Emotional Deep Drawings Novels & Stories

I, Lilian Newton, am the top luxury goods repair specialist. 90 percent of the store's revenue comes from me. Three years on the job, I turn a little shop that nearly goes bankrupt into a nationwide chain. Just because I am two minutes late to work, the new manager locks the front door and plans to take the staff on a trip. I ask her why I was not informed. She scoffs and says, "The capable should do more work. We are going on a trip. You stay behind to work overtime. If you can't handle it, then get lost!" I laugh in exasperation and call my husband right away. "I hear you're planning to fire me. Is that it?"

As I walk out of the emergency room, a woman rushes over to me. "You're a doctor, right? My son scraped his knee. Hurry up and come treat him!" I am about to explain, but she glares at me and questions indignantly, "Isn't a doctor supposed to save people? You have time to slack off, but you have no time to treat my son's wound. Is that it?" She grabs my collar and drags me toward the ward. I try to explain, "Ma'am, I’m not—" But she doesn't listen at all and slaps me across the face. "Not what? Are you blind? Can't you see my son is bleeding? Instead of helping my son, you treat those poor nobodies! If you keep delaying my son's treatment, I won't let you off! "Get on your knees and apologize to him right now! Otherwise, I'll file a complaint and have your license revoked!" I endure the sharp pain and struggle to lift my head. In my five years of practicing medicine, this is the first time I have ever been complained about by a living person. "It's not that I won't treat him. I am a forensic pathologist..."

My best friend, Mira Bolton, got into an online relationship with three rich men while impersonating me. One of them was an heir to an extremely wealthy family, the second one was a domineering pilot, while the last one was a cold and aloof professor who taught medicine. In order to siphon money from them, Mira told them that she wanted to marry them, but they'd have to pay her family three million dollars each as a form of monetary gift. After they agreed to Mira's proposal, she used my ID to register in three different marriages with them at respective times. Mira was terrified that she'd suffer from a fate worse than death when her wrongdoings were exposed. Right after she received the money, she told them she had cancer and needed to fly overseas to get it treated. That was how she disappeared with millions of dollars under her name. Eventually, they tracked me down using the information from my ID card. Daniel Newton, the rich heir, asked me icily, "Didn't you fly overseas to get your cancer treated?" I looked very confused by his question. Only then did they realize they had gotten tricked by Mira. Enraged, Daniel had me kidnapped and thrown into a rural village all the way in the mountains. Kevin Luther, the pilot, broke my legs and told me that I could forget about escaping from the mountains forever. Felix McQuinn, the professor, felt that it wasn't big enough of a punishment for me, so he personally removed my kidney from my body. In the village, I was reduced to a plaything meant for the villagers to toy with. In the end, I caught STDs and died in a filthy pig pen. When I wake up again, I've returned after Mira stole my identity and got into a relationship with them.

My mom believed in one thing above all else: being number one. To achieve that, she created a strict daily schedule and even developed a monitoring app that required us to submit reports every day. Anyone who failed to rank first according to the app's evaluation would be tied to a chair and severely punished. No matter how difficult the task was, my younger brother, Jason Hunt, could always complete it and receive a perfect score. Even when he actually ranked last, the monitoring software would still display him in first place. As for me, a single misspelled word was enough to trigger a failing warning from the app, followed immediately by my mom's harsh punishment. At first, I tried to explain. Later, I stayed silent. In the end, I could only kneel and beg. My mom remained unmoved. "Trash doesn't deserve sympathy," she said coldly. "You'll thank me when you become successful in the future." On the first day of the New Year, my mom took Jason out to visit our relatives and exchange greetings. I, meanwhile, was burning with a high fever and could not even finish the day's assignments. Ignoring my illness, my mom dragged me into a bathtub filled with ice. "If you're trying to escape studying, you don't deserve to live," she said. "Pretending to be sick? If you've got the guts, then just die already." She forced my head underwater and raised a rod, smashing it against my skull again and again. I begged desperately for mercy, but it was futile. My mom left with Jason, and I curled up alone on the floor. She was right. Only those who work hard deserve to live.

My ex, Jason Buckley—the guy I dumped five years ago—still sent tiny cash transfers to check if I existed. I never responded. This time, I tapped accept by accident. A second later, he lost it. "Wow, quick reflexes. What guy's been keeping you busy these past five years? Made you this cheap? Knew you couldn't get over me. "You took my 'let's fix this' gift, so we're signing marriage papers tomorrow. "My new dad's loaded—the richest in Seavora—and he can't wait to see me married." I just stared at the one-dollar payment on my screen and left him on read. The next day, he showed up at my place in Seavora City with his mom, parked right in the doorway. "This is gonna be our house, right? If you're not just after my family's money, transfer it into my name first." Yeah. He'd officially lost it. We broke up five years ago. My son's three. And if he's the heir to the richest man... what does that make my husband?

After connecting to a call hosted on a treasure-appraisal livestream, I find out that the "Fields of Freedom" stamp my grandpa has left me with is worth 10 million dollars. I've been troubled as to how I should afford my upcoming wedding with my girlfriend, Danielle Dalton. Delighted by the news, I call Danielle to tell her about it. Unexpectedly, Danielle, who's always such a prude about physical contact to the point that she refuses to let me kiss her, turns up on my doorstep that night. She spends the night draining me of my stamina with her skills and body. When I wake up once again, both Danielle and my stamp are gone. I visit Danielle's home to get my stamp back. But her father instantly shoves me out of the door angrily. "We don't welcome you here! Get lost right now!" At first, I thought there was a misunderstanding between us, so I still held back on my rudeness. But when I notice how rude Danielle's father is being to me, I decide to go all out on him. "Sure, I can leave, but you must return the stamp Danielle has stolen from me—" Before I can finish speaking, someone has dumped a bucket of ice-cold water onto my face. It turns out that the culprit is Danielle's mother. As she carries the bucket, she scowls at me, her features completely twisted. "Who the hell did you claim to have stolen your stamp, huh? Don't you dare run your mouth without any proof! I'll definitely sue you, you know!" Having realized how vile Danielle's parents actually are, I can't help but feel a strong hint of relief. Thank goodness I had only shown Danielle a fake copy of the stamp last night.

To take care of my paralyzed mother-in-law, I quit my job and spent three years as a full-time househusband. That day, after cleaning up her waste, I hid in the bathroom with a cigarette between my fingers and came across a post on my wife’s boss’ Instagram. [You’re meant to be with me in the end. Since that freeloader can’t give you happiness, let me take you to the paradise of Maldev.] Above the caption were two plane tickets. Someone commented below. [That homemaker husband of hers is definitely clinging onto her. After all, she’s his meal ticket.] The boss replied. [Don’t worry. Tonight she’ll go home and come clean. She’ll say the company was caught falsifying accounts and is facing massive fines, and that she might need to serve jail time. [To keep that guy from getting dragged into it, the only option is divorce. He’s as timid as a mouse and will take any chance to flee.] I stared at the screen, stunned, until the cigarette burned my fingers. Ten minutes later, my wife rushed home, panic written all over her face. She dropped her bag on the floor. “Honey, something’s gone wrong with the company’s finances. They’re accusing us of falsifying accounts. I was solely responsible for the accounts. I might need to serve 10 years in prison, plus fines of more than ten thousand dollars. “We need to sign the papers before they seize our house. I don’t want to drag you and mom into this.”

My dad worked as a dishwasher in a restaurant, earning a measly $400 a month. My mom had bad legs, so she could only scrape by collecting trash. When my academically-gifted younger brother was in middle school, they pulled him out of school and made him work to earn extra money so that they could afford to send me to the best school in the state. I didn't let them down and aced my high school, becoming the top student in my state. The day I got my SAT scores was also my birthday. Dad, all hunched over, came to my school with a pink cake, followed by Mom in her tattered clothes and my brother with his face covered in grime. But instead of being grateful, I grabbed a sharp compass and threw it at Dad, drawing blood. "You think you can buy me off with a cake? Get lost! Don't let me see you again!" The principal stared in disbelief. "Yvonne, what are you doing? If it weren't for your family working hard to support you, you wouldn't be this successful!" I held my head high, unperturbed. "So what if I'm the top student in the state? It's no big deal! If they really loved me, they would give me a million dollars so I could live a life of luxury!" Dad's tears hit the ground as he called me an ungrateful brat. Mom wanted to slap me but was held back. Meanwhile, I silently opened the cake box and cut the cake. The next second, everyone was shocked.

During the holiday, I make a rare trip back to my hometown. After dinner, Dad orders me to wash the dishes. I pause for a moment and ask, "Do we not have a caretaker at home?" Mom frowns and says, "Julia works so hard taking care of us every day. Since you are back, you should let her rest. You should be the one doing everything." I fail to fathom the logic behind her reasoning. So, I argue, "I am paying her to be a caretaker here. Is this not exactly what she is hired to do? How does it make sense that I pay and still have to do the chores myself?" My words make the caretaker, Julia Woodard, cry. My parents get angry at me too. The frown on Mom's face becomes even more pronounced. "What's the point of raising you? We barely see you all year. You are not as thoughtful as Julia! At least she stays by our side every day." Dad points at me and scolds, "You might as well stop coming back. From now on, Julia is our real daughter! Go do whatever you want!" I let out a helpless laugh. I am busy working away from home, but I send a large amount of money back every month and even fork out extra money to hire a caretaker for them. But in the end, they think her as their caring daughter and shower her with affection instead. If that's the case, I'll stop sending money and see whether Julia will still act like their "daughter" for free.

My family's mall was running a major New Year's Eve event. My father, the chairman, sent me to oversee the floor as a shareholder. That night, the crowd built past capacity, and a stampede broke out. I was at the bottom of a pile, suffocating. My boyfriend, an executive at the mall, was reaching past me. He was lifting my best friend out of the crowd. She didn't have a scratch on her. He cradled her and disappeared down the corridor. The comms earpiece on my headset stayed on. His voice came through it. "Vivian, are you okay? How could you listen to her? How could you let her drag you somewhere this dangerous?" "Don't worry about her. She’s built tougher than you—she can take it. But you... You’re too delicate to be marked by scars." They got Vivian out. I had a broken rib and was admitted in critical condition. After the dust settled, I asked Cole why he hadn't prioritized me. He looked me in the eye. "Mall events are managed. Look at you. You're fine. This is my promotion window. You're my girlfriend. If I had pulled you out first, that's favoritism. Don't make a scene. Go check on Vivian. She was scared half to death." I tightened my fist under the blanket. I called my father. "Dad. The stampede at Hartline Mall. I'm calling the hearing myself."