Emotional Rollercoaster Novels & Stories

On New Year's Eve, my girlfriend of three years, Gina Jarrey, invited me to her place for dinner with her family. Before I could even take a bite, she drugged me and left me half-conscious. She mumbled, "If we don't pay them back, they're going to cut off my brother's hand. I had no other choice but to hand you over. Don't blame me for this. You're just unlucky for having a face identical to the man Ms. Carmelia Sanders is obsessed with. Once my brother's gambling debts are cleared, you might even end up living the high life. It's a win-win!" My mind drifted in and out as her entire family handed me over and sent me to a mansion that looked eerily familiar. First of all, unless I was mistaken, this place belonged to my aunt. Second, she had an extreme brother complex and had never liked any man other than Dad. And finally, years ago, a distant relative of mine got sent off to work in the mines in Frongo just for rolling his eyes at Dad. So really, who was the unlucky one getting delivered to my aunt's doorstep? Oh my, what a tough mystery to solve.

On the eve of Thanksgiving, I stumbled across a post online. "Selling an online girlfriend—5'7", 100 pounds, absolute knockout. We already agreed to meet at Aureline Hotel. She's a virgin too. Just transfer me 8000." At first, I thought it was some ridiculous troll post, but when I clicked in, I realized the guy was serious. Quite a few men in the comments had already messaged him privately. My stomach churned, and I exited the post in disgust. Right then, a message came in from my long-distance boyfriend, Hayden Clarke. "Naomi, you don't need to pick me up at the station. Just go straight to Aureline Hotel, Room 1008." I could not stop thinking about the post I had just seen, so I went back and read it carefully again. That was when I realized the "online girlfriend" they were talking about… was me. Before I could even reply to Hayden, I received a threatening text from his female best friend instead. "You slut! You're the reason Hayden ditched us on Thanksgiving! Tell me, where are you two going?!" I quirked a brow in response. This was not the first time his so-called best friend had tried to ruin our dates. But since she was so desperate to know, the big surprise Hayden had prepared would just have to be saved for her instead.

My billionaire parents, Gerald Voight and Diane Westwood, were afraid my sister, Claire Voight, and I would grow spoiled if we stayed in luxury, so they pulled us out of the city's best prep school and sent us to study in a remote mountain town. On the way there, locals knocked us unconscious and sold us into a brutal trafficking ring. I found a way to contact my parents and begged them to save us, but they said I was lying. "Being sent to the mountains means you were trafficked? You really were raised too soft. You can't handle even a little hardship." "Kids there get into college by fighting their way out. Learn to do the same. Stop depending on us for everything." They blocked my sister's number and mine before I could explain. To survive, my sister and I escaped after three days without food, but when we tried to buy tickets out of the county, the ticket clerk refused us. "Sorry, miss. We've received instructions from the Voight family. You're not allowed to leave the county by any method, unless it's for college." We couldn't get away. The traffickers dragged us back. Later, my sister died from the tortures in a filthy basement. I was luckier. At my last breath, undercover anti-trafficking officers found me. I held my sister's ashes and fled to the farthest city from home. Then our cousin, Jenna Reed, posted a photo from her overseas school. [Uncle Gerald and Aunt Diane are just like my real parents. They give me the best love.] She tagged me on purpose, the way she always did, hoping I'd be provoked into questioning her. This time, I only liked the post and replied: [If you're willing, they can be your real parents. You can be their only daughter.]

I was a top ER nurse at the city hospital. Over the years, I helped save thousands of lives. During my day off, I received an urgent call from my department chief. “Zayn, there’s a child at a daycare near your neighborhood suffering from a severe allergic reaction. The ambulance is stuck in traffic. Please get over there immediately and administer first aid.” I grabbed my emergency kit and rushed to the daycare. When I arrived, one of the teachers falsely accused me of being a child trafficker. He shoved me aside and shouted, “He’s a trafficker. Do not let him touch the child.” Furious and desperate, I pulled up my digital nursing license. “I am an ER nurse. If you keep stopping me, this child could die.” He insisted my credentials were fake, and I had no choice but to wait for the ambulance. When the ambulance finally arrived to take the child to the hospital, the teacher jumped in again. He claimed we were working together and refused to let us leave. Everything changed when the child’s mother arrived with a DNA test report in her hand. His entire world collapsed in an instant.

I head over to my boyfriend, Skylar Reynold's house during the holidays to pay his family a visit. Skylar's mother, Helen Benett, smiles and says to me in front of everyone, "According to our rules, a future daughter-in-law must give cash gifts to all the children and elderly people in the family in her first year here. You must give every person at least 200 dollars to show how generous you are." I'm stunned, to say the least. Skylar nudges me before murmuring, "It's just a few thousand dollars, isn't it? Doesn't the holiday bonus that you've received before the holidays cover everything?" I look at the living room, where 15 children and 8 elderly people are present. That makes it 4,600 dollars—the same figure that I've received after the taxes are deducted from the bonus. I let out a soft chuckle at that moment. Then, I turn to look at Helen. "According to your rules, Mrs. Reynold, I shall be the one giving away the cash gifts. But according to my family's rules, the groom's family has to give the bride's family cash gifts as well. The cash gifts must be doubled so that our marriage will be graced by luck. "It'll be 9,200 dollars altogether. Would you like to pay me in cash, or are you going to transfer it into my account?"

My mother suffered a heart attack. We had to pay a deposit of thirty thousand dollars before she could receive bypass surgery. I borrowed money from all my relatives and friends and scraped together this life-saving sum. When I was queuing to pay the fee, my husband said, “Why don’t you go get your mom some water to keep her hydrated? I’ll wait in line and handle the payment.” When I returned with the cup of water, I saw him giving the stack of cash to a family member of a patient he had just met. “Hey, we crossed paths for a reason, man. Take this for now. You clearly need it more. We’re fine on our end, trust me,” he said boastfully and patted his chest. He had always been a show-off. A nurse stood outside the resuscitation room with a consent form in her hand as she shouted for a family member to sign. My mother’s heart monitor had already gone flat.

I was born with an intellectual disability and congenital analgesia, the inability to feel pain. Since I was a child, I had been the human punching bag who took beatings meant for my younger sister. Whenever my sister was caught sneaking snacks, Mom would grab me by the hair and slam my head against the wall. Blood would run down my face from my head, yet I never made a sound. When my sister was caught cheating in an exam, Mom whipped me with a belt the entire afternoon. My skin split and my flesh torn, yet I could still manage a smile. Every time she saw me covered in injuries, my sister would throw her arms around me tightly and cry her eyes out. She would say she was wrong and promise never to misbehave again. Mom would be pleased at that, convinced she had disciplined us well. And so, for sixteen years, I had endured every punishment meant for my sister. Until the latest monthly exam, when my sister dropped a place in the rankings. Mom called her over as usual and, out of habit, she raised her hand toward me. The slap sent the back of my head crashing into the corner of a cabinet, and blood spilled across the floor. Through my fading consciousness, I saw Mom nodding in satisfaction and pulling my sister, who was wailing her heart out, to her feet. “There, there. Stop crying. You’ve had your punishment. Let’s go eat something nice and calm yourself.” Watching their retreating figures, my eyelids grew heavier by the second. It seemed to hurt a little this time. I’d better get well soon… After all, they’d need me again the next time my sister made another mistake.

On the day of our wedding, my fiancé, Shawn Chandler, insisted that I wear a bridesmaid’s dress while having a million-dollar wedding gown custom-made for his childhood sweetheart. “Jessica said she wants to fulfill her dream of wearing a wedding dress. She’s been looking forward to seeing me get married since she was little.” I threw the bridesmaid’s dress into the trash. His expression darkened as he scolded me, “Why are you so unreasonable? Even if you wear a bridesmaid’s dress, you’ll still be the bride. And if it weren’t for the fact that you’re pregnant, I wouldn’t be marrying you at all!” Placing my hand over my belly, I slammed the door and left. That night, he posted wedding photos with Jessica Jordan on his social media. Five years later, Shawn and I met again at a charity gala. He was invited as a specially invited donor, with Jessica by his side in a custom designer gown. The two behaved intimately. When he saw me crouching in a corner sorting a donated box of old clothes, he frowned and walked over. “Tiana Larrinson, you refused to wear that bridesmaid’s dress back then, and now, you’ve fallen so low that you’re rummaging through other people’s old clothes? “Look at you, sneaking into events like this by picking through scraps. You should’ve just listened to me back then.” I was confused, and it took me a long time to remember who he was. What he did not know was that the items up for auction at this charity gala were my and my daughter's old clothes.

In my previous life, my best friend gave me a lock-shaped good-luck pendant. I never expected that once I put it on, it would never come off. Soon after, I came down with a fever that lasted seven days straight. When I finally woke up, everything in my life began to fall apart. Misfortune followed me everywhere. That was when I discovered the truth—I had swapped fates with her husband. He would get my wealth while I would get a short, ill-fated life. From then on, the two of them lived a life of effortless wealth, making money without even lifting a finger. Meanwhile, I sank into poverty, plagued by constant bad luck. I struggled through life and did not even make it to 30 before I was killed in a car accident. As I died, my mentally disabled younger brother cried out and rushed in front of me to shield me. However, he could not stop the incoming vehicle, and we died there together. When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn back to the moment she was about to put the pendant on me. I let out a cold smile and pondered. Since she was so desperate to steal my wealthy fate, then she could have a XYY husband instead.

I was the son of the wealthiest man in Capital City, but I had never enjoyed the flattery and fake smiles that came with that title. All I had ever wanted was a normal life. Now that I was pushing twenty-eight and still single, my mom finally lost her patience. She gave me an ultimatum: go on a blind date or she’d disown me. On my way to the date, I passed by a luxury boutique and spotted a watch that immediately caught my eye. I was just about to pay for it when, out of nowhere, a man barged in from behind and slapped a black card down on the counter. “I’ll take this watch. Wrap it up for me,” he said. I stayed calm and said politely, “Sir, I saw this watch first.” However, he just scoffed and snapped back, full of arrogance, “A broke nobody like you can look but not afford it. Get lost. I’m the assistant to Ms. Jackson, the CEO of Jackson Group. In this city, if I want something, no one will fight me for it.” Ms. Jackson? Isn’t that the exact woman I was supposed to be meeting for the blind date? Without another word, I pulled out my phone and dialed her number. “Selena,” I said calmly, “do you know your assistant is out here throwing your name around to bully people?”