List Negative Emotions

After graduating from a socialite training course, my sister swears to marry into a wealthy family. To create encounters with Pierce Holden, the prince of the upper crust, she drives my car, wanting to tailgate him and run into his car. I slam the brakes and tell her the Holdens aren't fools. We can't afford to pay for Pierce's car, even if we were to give up everything we have. Later, Pierce throws a lavish wedding that stuns the country. My sister goes crazy with jealousy, saying that she would've been the bride if not for me stopping her back then. Out of resentment, she rams her car into me and kills me. When I open my eyes again, I find myself in the front passenger seat. My sister smirks confidently, her gaze fixed on the expensive car ahead of us. "I'm sure Pierce will be enchanted by me once he sees me. I won't need to drive a dump like this once I get together with him." This time, I don't stop her. She puts the pedal to the metal, making the car crash against the sports car worth a fortune.

My son accidentally burns my husband's first love's hand. My husband cruelly breaks my son's hand to teach him a lesson. He's in so much pain that he can't see straight and falls into a lake. Blood dyes the water red. I hold him close as I sob and call my husband, pleading for help. My husband doesn't care, though. "It's just a broken hand—he'll be fine once it's set in a cast. He'll only do worse things in the future if he's not taught a lesson now!" Later, my son drowns in the lake because he's not rescued in time. My husband loses his mind when he sees his body. "How could he have died when he only had a broken hand?"

What does heartbreak bring to you? Depression, rage, desire to either kill yourself or ruin the person who put you through so much? My heartbreak brought all these negative emotions to me, but I refused to admit defeat. He doesn't want me; fine by me. I don't want him to, either. In fact, the whole world's happiness is for me. I want to show him that I can be happy without you, and that's what I did. To my dismay, he came back crawling to me, asking me for his forgiveness and to accept him again. What should I do now? Should I let him enter my life again or move forward when I have everything that he is offering me now?

My husband, Ethan Parker, brought our daughter on a trip to the countryside with his first love, Mandy Sanchez. Halfway through, he abandoned our little girl and left with Mandy. When our daughter was surrounded by wolves, I could not reach him. By the time I arrived, the car was empty—the only thing left behind was a bloodstained piece of pumpkin pie. As I was dealing with my grief, Ethan finally answered his phone. "We're celebrating Thanksgiving. Why are you ruining the mood?" I internally scoffed at that man's audacity. Well, happy holidays indeed! Let me deliver a bloody pumpkin pie for you to really get into the spirit.

After Mom passed, it was just me and Dad, depending on each other. I’ve always had poor health, and people used to taunt me, calling me a “sickly, doomed child.” He kneeled by my bedside, making a promise. “I swear, I’ll get you the best treatment, no matter what. You’ll never suffer again!” Eventually, he became a powerful CEO, going so far as to buy an entire private villa just so I could recover in peace. However, his assistant assumed I was his mistress.  She came in with a group of security guards and surrounded me. “So, you’re the cripple who’s been seducing Mr. Johnson?” “Let’s see if you can still act high and mighty after I’m done with you!” She kicked over my wheelchair, yanked me by the hair, scratched up my face, and finally cut off my hand. Barely clinging to life, I lay there until Dad came back. She held up my severed hand, presenting it to him. “Mr. Johnson, this was a spy sent by a rival company. I took care of her for you.”

On our wedding day, Carter Hall's father took his own life in our new home. He left a suicide note, blaming me for his death. From that day forward, Carter despised me to the core. He said, "Lindsey Thomson, you deserve to rot in hell, atoning for your sins for the rest of your life." Eventually, just as he wished, I wandered the streets, mute and half-insane, living a life worse than a stray dog. But then, he regretted it.

In my last life, the System let my parents swap my SAT scores with my twin's. I was always top of my class—until I magically bombed with a 640. Amelia Everton? Scored a perfect 1520, like she'd earned it. The internet went nuts. Everyone called me a fraud. My parents played innocent on TV, said I'd been cheating for years. Every college ghosted me. Then they kicked me out. I froze to death alone. Not this time. I'm taking it all back—every last thing they stole.

My mother-in-law, Eleanor, was having a heart attack, and my husband, Ben Dover—a heart surgeon—was the only one who could save her. Did I call him? Nope. I just stood there, watching her gasp like a fish out of water. In my last life, I'd begged Ben to come save her. He brushed me off, accusing me of interrupting his time with his mistress, Ima Schit. No matter how much I pleaded, he wouldn't come. Eleanor had died in the hospital. And when Johnny, my father-in-law, demanded answers, Ben flipped the script, saying I'd never even called. He made Eleanor's death my fault. Johnny, blinded by grief and fury, killed me. But plot twist—I woke up. Right back to the day this circus started.

The night I find out I'm pregnant, my family's villa suddenly goes up in flames. I endure the suffocating smoke and run the risk of being disfigured as I run to my son's bedroom. However, it's empty. Just then, I hear his excited exclamations outside the window. "Monica, you look so cool when putting out fires! I bet you'll get first place in this upcoming Firefighter Challenge!" I'm about to head downstairs to lecture him when a wall collapses and crushes me. As I drift in and out of consciousness, I hear my stern, stoic husband praise Monica Sloan for her courage. If I'm guessing correctly, my husband and son have started this fire to please her. I stare at the door, which is so close and yet so far. I send out one final text before dying of asphyxiation.

When the earthquake struck on what should have been our fourth wedding anniversary, my supposedly devoted and family-oriented husband, Lionel Brooks, abandoned me and our children, who were trapped under the rubble. Despite our children's pleas for help, Lionel left without a second thought, carrying his former flame, Fiona Smith, and her daughter to safety. While Fiona and her daughter escaped with minor injuries, my precious children had their chests pierced by steel beams, leaving this world forever. It was such a twisted fate. What was meant to be a day of celebration turned into an annual day of mourning for my beautiful children. A week later, during my children's funeral, Lionel had the audacity to call and ask which hospital the kids were in. It was laughable—after ensuring Fiona and her child were comfortable and safe, he finally found time to check on his flesh and blood. I could only say, "You finally remembered your children after a whole week? Lionel, I hope you rot in hell."