Literary Realism

After the plane crash, I rejected the captain—my brother-in-law’s—final life jacket that he had as he handed it to me. Instead, I allowed myself to plunge a hundred meters from the sky. In my previous life, I had survived after accepting his life jacket. But he died a tragic death in the crash. After his death, I was consumed with guilt. My husband proposed to take care of two households at the same time so that he could look after his sister-in-law. Out of guilt, I reluctantly agreed to his proposal. I even had to give up my only chance of getting promoted to department head of the hospital to my sister-in-law, upon my husband’s insistence. When I was seventy years old, I suddenly saw my brother-in-law, who was supposed to be dead, show up in front of me. He said to my husband, “Bro, thank goodness you came up with that fake-death plan back then. I was drunk and caused the deaths of all the passengers after the plane crash. If not for that plan of yours, as the captain, I certainly could not have escaped scot-free and would have been sentenced to prison for life! “It was too bad we had to keep her in the dark for her entire life.” After a lifetime of sacrifices, I was so furious that I nearly passed out upon hearing my brother-in-law’s words. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the plane crash.

I died on the day I won the Global Medical Doctorate Award. Fresh from celebrating the sixteenth birthday of my younger sister, my parents, brother, and my fiancé finally returned home, but it was three hours after my death. My family photos were beaming with happiness on social media, while I laid in the suffocating basement drenched in blood. Before I died, I had struggled to slide my tongue across my phone screen in a desperate attempt to call for help. My parents and brother had blocked my number. Only my fiancé answered my call. The moment his voice came through, he snapped, "Winona, Winnie's sixteenth birthday is important. Stop trying to hijack attention with your pathetic excuses. Enough with the theatrics!" It murdered my last spark of survival. In that electronic death rattle, my heart flatlined. The 100th time they chose her. The 100th time they abandoned me for her. But it was also the last time. They thought I had ran way to get their attention again, and that if they taught me a harsh lesson, I would come crawling back pathetically. But not this time. Because I didn't leave home. I had been lying in the basement of my house.

After my wife had a miscarriage, the doctor said she could never have children again. She cried and told me to find another woman and to forget about her. I held her in my arms and told her I didn't care about having any children. However, I was smiling when she wasn't looking. The abortion remedy I bought in the countryside had worked much faster than I expected. After all, that child wasn't mine to begin with.

During a mission overseas, I shielded my younger brother from an explosion—only to wake up months later, my body broken, my mind trapped in the void of a coma. Grateful for my sacrifice, he repaid me by marrying my wife. When I finally clawed my way back to consciousness and rushed home, I found my son kneeling on the ground, sobbing as his college acceptance letter lay shredded in his fists. My nephew loomed over him, slamming a steel pipe into his back. "Lick my shoes clean," he sneered. "Who are you to think you deserve an education?" And there was my wife clapping in delight, dabbing the sweat from my nephew’s brow like a doting servant. "You’re just like your deadbeat father," My wife spat. "Born to be my stepping stone." My eyes bloodshot, I tightened my fists. Every last one of them would pay for this dearly.

After I was reborn, I dumped the cheating bastard and married his older twin brother. But as it turns out, I still picked the wrong man. In my past life, I married Maxwell Vaughan, the younger twin. Not long after our wedding, he started sleeping with Kelly Sloan, the maid's daughter. For her, he set the house on fire while I was sleeping. I woke up burned beyond recognition. Amoura, the world-famous lingerie brand, dropped me overnight. Just like that, my modeling career was over. This time, I chose Charlie Vaughan, the older twin. We were in sync and deeply in love. I thought I'd finally made it, that I'd rise to the top and become the supermodel I was meant to be. But the night before my Amoura runway show, my face was burned again. Charlie uncovered the truth quickly and had Maxwell arrested. For a moment, I thought I'd made the right choice this time. Six years later, I overhear something I was never meant to hear as Charlie tucks our sons, Declan and Dylan Vaughan, into bed. "Dad, Uncle Max already took the fall for Kelly. So why did she have to leave the country? Couldn't she have stayed here with us?" "Yeah, Dad. We still want Kelly to be our mom. We hate that freak!" Charlie pulls Declan and Dylan into his arms. His gaze softens with sorrow, then hardens with quiet resolve. "I already betrayed your mom once for Kelly. I'll spend the rest of my life to make it right." A rush of emotion surged through me, the pain cutting deeper than the fire ever did. For six years of marriage and eight years of love, I've been nothing more than a joke. Only now do I see it—Charlie loved Kelly all along, just like Maxwell did. Our marriage was nothing more than a matter of convenience. Even Declan and Dylan call me a freak and wish Kelly were their mother. If that's how it is, then so be it. I'm done with all three of them.

On the day I go to the car dealership to pick up my car, I'm told that the previous salesperson has resigned, so a different salesperson will attend to me. Yet the first thing the salesperson does is say that I paid too little for the car and demand that I pay more to make up the difference. "The other salesperson is truly an idiot. How could he sell a car for 300 thousand dollars in cash? It's no wonder he got chewed out and quit. If you want to take the car, you'll have to switch to a five-year loan with an interest rate of 12%." I'm rendered speechless as he blatantly tries to extort me. "I've already paid and signed the sales contract. You're breaching the contract!" The salesperson scoffs. "So what? The car is with us anyway. If you're not going to pay the difference, don't even think of taking the car with you!" I can't help but chuckle. I calmly pull my phone out of my suit pocket. "Walter, place Mr. Paul Roland's loan application on hold for now. He's earning big bucks for his business. It seems like he doesn't need it anymore."

Out on a holiday with my boyfriend, Jack, and my good friend, Eva, a catastrophe occurred. As the floods came, we waited for the rescue helicopter to come. As I fastened the safety rope, I noticed that my metal safety clip had been swapped for a plastic ring. Climbing up the rope ladder, Jack said nonchalantly, "Eva's luggage is heavy. She needs another safety clip, so I gave her yours. You can wait for the next rescue." I replied in a panic, pointing at the water level already past my chest, "But I can't swim!" Jack replied irritatedly, "Naomi, stop causing a scene! You're a strong swimmer, what's a little time in the water? Eva is my boss's relative. If something happens to her, my promotion is gone. Why can't you understand that?" "Which matters more? My life or her luggage?" I reached for the rope ladder when he kicked my hand away. "I've studied the waters. The flood won't rise so quickly. It will at most be at the level of your neck. You won't die!" I said nothing further. Watching the floods rise crazily, I quickly pressed my family's special alarm on my wrist.

"Honey, the washing machine's making that buzzing sound again. Can you fix it please?" I got up from my desk and walked over. Just as I placed my hand on the washing machine, a wave of numbness surged through my body. My heart pounded wildly before I convulsed and collapsed on the floor. Just before everything went dark, I heard my wife on the phone. "He has collapsed. He should be dead by now." The power outlet continued to hiss and buzz, like the mocking laughter of a devil. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day my wife asked me to fix the washing machine. I then decided to secretly follow her, only to discover she was posing as a topless model for her art teacher.

On my wedding day, my sister was drugged by my fiancé's best friend and viciously assaulted by a group of groomsmen. When she came to, the shame and horror drove her to leap to her death, her broken body crumpling at my feet. Herbert Brady shielded my eyes from the grisly sight, vowing to make things right. But when the truth came out that Lori Reilly was behind it, he smashed my phone to keep me from calling the police. Lori shrugged with mock innocence. "The guys were just messing around. So what if they tore her clothes off? I've been half-naked around them plenty of times. Why was she so fragile?" She slung her arm around Herbert's neck, whining, "I told you not to marry some broke nobody. Poor people have such brittle pride. Look at the mess Mona has made." When I demanded justice, Herbert stayed cool, sliding a Centurion card across the table. "Ten million dollars. Enough to buy your silence? Lori is one of us, part of the city's elite inner circle. Push your luck, and you're making enemies of everyone who runs this town. Come on, it was just a wedding prank gone wrong." I seized the car and snapped it like a twig. Ten million dollars? To buy the life of the Woodard family's cherished heiress?

After half a month of nonstop overtime, I secured a contract worth over ten million, pulling the company back from the brink of collapse. My boss, Richard Gray, was overjoyed. At the celebration party, he called me the pillar of the company and announced that he would reward me with a bonus. However, when the end of the month came, and I opened my payslip, I froze. Negative 250 dollars. A negative commission? I actually owed the company 250 dollars? I immediately called the finance department, asking if there was a mistake on my payslip. They replied, "No mistake. This is the cost calculation formula that Mr. Gray personally instructed us to use. He said you'd understand once you saw it." I went straight to Richard for an explanation. He laughed. "The contract that you signed, after factoring in the concessions, upfront resources, and hidden expenses, left the company with a net loss of 150 thousand. Since the loss was due to your personal decisions, you're responsible for five percent. That totals to 7500. "Considering how hard you worked, we deducted it from your base salary first. But your salary wasn't enough, so you still owe the company 250. Don't worry. The company treats its employees well. We'll write that off." Soon after, he awarded 100 thousand dollars to the newly arrived intern. I watched the newcomer, probably connected to Richard, cheerfully treat the entire company to dinner with her bonus, and something inside me just snapped. From that day onward, I did the bare minimum. I clocked in. I clocked out. Nothing more. Later, when a critical project went catastrophically wrong and the company faced a colossal compensation demand, Richard came begging me to fix it. I just smiled and said, "Sorry, Mr. Gray. I've already resigned. If there are any problems, you can ask the intern who got the 100 thousand dollar bonus to handle it."