Emotional Novels & Stories

On the eve of a surgery, I voluntarily resign from my position as lead surgeon. My colleagues sneer behind my back and mock me openly. "And this guy's supposed to have a PhD from abroad? Looks more like he bought a degree from some no-name university." "Can't even handle a challenge without running—what kind of doctor is that?" In my last life, I gave up competing in a general practitioner skills competition to take on this very surgery. But because the other lead surgeon violated protocol during the operation, it ended in a serious medical accident. My sister, the head of the department, pinned all the blame on me. Even my girlfriend stood firmly on their side, accusing me of incompetence. Overnight, I went from being a respected medical PhD to the disgrace of the hospital. I couldn't prove the mistake wasn't mine. I was fired and faced criminal charges. My parents, once so proud of me, pointed at me in rage. "We don't have a son who plays god with people's lives!" Crushed by shame and despair, I spiraled into deep depression and jumped from the hospital roof. But now, I open my eyes again. I'm back—back to the night before the surgery.

After my family joined hands to send me to prison for three years, I start learning how to behave myself. I do whatever everyone else tells me to do. The day I'm released from prison, my wife, Regina Johnson, sits in the car and says coldly, "If you ever lay those hands of yours on Ty again, I'll…" Before she can say anything else, I jump out of the car, pick up a brick from the side of the road, and smash my hand into a pulp with it. Regina stares at the bone sticking out and goes pale. When we get back home, Tyler Lowe, my adopted younger brother, ambushes me in the bathroom and scoffs. "So what if you're the biological son of the Lowe family? I can just as easily have you kicked out of the family!" Then, he uses a blade to make a small cut on one of his fingers before crying out in alarm, "If you really hate me, Cal, I'll leave right away! Please don't kill me!" Regina and my older sister, Calista Lowe, enter just in time to witness his display. Shaking with anger, they stomp on my wound with their high heels. "You haven't changed one bit! If anything happens to Ty, I'll make you pay for it with your life!" I nod obediently and march straight to the kitchen, where I jump into the massive meat grinder before turning it on. The blood and bits of flesh spray all over Mom and Dad, who end up walking in right then. Mom lets out a shrill shriek before fainting, while Dad forces himself to remain composed as he turns off the power. At this point, even Regina, my sharp-tongued wife, can't find the words to say anything. She stands frozen, her body trembling. When we're inside the ambulance, Tyler clings to Regina, quivering as he says, "This has nothing to do with me! He jumped into the machine himself. You have to believe me!" It's almost impossible for me to stay conscious through the unbearable pain, but I muster the strength to nod along with him. After failing to win over my family, I'd spent three years in prison. Later on, the system told me that if I showed absolute obedience until the day I died, I would receive massive financial compensation and be transported back to my original world.

In my previous life, I was eight months pregnant when my mother-in-law and husband forcibly dragged me to grab decorative gift boxes from the Christmas tree. I told them there was nothing inside, but my mother-in-law slapped me across the face while my husband pulled me into the crowd. A stampede broke out. They clutched their gift boxes and fled to save themselves, while my child and I were trampled to death. They eagerly tore open all the gift boxes with high hopes, only to find exactly nothing, just like I'd warned them. But as I lay dying, I noticed something in the final gift box. A Black Widow spider with an hourglass pattern on its belly crawled onto my mother-in-law's hand. This spider carries deadly venom. Anyone bitten either dies or suffers permanent disability. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on Christmas Day. This time, watching my mother-in-law and husband gear up to fight over those Christmas gift boxes, I won't try to stop them!

On the day of my marriage with the marquis’ heir, the adopted daughter of the marquis threatened to kill herself. William Taylor left me at the altar for her and escaped the wedding. I became the butt of the joke of the entire city. When I saw the mocking gazes of the wedding guests, I immediately announced, “I’ll marry anyone who’s willing to marry me today!” Three years later, William returned with his adoptive sister, Denise Gold. I sat on the couch as I drank tea. William stared at my pregnant belly and asked through clenched teeth. “Whose child are you having?” I took a sip of the tea and smiled. “Of course I’m having a child of this family.”

On Labor Day, my husband worked himself to death in another woman's bed. Halfway through the funeral, my mother-in-law said to me, "Malcolm's gone, but this family still doesn't have an heir. Clara, you're still young. Have a child with Vincent. The sooner the better." I stared at my brother-in-law in his wheelchair, my mind going blank. "But he's Malcolm's brother." "Better to keep it in the family," Nora Stroud said with a smile. "This is my decision. Even if Malcolm were still alive, he'd listen to me." Something in me snapped, and a quiet laugh slipped out. They wanted an heir, didn't they? Fine. Then my father-in-law could have one.

On the very first day after I moved into the neighborhood, my neighbor, Fiona Harper, took me to court. She stood in the courtroom sobbing uncontrollably, accusing my son, Lucas Cole, of assaulting her daughter, Daisy Harper. "My Daisy just turned eighteen, and she was ruined by that sick pervert, Lucas! A piece of trash raised without morals like him deserves the death penalty!" Her daughter also insisted it was my son. "Lucas said if I did not take off my clothes, he would strangle me... I was so scared..." The moment those words were spoken, the spectators acting as the jury erupted in righteous fury, angrily demanding severe punishment for my son. "Animal! Lucas is nothing but an animal!" "Punish him harshly. Do not let that demon get away!" Then the judge summoned my son to appear in court. Everyone present was stunned into silence.

I went to exactly one party in my new, wealthy neighborhood. Then my neighbor Brenda sued me. In court, she held her bruised and battered daughter, Tiffany. She accused my son of rape. Mid-hearing, Tiffany tugged her collar down. Red marks circled her neck. "He tried to rip my pants off," she sobbed. "He tried to force himself on me. I fought back. So he beat me. He ruined my face!" Outside the courthouse, protesters held up signs, calling my son a piece of trash, a spoiled rich kid. Online, a photoshopped memorial of me went viral. The caption read: The unfit mother should die with her son. My company’s stock plummeted. But I just sat there. Stone-faced. I asked for my son, Cooper, to be brought in. The courtroom doors opened. Cooper walked in. Everyone froze.

My stepsister falsely accuses me of causing her allergies to act up. My three brothers stuff me into the cramped cellar and chain the door shut. I pound on the door and beg them to let me out. My eldest brother, an outstanding businessman, snaps, "It's bad enough that you keep bullying Lori. How could you make her eat seafood when you know she's allergic to it? Isn't that just murder? Stay in there and reflect on your mistakes!" My second brother, an award-winning singer, and my third brother, a genius painter, scoff contemptuously. "It's unbelievable that someone as evil as you is making excuses to garner pity. You can stay in there and repent for your sins!" After that, they take our shuddering stepsister to the hospital. The oxygen in the cellar soon runs out, and it gets difficult to breathe. Ultimately, I die in there. My brothers only remember me three days later when they bring our stepsister back from the hospital. Unbeknownst to them, I've already died of asphyxiation.

On my wedding anniversary, I go to Anthony Scroll's company in an attempt to surprise him. No one at the front desk stops me from entering. But what stops me in my tracks is the fact that a photo of me is printed on the welcome mat outside the CEO's office. There's also a sentence printed on the mat that says, "You'll be bestowed with wealth if you step on her face." My hands start trembling out of rage. As soon as I open the door to the office and try to bring up the topic in front of Anthony, Alexis Timmer, a shareholder, as well as one of Anthony's "boys", throws a stack of useless documents at my face instantly. The sharp edges of the papers leave papercuts on my cheek, sending white-hot pain flaring through my senses. Alexis has one leg crossed over the other as she chews on a piece of gum innocently. "Oh, hey Kimberly! Sorry about that. The papers came flying out of my hand for no reason. You see, the programmers are extremely stressed, so the mat is meant for them to vent their stress. "Anthony has agreed to the usage of your photo, by the way. After all, it makes things even livelier for the company. A housewife like you will never understand our niche humor." Anthony takes off his earphones before shooting me a berating glance. Then, he passes a bottle of water to Alexis. "Alex is just like one of the boys. Stop using your own rules to restrict her." As Alexis twists open the bottle cap, she tilts her chin in my direction smugly. "Also, Anthony hates it whenever you show up at the company with your stupid surprises, Kimberly. The food that you bring him always ends up getting eaten by us as a form of punishment."

While I'm waiting for my vasectomy to start, I see a popular question trending on a forum. "What's the best revenge for a man?" An anonymous answer is upvoted all the way to the top of the comment section. "By stealing everything he's proud of while playing the role of his best friend, of course! To be honest with you, this is how I treat my childhood friend, too. "Before he realizes it, his parents already view me as their biological son. The company has bestowed upon me a position that's superior to his. His wife even gave her virginity to me at the new home he had personally decorated and refurnished. His children are actually mine, and they are super clingy to me! "Because of something I said, his wife made him get a permanent vasectomy. He actually agreed to it. At this rate, that bastard will never be able to have his own children!" Some people are shocked, while others don't hesitate to berate the anonymous poster. But the majority of the commenters are more confused than anything. "What sort of deep-rooted grudge do you have against your childhood friend, though? Why is your revenge going this far?" That poster is surprisingly honest. "Actually, it's nothing much. This friend of mine is superior to me in any way since we were kids. But he's also a smug and arrogant one who doesn't really seem to care about anything at all. "I don't like that attitude of his, so I've come up with this scheme and stolen everything from him. Take now, for example. He's waiting for his vasectomy procedure at the hospital, while I'm hugging his wife right now. In fact, I plan on depleting this entire box of contraceptives!" The latest photo the online poster has uploaded shows a box containing 13 condoms. As for the background, it happens to be my home.