Emotional Damage Guy Novels & Stories

My name is Dylan Reed. I’m a senior college student on the track-and-field team.

Heating starts on the 15th, so I give my mom the money to pay the heating bill two days in advance and ask her to pay it for me. But a week passes, and it still feels like an icehouse in my apartment. I am on the phone complaining to my younger brother's wife, Selena Lyons, who lives upstairs. "You are right not to pay the heating fee. I paid, and it made no difference. We're freezing to death here." From the other end of the call, I faintly hear my nephew shouting, "Mom, it's so hot! I want a popsicle!"

There had been a shortage of faculty at the start of the freshman year, so I had temporarily stepped in to take on the role of a student advisor. To avoid unnecessary trouble, I had deliberately dressed down in the plainest shirt I could find and put on a pair of thick black-rimmed glasses. However, a troublemaking student brought a group of people and blocked me on the field just as the opening ceremony ended. "Hey, old hag, you're done being a faculty member in Salt-U. How dare you dress like that on purpose to mess with my eyes! Strip and get on your knees, and I might let you off this once!" I narrowed my eyes, irritation rising. Then, I reminded him of the student code of conduct. He immediately blew up. "Cut the act! Who do you think you're fooling? My dad's the Director of Academic Administration! He's the one in charge of your evaluations!" The field suddenly fell silent, and all the freshmen began sneaking glances in our direction. I unhurriedly took off my glasses and let out a low chuckle as I looked down at the meeting notes in my hand. His father was a director, he thought that was enough of a reason for him to behave so imperiously. In that case, I supposed that the first item on the board meeting agenda that day would be the dismissal of the Director of Academic Administration.

A young woman showed up at my door, saying she wanted to become my wife to repay me for saving her life. She drove my younger sister out of the house and wanted to transfer the family property to her parasitic parents in my name! I immediately reported her. How could someone be so bold as to commit robbery right at my home in a society governed by law?

Before my grandmother passed away, she set up a will for the kids to inherit her pasta shop. My younger brother, Richard Lane, immediately pushed the responsibility to me so that he could take up a job offer that paid $4,000 a month. No one could have expected a fire to break out at the hotel during one of his trips, causing his entire face to be burned off. Meanwhile, things went great for me after I took over the shop. I fell in love with a billionaire's daughter and found my happily ever after with her. My younger brother poisoned me in a fit of jealousy. After we were sent back in time, my brother immediately chomped at the bit to take over the shop before I could do anything. I scoffed as I rolled my eyes. He was digging his own grave.

When my wife, Cynthia Larson, dies of bone cancer, I am in Penwood on a honeymoon with my "first love". After this is exposed, I—a well-known philanthropist—am subjected to the internet's rage for an entire month. Beyond threats and harassment messages, even my food deliveries are poisoned. As public outrage intensifies, the companies under my name are on the verge of bankruptcy. In overwhelming grief, I start a livestream. Tens of thousands of viewers flood in, demanding that I apologize to my deceased wife. They want to see me suffer as I chase after lost love when it is too late. Unexpectedly, I stand in front of Cynthia's grave holding a shovel. "She is already dead. Shouldn't her kidney be donated to Irene?"

Daddy brought me to Aunt Jenny’s party. As I was eating a piece of cake, I tasted a cherry between the layers and hurriedly spat it out. Once, I broke out in rashes after eating a cherry and nearly died, so I was deeply traumatized by that flavor even as a young child. However, Aunt Jenny looked heartbroken. “I hid a cherry in the cake as a little surprise, just like it’s good luck to get a bay leaf in a pie. How could you be so rude, Kenny?” Daddy did not even let me explain. He chased me out in the yard and made me stand there as punishment. Mommy said it had been more than a hundred degrees out lately, so she told me to stay home and not go out to play. Now I knew just how hot 104 degrees could be! My body was all itchy, too. I was finding it hard to breathe. I wanted to ask Daddy to forgive me, but he refused to open the door no matter how hard I knocked. He glanced at me coldly through the floor-to-ceiling window. He was not going to let me back in.

Half a year after our divorce, my ex-husband became a trending topic online. His current wife, who had just given birth, jumped off a building. When she jumped, she was clutching a printed, 98-page copy of the "Cloves Family Code of Conduct." The reason for her suicide? She couldn’t buy discounted groceries online. A reporter came to interview me and asked, "Excuse me, were you also given the same family rules?"

I die in the basement after being burned by acid. My family doesn't recognize me, and they don't call the cops. My mother picks up the scalpel that hasn't been used in years and debones me. My father excitedly mixes my skeleton with concrete and turns me into an exquisite statue. My sister uses the sculpture she's made out of my flesh and portrays herself as a genius sculptor whom everyone admires. Later, the sculpture is shattered, revealing half a broken finger inside. That's when everyone panics.

It was not easy for me to be home for the long holidays, but my father ordered me to do the dishes after dinner. I was taken aback. "Don't you have a caregiver at home?" My mother frowned. "It's been hard on Harry to be taking care of us every day. Since you're home, you should let him take a rest, and do all the housework." I could not understand this. "But I paid a lot of money to hire him to take care of you and the housework. Why am I doing the work I paid him to do?" My words caused Harry Lambert to tear up, and they angered my parents as well. My mother frowned. "What's the point of bringing you up when we hardly see you in a year. At least Harry is considerate enough to stay by our side and take care of us." As for my father, he pointed at my nose. "You don't need to waste your time coming back anymore. Harry will be our son from now on! You can just get out and do whatever you want!" I smiled in exasperation. Work had been extremely busy for me, but I still gave my parents a handsome monthly allowance. Even the caregiver cost a lot of money, but they ended up treating him like he was something precious. If that were the case, I would stop paying for everything. I wanted to see if the caregiver would still be willing to act as their son and work for free.