Emotional Stories Novels & Stories

After joining the nation's top research lab as a sophomore, everyone assumes I've taken shortcuts to get there. Mom throws away the handmade gift I had spent days crafting and says with disdain, "I don't have a daughter who's this shameless." Andreas Fitzgerald, my fiance, doesn't hold back, either. He warns coldly, "Remember your place as Mrs. Fitzgerald." Later, when my younger sister, Elaine Wilde, destroys my left hand, they all pressure me to drop the matter. I wake up in the hospital, pain crawling up my arm, and I know exactly what I have to do. Without hesitation, I dial my mentor, George Landon's, number. "I'm ready to join the classified national rocket program."

My daughter, Wendy Lawson, was a rising star in the piano world. But on the day of the piano competition grand finals, someone locked her in a restroom. She was so shaken she missed her chance at the championship. I checked the CCTV footage and found out exactly who was behind it. I was ready to file a formal complaint for malicious sabotage. But my husband stepped in and shut me down cold. “It was just a squabble between two kids. If you report Theresa’s sister, I’ll make sure Wendy doesn’t even get second place!” I was so furious my whole body trembled. I never imagined Phillip would go this far to bully his own daughter to protect his secretary’s sister! Just then, Wendy held onto my hand as she fought back tears. “Mom, I don’t want the championship anymore… and I don’t want Dad either.” I tightened my grip around her small hand. “All right. If you do not want him, then I do not want him either!”

My husband was praised by my friends as the perfect husband in the world. Everyone said he loved me to death and practically put me on a pedestal. Then came my prenatal checkup. My older cousin, Catherina Bow, called him with a farewell message before attempting suicide. Without hesitation, he abandoned me and rushed off in panic. I was six months pregnant at that time. My mother expected me to be the bigger person and “lend” my husband to Catherina, who was depressed. My brother snapped at me, "The only reason you’re still in this house is because Catherina spoke up for you. Whatever she wants, you should give it to her!" I found it absurd. I was supposed to be their family. She was nothing but a cuckoo in my nest. When I finally decided to walk away from all of them, they regretted their actions.

When I was ten, I bugged my brother to come home for my birthday. He died in a plane crash that day. They never found his body. After that, my parents saw me as a total screw-up. They blamed me for his death. Every year on his memorial day, they forced me to kneel at the cemetery and repent my mistakes. I did that for eight years. I figured I'd spend my whole life paying for it. But on my 18th birthday, some creep stalked and murdered me. Right before I died, I tried calling for help. But my mom chewed me out. "I bet you're just dodging your duty to make up for James. You're full of crap. If you hadn't forced him to come back, he would have been alive. This is what you deserve." She hung up, leaving me staring at the dead screen. My last hope was dashed. She was right. Someone like me meant nothing but bad luck to those around me. I didn't deserve to exist. But then, eight years after his death, James showed up with his pregnant wife. When they heard I was gone, they fell apart.

During a kindergarten parent-teacher conference, a rich wife accuses me of stealing her bag. I'm baffled. I bought the bag myself abroad, and it even has my name etched on it. However, when I scrutinize the bag, I discover that my name is missing. I call my husband, and he impatiently says, "I gave your bag to Jen. She's fresh out of college and needs an expensive bag to make herself look good. Even Finn said the bag is too young for you—it suits Jen more. You're too old for these things. You should be glad to even have a fake one." I bark out an exasperated laugh. I can go without having a husband, but the bag has to be returned to me.

In my past life, my sister's secret lover says he wants to see a meteor shower. So, she takes all the family bodyguards and drives out to the countryside to create a romantic night under the stars for him. But she doesn't realize that an old enemy she once ruined sees the opening. They break into our home, seeking revenge and planning to wipe out the entire family. My mother throws herself over me to protect me, taking the brunt of the attack. She's critically injured and is barely hanging on. I call my sister again and again, begging her to come home. She eventually returns with the bodyguards, but it's too late. The enemies are caught, but then news comes in from the outskirts—her lover has disappeared, leaving behind a suicide note. In it, he blames me, accusing me of deliberately luring my sister away so that he would suffer at the hands of her enemies. Ultimately, he takes his own life. My sister burns the letter without a flicker of emotion. She says, "Don’t overthink it." Later, the blame falls on her. Our father promises to hand the family business over to me. But after the celebration banquet, my sister murders me in the bedroom. She stares at me with a blank face and snarls, "Someone as cruel as you should've died long ago. It should've been you who died, and the family inheritance should've been mine!" I die with a heart full of rage and disbelief. When I open my eyes again, I hear our enemies breaking down the villa doors.

My mother is hospitalized due to a terminal illness. She's in urgent need of a kidney transplant to save her life. I'm the only one who can perform the surgery, but I give the kidney to a stranger. My father and husband get on their knees before me on the day of the surgery. They beg me to save my mother. However, I shrug and say, "I can't do anything about this. A life is a life, regardless of who the person is. This is what she gets for coming late—death is waiting for her."

My future mother-in-law loved to twist the truth. She gave me 1,300 dollars as the wedding fund, then told everyone it was 130,000. All she did was take me to a jewelry store to try on a few pieces, yet she went around bragging that she had spent tens of thousands on me. I told myself it was fine. I was going to spend my life with my husband, not her. So I swallowed it. Until the night before the wedding. We had a minor argument, and he let it slip without thinking. "My family already spent 150,000 dollars just to marry you. What else do you want? "We've spent 130,000 just for the wedding. Anyone who didn't know better would think your family was selling a daughter." For a second, I could not even speak. That money had never passed through his hands. Both families had sat down and discussed it together. However, he believed every word his mother had said. He really thought I had taken some outrageously expensive wedding gifts. That was when it finally sank in how wrong I had been. So when my future mother-in-law sent me a pathetic 1,000 dollars for the wedding banquet, while telling everyone she had given me 15,000, I stopped holding back. On the wedding day, I swapped out the luxury banquet for instant noodles. Then, I played her stingy little transfer on a loop for all the guests to see.

After reuniting with my birth family, my wealthy biological father tossed me a black card and laid down one rule: I could spend as much as I wanted, but I was never to call him Dad—that title belonged only to his adoptive daughter. Clutching the black card, I cautiously bought myself a two-dollar-fifty ice cream cone. Just as I was happily licking the sweet ice cream, the adoptive daughter dropped to her knees before me. "Alice, are you mocking me because I can't even afford something that costs two-fifty in the future?" My brother immediately slapped me twice. "You have money now, but you can't split love. Natalie is my one and only sister!" Then my father splashed boiling water onto my face. "No disgraceful wretch deserves to be a Gervais." To punish me, they sent me off to Rimala, forced to work as a child laborer in the mines. Ten years later, I walked into a grand banquet hall with an ice cream in hand and came face-to-face with my brother, Ansel Gervais, dressed in a hand-tailored suit. "All these years and you're still a disgrace," he sneered, but I couldn't be bothered to argue. "Let go. My dad's waiting for me—and if I'm any later, the ice cream's going to melt." He looked down at me with contempt. "Dad? Who gave you permission to call him that? Natalie will forever be the only Gervais girl—no one can take that away from her!" I rolled my eyes. Who said I was talking about that cheap excuse for a father? I was talking about my adoptive father—the oil tycoon with an incurable sweet tooth. I was in a hurry to let him taste some ice cream.

In my second year running the company, my high school class monitor suddenly started tagging me nonstop in the group chat. [Alice, Vivian was only joking with you back then. Why won't you come to her party? Are you trying to make her feel guilty?] I didn't understand what was going on. Only after reading the messages did I realize that our class beauty, Vivian Spencer, had recently found her biological parents—and today, she had thrown a party to announce it to the world. Me: [I'm busy.] I had no intention of attending a party hosted by someone who used to bully me. But my answer didn't shut them up. Instead, it stirred up even more absurd speculation. [Don't tell me you're doing some kind of labor job and can't take leave?] [We're all former classmates. If you show up, I'll give you sixty dollars. That should cover two days of your salary.] Vivian chimed in as well. [Alice, it was just a joke back then. And I'd already dropped out by then. Why can't you let it go?] I stared at her message for a long moment before typing: [Only trash would call bullying a joke.] The group exploded instantly. [Vivian's no trash! She's a wealthy heiress. She's not even in the same league as you. Poor people really love to nitpick.] Vivian, ever the hypocrite, tried to smooth things over. [No matter what, today marks a new beginning for me. I hope you'll come to witness it. [We're classmates, after all. I don't hold it against you for forcing me to drop out. If you're short on money, I can even ask my dad to arrange a job for you.] Then she sent a screenshot of her chat with her father. When I saw her father's profile picture, I froze. Wasn't that the same profile picture as my freeloading dad? But I look seventy percent like my mom—it's impossible for me to be a fake daughter. And Vivian was two months younger than me. I let out a laugh. "Alright, I'll definitely attend your recognition party."