Frost, looked at me with irritation. “Look at what you’re wearing! You’re filthy, like a beggar,” he said cruelly. “Don’t come to Nathan’s celebration dinner tonight—he’s embarrassed by you!” I stayed silent and went alone to the hospital to have my injuries checked. Later, I returned to the villa, drenched in the rain, only to find the doors locked against me. I knocked on the door in the pouring rain for the entire night. At dawn, when the first light broke across the sky, I sent Christopher a message: [Let’s get a divorce. As you wish, I will no longer be an eyesore in your lives.]

After Mom passed, it was just me and Dad, depending on each other. I’ve always had poor health, and people used to taunt me, calling me a “sickly, doomed child.” He kneeled by my bedside, making a promise. “I swear, I’ll get you the best treatment, no matter what. You’ll never suffer again!” Eventually, he became a powerful CEO, going so far as to buy an entire private villa just so I could recover in peace. However, his assistant assumed I was his mistress.  She came in with a group of security guards and surrounded me. “So, you’re the cripple who’s been seducing Mr. Johnson?” “Let’s see if you can still act high and mighty after I’m done with you!” She kicked over my wheelchair, yanked me by the hair, scratched up my face, and finally cut off my hand. Barely clinging to life, I lay there until Dad came back. She held up my severed hand, presenting it to him. “Mr. Johnson, this was a spy sent by a rival company. I took care of her for you.”

The moment my roommate walked in, she used my locker. She claimed to have too many things and nowhere else to put them. I rolled my eyes. Why should I let her get her way? I was not her parent. She was no princess, but she acted like one. I was ready to argue, but she tossed 200,000 dollars at me. “At your service, Your Highness!”