Emotional Novels & Stories

When I was three years old, I was picked on while scavenging dumpsters for recyclables, so I spent fifty cents to “hire” a pair of punk bikers to back me up. Little did I know that I had stumbled into the city’s most untouchable family. My adoptive mother was a fearless street queen no one in the elite circle dared cross, and my adoptive father was the legendary prince of the underground street-racing world. She taught me how to stand my ground, while he taught me how to own the streets. That fifty-cent “protection fee” bought me eighteen years of absolute security. Later, my biological parents found me, and I learned I was the real daughter of the billionaire Sedgewick family. But on the day I returned home, the fake daughter refused to let me inside. She looked down at me with a sneer and told me to use the back door instead. I stayed where I was. My older brother glared at me. “It’s just the back door. Don’t push your luck. You should be grateful Jenna is even willing to acknowledge you.” Meanwhile, my younger brother scoffed, his face twisted with disdain. “How dare a lowlife like you give my sister attitude? Use the back door!” I turned to my biological parents, but they merely said, “Jenna has a temper. She’s upset you came back, so just let her have this. Nothing matters more than keeping the family together.” I looked at the confrontational faces before me without any expression, then took out my phone and typed a message. [Mom, Dad, the Sedgewick family crossed the line. Come and handle it now.]

My stepson, Lucas Lincoln, is trapped in a fire. After calling the fire brigade, I quickly ring my husband, Jasper Lincoln. Jasper is the leader of a search-and-rescue team, after all. But to my dismay, Jasper is currently keeping his ex-wife, Yvonne Schmidt, company. Yvonne has won the "Forensic Doctor of the Year" award, and so they are out celebrating it. My phone calls are rejected again and again. Jasper never once calls me back, even after Lucas' cries for help disappear entirely. By the time the fire brigade arrives to quell the flames, Lucas has been burned to a crisp. I tell Jasper what happened to our son, but he only gleefully says, "He was nothing but a troublemaker who'd contribute nothing to society. If he's dead, then so be it. This way, he won't grow up to become a menace. "Yvonne happens to be giving a public talk tomorrow and is still in need of a specimen demonstrating burn injuries. She can use Noah's corpse for her demonstration since it's still fresh." I sneer. So Jasper thinks that my own son, Noah Green, is the one who died in the fire. I immediately send Lucas' blackened corpse to Yvonne's operating room.

Our family is planning a ski trip at a luxury resort. However, my mother gives my snow-view room to my adoptive sister and makes me, her biological daughter, stay in the storage room. I'm about to protest when my father and brother accuse me of being selfish. "We've always given Madie the best of everything; she won't be able to sleep in any other room." "Madie is our family—she's the one who's lived with us this whole time. We're a family, so we have to stay together." I'm the one who shares their blood, yet they consider me an outsider. If that's the case, they can go on vacation without me. I board a cruise and travel the world for a month without ever going home. That's when they panic.

On the day we finalized our college applications, I chose Cromwell University. The moment my brother saw it, his expression turned icy. Before I even understood what was happening, everything went black. When I woke up, I was trapped inside a glass box. All because our cousin Wendy had failed to get into Cromwell. To make it up to her, he ordered his men to carry me to an underground auction, putting me on display for a hundred strangers to gawk at for entertainment. I pounded on the glass, crying and begging for someone, anyone, to let me out. No one came. Men gathered around, their gazes shameless and invasive, murmuring to each other as if I were an object, something to be assessed and priced. My brother stood among them, watching. Then he smiled. "You brought this on yourself," he said lightly. "You had everything, our parents' support and my protection, and still you went after Wendy. You even had someone threaten her. "Because of you, she missed her exams. Because of you, she lost Cromwell." He took a step closer, his voice turning colder. "Your life's been too easy. It's time you learned what it feels like to be humiliated." I sank to the floor of the glass box, my body trembling, my mind going blank. While I was being reduced to nothing, he booked an entire resort in Wendy's honor, hosting a grand celebration for her acceptance to Halvard University. Later, when our parents called and asked him to bring me along, his assistant interrupted with a message. "Mr. Lawson… the police have confirmed Miss Kelly's death."

I emptied my savings to buy the home where my boyfriend and I were supposed to start our married life. On the first day after the renovation was finished, his mother appeared at the door carrying two overstuffed duffel bags. "Marcus said half of this house belongs to him, so we decide to move in here." I stood in the living room I had paid to renovate, staring at the jars of homemade preserves inside his mother's bags and at his younger brother swaggering toward a bedroom with his suitcase. Marcus Caldwell only smiled. "Jules, my mom has a bad back. I'll have her stay in the primary bedroom. If you can't put up with this now, how are we supposed to build a life together?"

At the robotics competition, my daughter, Lily, was about to receive her award when a well-dressed man suddenly stood up from his seat. His name was Ryan Smith. "I remember your school has a rule. A donation of five hundred thousand dollars will earn a student an extra ten points in the year's competition. This card has five hundred thousand dollars on it, so first prize belongs to my son!" Everyone froze. The teacher hesitated for a moment, then nodded. Lily stood onstage, unsure what to do. "But I'm the real first-place winner!" Ryan's son, Jack Smith, gave her a scornful look. "It doesn't matter how hard you work, Lily Sanders. I have a rich mother, so the chance to train at a top laboratory can only be mine." Lily was so anxious that she was close to tears. I stepped forward, took her hand, and smiled at the father and son, who held their heads high with pride. I asked, "You said the card has five hundred thousand dollars on it. Why don't we verify that right now?" Ryan nodded proudly. "Of course. My wife has more money than she can spend. Run the card now." My smile deepened. The card he held was definitely an authorized supplementary card for my bank account. It was the card I had given my wife for her allowance!

On my birthday, all because I spent ten bucks, Dad drags me out to kneel in front of the store owners. "Go beg them to give us a refund!" Tears burst from my eyes, but he doesn't give me a chance to fight back. Just like that, he forces me to kneel my way down the street, from the candy shop at one end to the stationery store at the other. Piece by piece, we return everything until we get the ten dollars back. A crowd gathers around us, pointing and whispering. The color drains from my burning face. Once we get home, Dad pulls out a yellowed bankbook and points at the balance with a blank stare. "Read it. How much is that?" I grit my teeth and force the words out. "T-Twelve dollars." Dad finally snaps. He slams the bankbook against my chest as his voice cracks with bitter disappointment. "Then do you have any idea how long it takes your mom and me to save the ten bucks you blew today? Joshua Kirkland, you are a massive disappointment! We are poor. Don't you ever forget that!" I sob and tell him I understand, promising never to spend another dime. The next day, I cough up blood at school, and the school doctor asks if I need to go to the hospital. I squeeze the bloody tissue in my hand and choke back a sob. "I can't go. My parents don't have the money…"

When I'm in my senior year of high school, my mom, Bethany Stout, is diagnosed with uremia. Even after our family sells the house, we are still 300,000 dollars short on the dialysis fee. I pack my bags overnight, ready to go to work on an assembly line at an electronics factory. The class belle, Natasha Ferris, grabs my shirt tightly at the train station ticket gate. She's someone who usually blushes even when speaking a little loudly, but that day she forces a bank card into my hand. "The password is your birthday. Consider the money a loan. You're not allowed to miss the SAT." I say I may never be able to pay this money back in my entire life. With red-rimmed eyes, she scolds me, "Then pay me back slowly, but you cannot ruin your life just like this." Throughout the four years of college, she transfers me 800 dollars for food every single month without fail, and the note is always "eat more meat". Mom survives the kidney transplant surgery, and I also secure a guaranteed admission and enter a top-tier company. But Natasha cuts off all contact without any warning. Eight years later, I am the youngest partner at the major company, with an annual salary of ten million dollars. Yet, Natasha's name appears in a mockery video of a local matchmaking group. "Not only is this woman already 30 years old and has a sick mother, but she's also demanding 100,000 dollars as a wedding gift? Is she crazy or what?" When I watch the person in the video wearing old clothes, head lowered while enduring people's criticism, my eyes sting with tears. I push aside the signing ceremony for a ten-million-dollar project and pick up the bank card and my Social Security card. This time, it is my turn to catch Natasha when she falls.

The day I was finally welcomed back into the Salazar family, Nathaniel Salazar—the frail adopted son they'd raised in my place—died from heart failure. My sister, Alyssa, shaved her head and withdrew from the world, claiming she wanted to soothe Nathaniel's restless soul. My parents had lost two children in a single night, and they blamed me for both. To make amends, they decided my heart would one day be donated to a distant young relative suffering from the same condition. After all, that little boy had been Nathaniel's favorite person in the world. From that day on, I was forbidden from drinking, smoking, staying up late, or doing anything that might damage my health. They called it redemption for my brother. For ten years, I lived like a spare part, a replacement waiting for the day I would finally be needed. Then, three days before the transplant surgery, I saw Nathaniel in the hospital. He was alive. He was curled up against Alyssa's shoulder, acting spoiled while our parents watched with indulgent smiles. Alyssa gently stroked his hair. "Don't be scared, Nathaniel. Jordan's healthy heart will be yours soon. After this, you'll never be sick again." I lowered my eyes to the results of my pre-surgery examination: stage IV stomach cancer with multiple organ failure. Not a single organ was suitable for transplantation.

While we're applying to colleges, everyone gathers around my younger twin brother, Kevin Winslow, and launches into a discussion. Our older sister, Natasha Winslow, points at a brochure. "Of course, you're going to Whetford University. Come to my school, and I'll look out for you." Our childhood friend, Claire Linwood, shoves an Ellerby College brochure at him. "Don't listen to Natasha. Let's go to Ellerby together and be classmates for four more years." Our parents smile in agreement. "Yes, you should go to the capital. We can sleep better at night knowing someone's looking out for you." A long while later, they finally remember that I'm about to go to college as well. "Kyle, with your bad grades, you can just apply to any college in Valefront." Natasha doesn't even look up when she replies, "That's right. All four of us will be in the same city, so we can meet up on weekends." Claire nags out of habit, "Applications won't stay open forever. Make sure you don't get left behind." I slowly tighten my grip on the mouse. The computer screen is still displaying my application draft. In the make-believe sessions in our childhood, Kevin has always played the prince everyone adored. Natasha has been the loyal holy maiden, while Claire has been the brave princess. But I can only ever be the evil dragon everyone hates. Turns out, even now when we're grown up, things haven't changed. Since no one likes me anyway, I decide to apply to a college that's furthest away from home. From now on, I have a whole life ahead of me, so I won't dwell on the past anymore.