Lirik Lagu Pure Imagination Novels & Stories

At my wedding with my childhood sweetheart, Zoe Sutherland, I see live comments in front of my eyes all of a sudden. "This is so funny! The male supporting lead doesn't even know that the bride is a fake one! The actual female lead, Zoe, is actually keeping the male lead company in the hospital!" "It doesn't matter who the bride is! The female lead just wants to get married for the sake of her company's funds! After all, this story is about childhood sweetheart losing to the true love who's come out of nowhere!" "The female lead will end up screwing the male supporting lead's life over. Jeez, now I feel a little bad for him." Concealing the shock in my eyes, I go through the rest of the wedding while pretending to be kept in the dark about the truth. I don't want to become the stepping stone that will tie the two main leads together as the cannon fodder who dies a horrible death. Since Zoe doesn't want to marry me at all, I might as well marry the fake bride for real.

Ever since I was born, my parents bound me to a Pain Transfer System. My body was covered in scars. My older brother, Dylan Jeater, had albinism and Hydroa Vacciniforme. His condition was so severe that he could not be exposed to any light. Doctors determined that he would only live to be sixteen years old. However, Dylan had always been playful. He often snuck outside. Eventually, his body was covered in sores. My father, Robert Jeater, worked day and night to earn money. He finally bought two Pain Transfer System wristbands at a high price for Dylan and me. For six years, the pain Dylan felt from every sun exposure had been transferred to me. My mother, May Jeater, always held me gently and treated my wounds. She said, “Chester, I’m sorry. I just want Dylan to be happy in the time he has left. I hope you understand.” On New Year’s Eve, my parents took Dylan out. It was very sunny that day. As soon as we left the house, my whole body broke out in blisters. I could not help but cry out in pain. Dylan tore off his wristband and broke down sobbing. “Does it hurt? Fine, if you think it hurts so much, then turn off the transfer! Let me just die of the pain! “I’ll only live up to sixteen anyway. I’m going to die sooner or later.” His body became severely sunburned, and he lost consciousness. Mom shoved me to the ground. “Dylan never complained once in all those years of pain! After only six years of it being passed to you, you’re already breaking down?! “He’s only going to live to be sixteen! Is it wrong to want him to be happy in his last few years?” Dad picked up Dylan. “I don’t want you getting hurt either, but the pain can only be transferred between biological brothers.” They then rushed him to the hospital. I picked up the wristband from the ground. A message popped up on the screen. [Do you want to transfer your remaining lifespan to the linked user?] Without any hesitation, I pressed confirm.

My sister and I were promised in marriage by our father, Eses, the God of Skies. She was to wed Dexaldir, the Keeper of Fate, the one who recorded the destinies of gods and mortals. I was to wed Guerrian, the God of War. But on the day of our wedding, their beloved woman, Seraphine, leapt from the Starfall Spire, the ancient tower where even immortals would die if they fell. After that, the four of us lived together in harmony. We were praised as the most devoted divine couples in the Celestial Skies. A hundred years later, during the war between the Celestial Skies and the Phlegethon Legion, Guerrian and Dexaldir betrayed us. They lured us into a trap and handed us over to the Phlegethon Demons. My husband, Guerrian, smirked at me. "Seraphine, it must have hurt when you fell from the Starfall Spire. I have finally avenged you today!" Next to him, Dexaldir held up an emerald pendant that was given to him by Seraphine. He murmured affectionately, "Seraphine, this day has finally come. They will pay the price! Wait for me. I'll soon find you a way to regain your body." Only then did my sister and I understand. They believed that we forced Seraphine to jump. The Phlegethon Demons kept us alive for 16 days. 16 days of torture. They tore the divine core from my sister's chest, destroying both her body and soul. As for me, due to my innate beauty, I was humiliated to death by the demon leader. When I opened my eyes once more, we were back to the day when our father promised us our marriages. I turned my head and saw my sister looking back at me. I knew she had been reborn too. We both smiled. Before our father could finish speaking, I stepped forward and interrupted him, "Father, I have a different idea."

My computer suddenly froze. The next second, my sister, Josie Bennett, appeared on the screen, covered in blood. Her face was white with terror as she screamed, “Nina, help me!” I looked at the pack of entities behind her, and my heart lurched. How had she gotten into a horror game? And an S-rank instance, no less. I had no time to think. I teleported in immediately. The moment I arrived, I saw a girl stomping on Josie, yanking her hair as she looked down at her with smug contempt. “You little brat. Still trying to call for help? Do you even know whose turf this is? Once you cross me, nobody can save you.” The players beside her quickly chimed in. “Exactly. Winnie is the woman of the top guy in this game. If you want to make it out alive, you’d better learn your place.” I stopped in my tracks, stunned. The top guy’s woman? Wasn’t I the final boss of this horror game?

On our first wedding anniversary, my husband came home with a woman who was six months pregnant. He introduced her as his cousin, someone who had fallen on hard times, and asked me to take care of her. I was just about to agree when fragments of imaginary commentary floated through my mind: [She's just my 'cousin'. Uh-uh, that's a cliche.] [Poor supporting female character! A maid by day, the husband's bedwarmer by night.] [But she totally deserved it! If she hadn't broken up the main couple, they'd have a whole soccer team of kids by now!] Wait—what? Supporting female character? Me? And what's this about breaking them up? So now these two get to cheat under my roof, and somehow I'm the villain? Before I could process it all, my husband was already dragging her luggage inside. "Alice doesn't like fried food," he said matter-of-factly. "And nothing too salty or spicy. Make sure you keep that in mind when you're cooking. "Oh, and pregnant women love sweets. Go out now and buy a cherry cake. The one from that bakery in the suburbs."

For a decade, my world had been measured in laundry cycles, grocery lists, and the ever-growing pile of dishes in the sink. I was elbow-deep in soapy water, scrubbing the remnants of another family meal, when it happened. A sudden, silent cascade of text flickered at the edge of my vision, like subtitles for a movie only I could see: [Gosh, the heroine is so tragic. Her husband's entire family has been feeding on her luck like parasites!] [Her husband stole her graduate school admission and her career!] [The in-laws are literally siphoning her health away. No wonder she's always sick.] [And the sister-in-law took her "romance" stat! No wonder her love life is a desert.] [Heads up! Her husband's about to give her another "gift." Let's see how much more he takes from her this time.] My hands, clutching a greasy plate, froze. Right on cue, my husband, Tristan, sauntered into the kitchen. A smug, self-satisfied smile was plastered on his face as he took my wet hand. He slid a flimsy, garishly colored plastic bracelet onto my wrist. "Look what I got for you, sweetheart," he announced, his voice dripping with pride. "I made a special trip after work. Found it at the dollar store. It's romantic and economical, just like you always say you want. You love it, don't you?"

I was born destined to be fertile. The kind of woman who brings heirs into the world as if it were destiny. My womb had never failed me. The Schuyler family had practically begged me to marry into their family. The reason was simple. For three generations, the Schuyler family had only produced a single heir each time. Their bloodline was hanging by a thread. The patriarch of the family, Albert Schuyler, went everywhere looking for solutions. Doctors, fortune tellers, shamans, anyone who could give him hope. In the end, every prediction pointed to me. After I married Jack Schuyler, my first pregnancy was twins. The entire Schuyler family exploded with joy. Albert donated to every church and fortune teller alike, kneeling in gratitude. Before the babies were even weaned, the Schuyler family business began to thrive. Everyone said that it was the blessing of having noble heirs. Wedding gifts, properties, and company shares. The Schuyler family spared nothing. They treated me like a queen, terrified that I might suffer even the slightest. Until the day I gave birth to my third child. Jack Schuyler's true love, Bianca Chance, barged into the delivery room, screaming at me, "You shameless tramp! You're nothing but a breeding sow! One baby after the other! Are you trying to trap Jack with your womb? You disgusting woman! Jack had said that everything you give birth to will just be burdens sooner or later!" I pressed a hand on my wound and looked at her. Burden? Fine. I would take these so-called burdens with me. As for the Schuyler family's precious bloodline, they had to figure out how to continue it on their own.

The wheat has yet to ripen when my Grandma, Julia Simmon, appears to me in a dream. "There will be a plague of locusts in the autumn. Sell off the produce and raise fish to ensure the family has income." I, Vanessa West, convince my parents to harvest the wheat for grain and feed before irrigating the fields to raise fish. Then, a severe drought strikes and the fish die, leaving my family drowning in debt. We're at a loss to know what to do. Then, Grandma appears in my dreams again. "There are gold bars buried under the oak tree on the hill at our old home. Selling them will sort out our debts and leave you with money to spare." After telling my father, Alan West, this, he digs up a whole crate of white powder. The police happen to be staking out the area. They have him arrested, thinking that he means to buy the drugs. For the amount he gets caught with, he faces life imprisonment. My mother, Hannah Smith, is unable to bear the sight of this and faints on the spot. Again, Grandma appears to me in a dream and offers guidance. "Dr. Hank Vance at Central Hospital can cure her. If you don't hurry, she'll be in danger!" Desperate to save my mother, I threaten Dr. Vance with my life, and he agrees to operate on her. Then, my boyfriend gets into a car accident and urgently needs treatment. However, he succumbs to his injuries due to my asking for Dr. Vance. In the meantime, Mom doesn't receive treatment in time. As she is dying, Mom weeps, asking me why I ruined the entire family. Then, she passes away on the operating table. My boyfriend's parents think I am responsible for their son's death, and they stab me 18 times. While being rushed to the emergency room, I see Grandma again. However, she is grinning maliciously as she plunges a knife into my heart, mimicking the stabs I got from real life and giving me a ruptured heart. I died without understanding why Grandma's appearances led to my family's end. I open my eyes and find out that I've returned to the day Grandma told me to sell our crops.

The day Dad’s hypnosis stopped working on Mom, she slit her wrists. I ran crying to find Dad. My brother just stood there laughing. "Sis is such a liar. That water's just red food coloring. She and Mom are putting on a show for you." Dad's face flipped from worried to furious. "How long are you going to keep this up?" "Vanessa's depression can't take any more stress. Are you trying to drive her to her grave?" "If you hadn't stolen her parents from her, if you hadn't drugged me and crawled into my bed pretending to be her, I never would have ended up with you." "Pull this act again and I'll throw you back to the slums!" My brother clapped his hands in delight. "Yes! I want Mom gone! I want Aunt Vanessa to be my new mommy!" Mom closed her eyes, all the life draining out of her body. I stood there, jaw clenched, watching Dad walk away with his arm around Vanessa Bennett. A cold, mechanical voice of my mother suddenly echoed in my mind: [Mission failed. Host will be terminated. Countdown: three days.] Dad wouldn’t even have the right to beg her on his knees anymore.

I had no choice but to become the partner of a mafia boss with an incubus bloodline when his heat cycle began. To my surprise, Lionel Andrus and I got along better than I ever imagined. Every night, he held me close, craving more of me, as if we were made for each other. But right before we got our marriage license, my jealous sister, Tracy Rowe, tried to talk me out of it. "Incubi are born flirts," she warned. "How do you know you're his only woman? Once he's bored, he'll toss you aside." In my last life, I had believed her. I called off my engagement with Lionel and, through her introduction, married a "nice guy" named Jamie Stephenson. After we married, Jamie cheated on me and gave me STDs. Desperate, I went to Tracy's house to ask for help. She turned me away with disgust. "You couldn't control your husband and ended up sick, and you actually came asking me for money? How dare you! You have no self-respect. You don't deserve to be my sister!" Right then, she publicly cut ties with me. Even our parents sided with her, calling me a disgrace and refusing to let me step inside the house. In the end, I couldn't take the pain anymore and ended up hanging myself. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the very day Tracy told me not to marry Lionel.