My Dead Mother Turned Me Into Viral Content Novels & Stories

Unfortunately a downside of the whole thing was that now, it was inarguably in the news that I was raped and fucked in the ass by my step dad, and there was nothing more uncomfortable than that. Oh well, I'm still off social media for now. Even though it was all over, I still couldn't bring myself to come online just yet. I wanted just a little while more of not having to do that. I was actually getting comfortable staying offline anyway. The most disappointing news I got, just a week later after the whole prison sentence, was my mother passing away. She was sick, very sick, incredibly sick. But she was also evil, and she plotted way too much than necessary, so it accelerated the disease bec

She gulped and said with disbelief, "Stop joking around. Didn't you say that rabies has an incubation period of at least a month? It's only been five days. How can she be dead?" The AI replied, "I did say that, but that's only under normal circumstances. Your daughter was bitten on the head, and the virus came into direct contact with her nerves, which would shorten the incubation period tremendously. Once she contracts the virus, the death rate would be 100%. Do you need me to compile a list of funeral suggestions?" My mother was stunned. She fell backwards and went into a daze, looking as if she had lost her soul. My father grabbed a chair and smashed her with it, causing her to whimper in

Because it was so outrageous and there were so many bystanders, the story quickly went viral. Commenters were split in the replies, but most chose to believe what my mom said. They decided I was an ungrateful brat who abandoned the mother who raised me the moment I got money. I had no idea who taught Mom how to start a livestream. That afternoon, a stream titled "Airport Mother's Heartfelt Confession" appeared online. When I clicked on it, Mom seemed to have turned on some kind of aging filter. She looked old and haggard. "My daughter has always loved taking shortcuts. She got into Westridge through luck and won the lottery through luck.

I looked at Grace with a piercing gaze and asked in a steady voice, "I tried explaining to Dad, but he didn't believe me and almost killed me instead. Where were you then? Why didn't you come help me?" Then, I pulled a USB drive from my pocket and tossed it to her. "Here," I said with a faint smile. "There weren't many cameras on the streets back then, but I found one. Watch it yourself." Grace's hands shook as she took the drive. She took a deep breath and plugged it into the computer, then clicked on the video. The video played. Mom's terrified screams rang out. "You got the wrong ones! Take those two little brats, not me! Please, let me go! It's those two girls. Do whatever you want with

On the day my brother and I were born, a witch predicted that my success would drive him into severe depression. She said my brother would take wolfsbane and kill himself during our awakening ceremony at eighteen. So for eighteen years, our parents did everything they could to hold me back. On the day of our awakening, my father kicked me into the dungeon once used to hold condemned prisoners. I begged them to let me attend the awakening ceremony, but my father locked the door tight. “You know awakening your wolf could push your brother to his death, and you still insist on going through with the ceremony? Are you actually trying to kill him?” As the silver poison seeped from the chains bind

My mother has a strange obsession with cleanliness. Everything has to be scrubbed down with bleach before she considers it clean. I know full well how damaging bleach fumes are to the lungs, and I pull up research to talk her out of it. She finally stops. But then, my brother catches an infectious disease, and a doctor recommends disinfecting the floors with bleach. She turns on me immediately, screaming that if she hadn't listened to my nonsense, my brother never would've gotten sick. My brother hears this from her every single day and takes it to heart. When his condition gets worse, he pushes me off the top of a building. Maybe even God can't stand how unfairly I died, because I come

However, they had gotten Mom involved. She was an old woman in her 60s. She had never gotten angry at anyone in her life, and she would even run back to the grocery store to return the change if the cashier gave her more than they needed to. Not only had they shoved her to the ground and caused her to fracture her arm, but they had uploaded the video online, allowing hundreds of thousands of people to watch it and ridicule her. This tragedy befell her just because she was my mother. I stood up and walked over to the computer, booting up the livestreaming service.

After being locked up in the mental asylum for 99 days, I was given an early discharge due to improved conditions. After my mother found out, she said coldly, “I won’t pick you up! I’m the head of the psychiatry department. If I personally pick you up, what would others think of me? “Let me tell you the truth. I signed the papers to have you committed. “Sally did slap you first, yet you pushed her to the ground! “She’s your adoptive little sister. How could you do that?” She hung up on me. My hands trembled when I phoned my older brother, Victor Anderson. Before I could speak, he sighed. “Clara, I fully support Mom’s decision. “Besides, I’m an early childhood educator. If others fi

For as long as I could remember, I knew my mother, Isabella, hated me. She once threw me into the basement, leaving me to rot in the dark or crawl out on my own. But I was hard to kill. Even after nine days of starvation, I still clawed at the bottom of the door until all ten of my fingers were bloody. At seven, I taught myself how to fight back against her. When she locked me out, I shattered the champagne tower at a family dinner. If I couldn't be happy, no one could. When she had her guards pin me to the ground to teach me a lesson, I secretly locked her precious son, Leo, in the attic. I listened to him cry until his voice went hoarse. I stubbornly fought against her like this unti

I was born lazy. At least, that was what my mother told me over and over again. Because my mother believed in modern discipline, she made my twin sister, Sophie, and me wear self-discipline bracelets from the moment we were born. Whenever we slacked off, the bracelet would flash red, and Mom would press a button on the remote, making it blast a piercing alarm as punishment. Sophie’s bracelet was always green. Even when she spent the entire day lying in her room playing games, she would simply smile and tell Mom she had been studying whenever Mom asked. The bracelet would remain quietly glowing green. But me? All I had to do was sit on the couch and rest for a few minutes. The bracelet would