Operating Systems: Internals And Design Principles

The night before the design competition, my husband took my design draft, promising to secure a patent to protect my work. In the intense competition, my work stood out and won first place. During the award ceremony, I walked on stage wearing the necklace that my daughter and I had made together. Suddenly, my seven-year-old daughter rushed up to the stage, screaming, "Mom, how could you steal Veronica's necklace? That's horrible and embarrassing. Just come down and go home with me."

Due to my heightened sensitivity, even the slightest touch causes an uncontrollable reaction. My husband, concerned, sends me to the hospital for treatment. As I lie on the operating table, the attending doctor unexpectedly triggers a wave of intense response from me—right in front of my husband.

I was the stand-in who looked most like my husband's first love. He put me through countless plastic surgeries, both major and minor ones, until I became her exact likeness. But then, she came back from the dead. All it took was her saying, "I don't like anyone looking like me," and he sent me right back to the operating table once more. I begged him, telling him that my body couldn't handle it anymore. Alas, he only looked at me with irritation. "Seeing that cheap imitation of her face just disgusts me," he sneered. "No matter how close you come, you'll never be her." In the end, I died on that operating table. Yet, he went mad, trying desperately to recall what I once looked like.

Since his childhood, Vicky skillfully navigated intricate family dynamics and romantic relationships with people of all ages. He held a steadfast belief that every problem had a solution, and his experiences had only reinforced this conviction. However, he learned to discern when to offer advice, recognizing that some individuals are too stubborn to listen. While his journeys taught him valuable lessons, he remained unwavering in his commitment to his principles and values. Vicky's ultimate goal was to bring joy and relief to others, but he often found himself torn between conflicting desires. Throughout his life's adventures, he remained a loyal companion, always striving to support and empower those around him, regardless of gender. Even when others sought to exploit his kindness, expertise, and experiences, he remained steadfast, refusing to compromise his values. His insatiable curiosity sometimes led him into unavoidable challenges and problems, but ultimately, his lifetime achievements became a beacon of inspiration for others, a testament to his unwavering dedication to his principles and his unrelenting pursuit of joy. His life's purpose was dedicated to the serive of humanity, the core of his being.

It's been a constant battle between step-siblings Emberly and Derrick as they competed against each other throughout high school. Both fought tooth and nail to be the one to gain control of their parents' billion-dollar clothing and jewelry design company. Who will win this battle when hate turns into lust and lust turns into love?

An existence that wished to cease… A being bordering between reality and fantasy… Asher E. Ildian is just your average, athletic student of Maplewood High School. His principles are easy; avoid troublesome people at all cost and befriend someone worthy of his time. Not until he met the nobody, Elaine Ozark, which not only change his life, but change his life… Repeatedly. Like a cycle of clockwork. Asher had to make choices to maintain Elaine’s life, and his own sanity to escape this endless loop of time.

Karila Aistarabaw I is the last woman in Egyptian history to receive a royal title. Her inherited family wealth has placed her at the center of Western threats, where the war for power has intensified in recent years. With a mere title within a republic commanded by an antagonistic president, Karila lives for revenge in the name of all the losses she had suffered, but is faced with an unknown coming from America capable of making her relearn each of her most intimate principles in the name of a forbidden attraction that will change his life forever.

Madam Pratt, my mother-in-law, was in critical condition after a car accident, desperately needing surgery. However, as the lead surgeon, I—Lilianne Davis—stood by, casually scrolling through short videos on my phone. My best friend, Tiffany Owens, who was also a doctor, was far more anxious than I was. She grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the operating room. “Lily, why are you still stalling? Hurry up and save her!” I took a step back, clutching my stomach in pain as her face twisted in shock. “I have cramps so bad I can’t even stand. You do it.” In my last life, the moment I heard about Madam Pratt’s accident, I had swallowed a painkiller and rushed into surgery, working for hours to stabilize her. I had barely stepped away from the operating table when alarms blared. “Lilianne, what have you done? The patient is experiencing acute hemolysis!” “Call the family now!” Gareth Pratt stormed in, his face twisted with rage. He slapped me hard in the face. “Lil, you’re a professional surgeon, yet you gave my mother the wrong blood transfusion?!” I froze, reaching for Madam Pratt’s medical report to explain, only to find that the A-type blood I had seen before had somehow changed to B-type. The medical board arrived, and a blood test revealed traces of hallucinogens in my system. “Unbelievable! Taking illegal substances before surgery? That’s a cardinal sin for a doctor!” In the chaos, Emma Pratt, Gareth’s teenage sister, grabbed a scalpel and stabbed me multiple times. Blood gushed from my arteries, and I collapsed in a pool of crimson. As my vision faded, I couldn’t understand what had happened. I had never taken illegal drugs. Besides, I was absolutely certain of Madam Pratt’s blood type. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the moment right before stepping into the operating room.

My younger brother had stage four kidney cancer. Our parents demanded that I donate a kidney to save him. I told them I only had one kidney left. The transplant would kill me. Instead of listening to me, they forcibly strapped me to the operating table. “It’s just one kidney! Stop being so selfish!” they yelled. They did not care that I was telling the truth. Years ago, I had given my other kidney to save my father after his car crash.

My wife, Caroline Bailey, was a forensic pathologist. For her first love, Ian Lawson, she was willing to break every rule she held sacred and allowed him into the autopsy room to observe. She even let him throw acid onto a corpse's face. That was, until Caroline took on a new case. As she stood over the disfigured body on her operating table, she began to fall apart. The acid-burned face was starting to look more and more like mine.