Live At The Library

After being severely hurt by my husband once again, a reporter comes to me. "Ma'am, wasn't your husband one of the 'Top Ten Most Touching People' ten years ago after he saved you during the earthquake and ended up paralyzed on one side?" I nodded silently. "Ma'am, we're from the TV station, and we're preparing to do a program on the earthquake." I secretly rub my bruised arm and stare at him. "Alright, but could you film it covertly? My husband isn't comfortable with so many cameras around." But to my surprise, on the first day of filming, I end up getting wildly cursed at online.

Midnight. I heard a faint meowing through the window. I was about to have a look when floating words appeared in front of me. [Don't open the window! There isn't a cat outside! It's a serial killer!] [I'm done. How could the side character be so dumb? I can already imagine how tragic her death will be.] [Go and find the villain! He loves you so much! He will surely protect you!] I quickly retracted my hand on the window latch…

I'm a major suspect in the in-law murder case in Nexford. My husband, Roland Turner, also known as the police chief, personally arrests me. During my trial, the murderer commits yet another murder. The latest victims are killed once again using the same brutal method. Roland kneels on the floor while begging me to tell him the truth. I answer him that I have no idea what it is. At the same time, the victims' families keep screaming at me, wanting to skin me alive for my crimes. Three months later, Roland brings a Memory Decryptor with him. He finds me near a pile of trash. With trembling hands, he pierces two thin needles through my temples. "I'm so sorry, Wendy. I know you're not the murderer, but I just want this slaughterfest to end. I don't want to see anyone else die again. "We can also use this chance to show your memories to everyone. That way, we can find out what the actual truth is." But once he views my memories, he suffers from an emotional breakdown and sinks to his knees.

When I was ten years old, I sold my mother to human traffickers. My father calls me an ungrateful monster, a devil. He sues me 99 times, but each time, I am found not guilty because I am under 14. In the end, on his way to bring my mother home, he is beaten to death by the men in that village. 20 years later, my younger sister finally brings our mother—now unable to walk and mentally unstable—out of the village. She starts a livestream and breaks down in tears. "I beg the internet to put my devil of a sister on trial. Don’t let her get away with this! She destroyed my family. I will make sure she loses everything!" But only I know… My mother deserves it.

“I hope you're not fooled by my sweet looks Clair?” Emelia pushed her out her way, before closing the door, she stopped, turned, and stared at her from head to toe. “Don't be mistaken, I do want a man in the streets but a beast in bed” Poison to death by her husband and lover, Emelia Zorah is granted a second chance at life. She wants nothing but to stay as far away from him as possible, 5 years ago she had loved him but now was different. She despised even the air he breathed. Escaping the lights of marriage from her destined mate, she lands in his brother's arms, but what seems like a saving option in time turns out to be the blazing fire she dived from the firepan into.

I am Seranda Williams the uwanted, born from a lineage of slaves, embedded with the mark of Zeranda cursed god of the souls of the dead. A plague waiting to be eradicated. a plague waiting to be destroyed, a celebration at my death, festivity at the sight of my blood. I stare from the open bars of my home, a crumbling place known to others as a dungeon, but I have called this place home for the last 18 years, today is that day, the long-awaited day of my death. I feel nothing, I have been groomed as a sacrificial lamb. am neither the first nor will I be the last, it will soon be time. Nothing is there to be felt, I was neither provided information on why I must die, nothing could break me. No, they can't…can they? Neglected separated front all. Groomed as a sacrificial lamb, what was there to hope for? I am not the first nor will I be the last, it will soon be time. I have lived off scraps of food for the longest time, not like I saw meaning to why I was fed. I was going to be killed either way. I got myself ready, but there wasn't much to be done, I washed my hair with the little water left from the previous day, I have been isolated from humans since my birth. I did not get the chance to be a child like every other kid out there. I was barely given enough to last me for 18 years. The door abruptly opens and hefty men rush in with chains and shackles. “Tie the slave”

The Horror Game invaded the world. Real players entered the game, and their every move would be broadcast live. My adopted son shoved me—an eighty-eight-year-old woman—straight into a deadly dungeon to save his own skin. One of the comments in the live stream predicted: [What? They’re tossing in such an elderly woman? No way she’s gonna survive the first night!] On the first night, a frost-bitten ghost exhaled icy breath in my face. I shrugged off my thick floral coat, feeling sorry for her. “You poor thing! You must be freezing. Listen to me and bundle up quickly!” The second night, a starving ghost lunged at me with blood dripping down his chin. I sniffed the air, then found a jar of pickled cabbage. “Look at how skinny you are! Come on, let me get you something hot to eat.” On the final day, the last surviving players tied me up, desperate to steal the one ticket to escape. However, before they could touch me, every ghost in the dungeon came storming out, cleavers and rolling pins in hand. “Touch her, and you’re dead meat!”

After my parents get divorced, my twin brother, Archer Sullivan, chooses one parent to live with. I choose to be with Mom. After the divorce, Mom's mood is at an all-time low. She gambles away all of the money we have, and she begins bringing various men home the moment she runs out of money. I have to move into a dark and damp apartment with Mom afterward. Lewd sounds keep drifting from her room every now and then. Every day, I have to secretly take on part-time work in order to earn my living expenses, on top of going to school. Life is very harsh and bitter for me. That is, until Archer, whom I haven't kept in touch with for a very long time, sends me a link to a streaming website. "Tap on the link, Adam. It's a surprise for you." I tap on the link, only to realize that the livestream that's on top of the trending list features… me? It's a livestream with a split-screen function. One screen shows me finishing my homework under the dim light in a cheap apartment. The other screen shows my parents cuddling with Archer happily while seated on a luxurious couch in a villa. "Let's see what sort of differences there will be between a pair of twins that are raised differently till they're 18 years old!" "I suppose the older twin doesn't realize that his parents never got divorced, and that his family is actually very rich! Both parents are still living happily together. Even his younger brother is living a great life." "That poor twin, though! He's living a very difficult life without three hot meals a day! Isn't this considered abuse?" "Well, that older twin is more understanding and obedient, isn't he? That's why his parents chose to make him suffer in life."

To get their hands on money so that my younger brother can get married and buy a house, my parents take me to the family tribunal. They show up in ragged clothes, accusing me of being ungrateful and heartless toward my own family. If I'm found guilty, I will be sentenced to life imprisonment. All my assets will go to my parents and my brother. But if I'm not guilty, they will suffer the full backlash instead. I sit on the stand wearing a trendy designer dress and holding a limited-edition handbag. My face full of disdain, I say, "They can sue me all they want! I'd rather die than financially support them!" The court attendees are outraged and start condemning me one after another. But the moment the trial light lights up, everyone freezes in shock.

Ich war genau auf eine einzige Party in meiner neuen, wohlhabenden Nachbarschaft gegangen. Danach verklagte mich meine Nachbarin Brenda. Vor Gericht hielt sie ihre Tochter Tiffany im Arm – voller blauer Flecken, gezeichnet und übel zugerichtet. Sie beschuldigte meinen Sohn, sie vergewaltigt zu haben. Mitten in der Anhörung zog Tiffany ihren Kragen herunter. Rote Striemen legten sich wie ein Ring um ihren Hals. „Er hat versucht, mir die Hose runterzureißen“, schluchzte sie. „Er wollte sich an mir vergreifen. Ich habe mich gewehrt. Also hat er mich geschlagen. Er hat mein Gesicht ruiniert!“ Draußen vor dem Gerichtsgebäude hielten Demonstranten Schilder hoch und beschimpften meinen Sohn als Abschaum – ein verzogenes, reiches Bengel. Im Internet ging ein gephotoshoptes Trauerbild von mir viral. Darunter stand: Die unfähige Mutter soll zusammen mit ihrem Sohn sterben. Der Aktienkurs meines Unternehmens stürzte ab. Aber ich saß einfach nur da. Steinern. Ausdruckslos. Dann verlangte ich, dass man meinen Sohn Cooper hereinbringen solle. Die Türen des Gerichtssaals öffneten sich. Cooper trat ein. Alle erstarrten.