Psychological Realism

It was Christmas Eve. Once again, my parents left me alone at home, chasing triple pay at work. However, after twenty years of the same lonely holiday, I couldn’t take it anymore. I didn’t want to sit in the quiet house by myself again, so I packed up some sandwiches and went to them. What I didn’t expect was to see them stepping out of a luxury car, arms linked with a boy who looked about my age, laughing like they didn’t have a care in the world, heading straight into a five-star hotel. “Mom, Dad, is it okay to leave Suzie all alone at home like that?” My mom waved it off and said, “It’s fine. She’s used to it.” My dad just brushed it off with a chuckle. “She’s nothing like you. You're our real treasure.” Upon hearing that, I turned and walked away. They'd been pretending to be broke all these years, lying to me about working overtime, about scraping by. Well, fine. If they don’t want me, I’m done wanting them, too.

Late at night, my sexy landlady knocks on my door and gives me a sultry look. "Do you know why I rented this place to you?" In the corner, her two daughters bite their lips and clutch the hems of their shirts, looking at me hungrily. "It's because you satisfy all our desires… You're not getting away tonight…"

When my son was born, I noticed a small, round birthmark on his arm. But the weird thing? By the time I opened my eyes again after giving birth, it was gone. I figured maybe I'd imagined it. That is, until the baby shower. My brother-in-law's son, born the same day as mine, had the exact same birthmark. Clear as day. That's when it hit me. I didn't say a word, though. Not then. I waited. Eighteen years later, at my son's college acceptance party, my brother-in-law stood up and dropped the truth bomb: the "amazing" kid I'd raised was theirs. I just smiled and invited him and his wife to take their "rightful" seats at the table.

The day my husband's first love, who was my sister, died, he sent me into the wilderness, all because I was not a match for the kidney transplant she needed. "Make sure Lisa can’t leave. For pretending to be Emma’s little sister, it’s time she learns her lesson," he ordered. I was abandoned in the dense forest, trapped, and left to fend for myself. Desperate, I sought shelter in a cave, trying to survive. However, wild animals soon picked up my scent and surrounded the cave. In the end, they tore me apart, and I died a brutal, painful death, with my body left exposed and torn in the wilderness. When Benjamin finally saw what was left of me, he lost his mind.

In my past life, my sister's secret lover says he wants to see a meteor shower. So, she takes all the family bodyguards and drives out to the countryside to create a romantic night under the stars for him. But she doesn't realize that an old enemy she once ruined sees the opening. They break into our home, seeking revenge and planning to wipe out the entire family. My mother throws herself over me to protect me, taking the brunt of the attack. She's critically injured and is barely hanging on. I call my sister again and again, begging her to come home. She eventually returns with the bodyguards, but it's too late. The enemies are caught, but then news comes in from the outskirts—her lover has disappeared, leaving behind a suicide note. In it, he blames me, accusing me of deliberately luring my sister away so that he would suffer at the hands of her enemies. Ultimately, he takes his own life. My sister burns the letter without a flicker of emotion. She says, "Don’t overthink it." Later, the blame falls on her. Our father promises to hand the family business over to me. But after the celebration banquet, my sister murders me in the bedroom. She stares at me with a blank face and snarls, "Someone as cruel as you should've died long ago. It should've been you who died, and the family inheritance should've been mine!" I die with a heart full of rage and disbelief. When I open my eyes again, I hear our enemies breaking down the villa doors.

My younger brother told me he was overwhelmed by school stress and had developed depression. I tried to help by encouraging him to seek treatment, drawing from my own experience with the illness. However, my mother blamed me, accusing me of passing the depression onto him. She took me to a witch, who locked me in the house. Every day, the witch used willow branches to drive away evil spirits, beating me until my skin was raw, forcing me to drink filthy water, and making me bleed. "This is the only way to banish the evil and bless your little brother." After enduring days of torment, my depression worsened, and I chose to end my life. However, when I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day my brother first confessed his depression. I looked at my body—whole and unharmed. This time, I will make them pay for everything I endured.

Christian wants only revenge on the man who destroyed his father's life, and he doesn't care who he makes the victim of his plans, as long as he achieves his goal. On the other hand, a married couple, the twins Lynnet and Linda, one scheming, envious with a heart full of evil, the other naive, gentle, who has been mistreated by everyone, face each other for Christian's love. Whom will the man choose? Will he be able to discover the true face of the twins before an innocent is harmed? Registration with Safecreative under number 210715835980. All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced or adapted in any form or by any means without the express permission of the author. This novel is a product of my imagination, so it is fiction, the conflicts of the protagonists or the way they resolve them does not imply that I, as a person, endorse their methods of conflict resolution. I am against any psychological, physical or cyber violence. If you can't stand conflict situations or scenes of this kind. Then I suggest you look for another story and not continue with this one.

Two weeks ago, my family and I went hiking and camping. When the storm hit and the mudslide erupted, my adopted sister shoved me into a ravine. My parents and fiance only cared about my sister. They remained completely unaware of my predicament. A week later, when the rescue team finally finds me, my parents accuse me of being selfish and malicious.—— "You clearly know that your sister is suffering from a terminal illness and is about to die, yet you still try to murder her!" they yell. "The bride for next week's wedding will be your sister. She has end-stage kidney cancer, and her dying wish is to marry your fiancé.Ethan. You have to agree to this!" "I agreed to their wedding, and for atonement. I am willing to donate my kidney to my sister, and I will also give her all the academic papers I own and the oil paintings I have collected." Seeing how sensible I was, my parents and my fiance all smiled with relief. They said, "I've grown up and become sensible. I'm no longer that willful elder sister who didn't know how to care for my younger sister." In my final three days, I will give them everything they want and leave behind a perfect image. And when I die, I hope they won't cry, mourn my death；

He is determined not to lose her again, so he musters all his courage to express his thoughts to her. He wonders why they can't be more than just friends and why they can't be lovers. However, her psychological condition is the main obstacle, causing her emotions to be in constant conflict.  The young man comes from a wealthy family; he is a billionaire with a mysterious past that remains unknown to society. Only the lady knows his deepest secret and has played a significant role in his life in the past. When they meet again, the memories of his past come back to him. Then the billionaire hopes that maybe, at present, they can be more than just friends. However, the lady wants to say goodbye to him.  Would she stay? Or would she say goodbye?  Will they fall in love? Or is it impossible?

To encourage overall development, the kindergarten had asked each student to create a hand-drawn poster. My daughter Holly refused my help and insisted on doing it all on her own. Little did I know, most of the other children had their parents do the artwork for them. In comparison, Holly's delicate strokes were quickly dismissed. Not only was her work discarded into the trash, but her teacher also called her out in the parent group, criticizing her for being careless with the assignment. As I racked my brain trying to figure out how to help Holly regain her confidence in drawing, I was surprised to see Holly's artwork among the winning entries in the state-level children's art competition. But the signature wasn't hers—it belonged to another student from her class.