Emotions Running High

Just because I ate one chicken leg more than my brother, my father kicked me out of the house in the middle of a snowstorm. Later on, my father of an archeologist dug up my body. Due to my missing head, he did not recognize me. Even when he saw that the body had the same scars as I did, he did not care. Later on, my mother dug out my heart and showed it to her students. "Today, we will study the heart of someone with congenital heart disease." She once said she would recognize me no matter what I looked like. Mom, now that the only thing left of me is my heart, do you still recognize me?

I become unemployed when I'm four months pregnant, and my husband asks that we become independent of each other in our marriage. We manage our own finances and pay for our own expenses. Even when I'm suffering from major blood loss during labor, he's unwilling to pay to save my life. My child and I both lose our lives. When I open my eyes, I find that I'm back to the day my husband asks that we become independent of each other. I readily agree. What he doesn't know is that I can morph into a seahorse and transfer the baby to his body so he can carry it to term.

The moment I was born, my mother implanted a chip in my brain and began shaping me into her idea of a perfect daughter. She blocked my sense of hunger so I would only have simple meals daily to maintain the "ideal" figure. She erased my ability to feel pain so she could inject me with endless chemicals to keep my skin smooth and flawless. She tampered with my senses, deleting every trace of negative emotion from my mind, all so I could remain eternally innocent. I couldn't tell right from wrong. I didn't know sadness or anger. I only knew how to smile. When the neighbor's dog died, I smiled and was scolded harshly for being heartless. When my classmates bullied me, I smiled and became the class freak. When my grandfather passed away, I smiled again, and my relatives cursed me for being soulless. Eventually, my father couldn't take it anymore. He left us. Mom, however, didn't seem to care. "They don't understand," she told me. "Everything I've done is for your own good. One day, you'll thank me." … On my 18th birthday, she planned a grand live broadcast, ready to show the world her perfect creation. She never knew that the day before her grand broadcast, I had already lost myself completely. By then, I was no longer human. I had become a machine.

My mom is a famous perfumer who's well-known in town. But her perfumes are charged per session. One session costs 200 thousand dollars. She only takes in ten customers per month, too. Those who have used the perfumes my mom has concocted will be enveloped by the perfumes' unique fragrance that leaves an unforgettable impression on those who have smelled it. In fact, the fragrance is capable of covering up the customers' body odor, no matter how strong it is. One session will leave the customers with enough fragrance that lasts for a month. Countless celebrities and rich women specifically travel to this town just to frequent my mom's business. Everyone sings praises about my mom, claiming that she's the mistress of all fragrances who's here to bless humanity with her gift. But I know that my mom isn't as amazing as everyone thinks she is. The only reason why her business is booming like this is all thanks to the "thing" that she keeps locked up in that room…

My dormmate has dropped out of college to get married. Before that, she shares a livestream link on the college forum. She claims her husband has cheated on her, and she wants to stream how she punishes the homewrecker. She asks everyone to share the link and hype the situation up. I don't take her words to heart. To my surprise, she barges into my house with a group of people that afternoon. She trashes the place and screams bloody murder at me. It seems she thinks I'm the homewrecker. It's only from her words that I understand her rich and handsome husband is my father. Well, since she's caused such a scene, it looks like her darling is going to lose his job and leave this family without a penny to his name.

When the power meter in the house trips, Mom's foster daughter, Juniper Hawthorne, is trapped in the dark for five minutes. Even though I have claustrophobia, Mom locks me in an empty, pitch-black room. "You knew Juniper was terrified of the dark, yet you intentionally shut off the power just to frighten her! I'll teach you how to behave today!" I cry and beg her not to, but all I receive in return is a harsh slap. "Claustrophobia? That's just what happens when a kid grows up too spoiled." Late that night, I sense someone breaking into the house. The first thing I do is to call Mom, a renowned criminal psychologist, for help, only to be yelled at. "You're still really getting into this role just to fight Juniper for attention, aren't you? "Kidnappers, huh? Well, go ahead and die so you'll stop bothering me!" As she wishes, I'm brutally tortured and killed. My body is buried beneath Mom's favorite flowerbed. After I die, my soul is trapped in the body of a cat. All I can do is helplessly circle Mom until five days have passed. The police arrive with a mangled body and request her help in creating a portrait of the killer.

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!”

Ang mga magulang ko, ang pinakamayaman na magkasintahan sa bansa, ay sikat na mga pilantropo. Kailangan ko hingin ang permiso nila kung kailangan ko gumastos ng higit pa sa limang dolyar. Sa araw na nadiagnose ako ng terminal cancer, humingi ako ng 100 dolyar, pero sa halip na tulungan ako, sinigawan nila ako ng tatlong oras. “Anong klaseng sakit ang makukuha mo sa edad mo? Kung hihingi ka lang ng pera, galingan mo naman sa palusot mo.” “Alam mo ba na ang 100 dolyar ay kayang suportahan ang mga bata sa naghihirap na mga lugar ng matagal na panahon? Mas may sense pa kausap ang kapatid mo kaysa sa iyo.” Kinaladkad ko ang katawan ko na may sakit pabalik sa maliit na basement. Pero noong dumaan ako sa mall, nakita ko ang mga magulang ko, live sa malaking screen, gumagastos ng malaking yaman para lang rentahan ang Disneyland para sa kapatid ko. Ang isang daang dolyar ay hindi sapat para sa isang round ng chemotherapy. Gusto ko lang bumili ng bagong damit at lisanin ang mundo ng may dignidad.

On New Year's Eve, my husband, Max Davis, took me to a private dinner hosted by a big industry player. We had barely made our way around the room when a strange woman suddenly shoved me into the pool. When I insisted on checking the surveillance footage and calling the police, Max firmly held me back. He warned me to "remember my place" and not embarrass him in front of everyone. In the brief time I changed into another gown, I returned to find that same woman perched on my husband's lap, her red lipstick leaving traces on his collar. "Max, you're right! That nasty scar on her stomach really does look like a centipede. It's so hideous!" She giggled with mock innocence, adding, "It's been so fun messing with your wife. Next time, can I slap her when no one's looking?" Meanwhile, Max gazed at her like she was the only woman in the world, gently tracing his finger over her nose. "Of course, you can," he replied, eyes still locked on hers. "I'll even tie her hands behind her back for you."

I struggle with all my might, but Dad restrains me, and Mom breaks my limbs. Then, my sister seals me into the concrete. "Concrete is only brought to life with an actual person sealed inside. It looks so much more defined! It's not like you'll die after being sealed in there for a few days. How can you be so insensible?" The pain of having my limbs broken and my oxygen being cut off leads to me dying within that block of concrete. My body rots and festers inside, but my soul sticks around to watch how my parents dote on their adoptive child. They seem to be happy without me. Finally, I lose all hope in them. But when the liquid from my body seeps out of the concrete, they all lose their minds.