Psychological Realism

If we psychologically damage an individual beyond repair, what will be the consequence of it? We all have a limit to the amount of mental and psychological stress we can take. Once the stress exceeds the limit, we’ll reach our breaking point. What happens after that is a mystery no one can solve, or is it? Lydia Johnson faces a similar situation. She is a complex young woman who faces a downfall stemming from the mental and physical abuse of her father and siblings, the negligence of her mother, and a chilling secret. From abused to loved, to abused again--that’s how life is for Lydia. Her family taught her only one lesson: emotions are for the weak and the weak don’t have a place in this world. With each kill, Lydia atones for the loss of her innocence by getting rid of another emotion and also rids the world of someone undeserving of her love and forgiveness. What lengths will she go to, for revenge, and prove her resilience? Will she ever be able to live her life like a normal person again? Or will she continue killing everyone until her own death?

It was the holiday season and I was on my way home when the traffic on the highway came to a standstill. Suddenly, a Maybach came speeding down the emergency lane and slammed right into my car. The driver jumped out and started yelling, jabbing his finger in my face. “Are you blind?! Don’t you know cars turning should yield to those going straight?” I frowned. “My car broke down and this is where I’m supposed to be. You’re the one who broke the traffic laws, yet you’re blaming me for this?” “Traffic laws?” he scoffed, full of arrogance. “I’m the law in Jacksboro City. That Volkswagen piece of junk you’re driving is not even worth one of my Maybach’s tires!” Then he pulled out a baseball bat and smashed it down on my car. He even threatened to break my legs and demanded compensation. I sneered. “Sure, this may be a Volkswagen… but why don’t you take a closer look at the special clearance permit on the windshield?”

The night my parents were kidnapped, my brother—who happened to be a police officer—chose to go bungee jumping with the fake heiress. I didn't stop him. Instead, I called the police and began preparing the ransom. In my previous life, my brother had forgone the outing to rescue our parents. As a result, the rope snapped during her jump, sending her plummeting into the abyss. Her body was never recovered. He never spoke a word about it afterward. On my birthday, he drugged me and dragged me to that very cliff. "You orchestrated the kidnapping! You'd go this far for their attention? You're nothing but a monster! Lillian is dead. You don't deserve to live either!" When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the night my parents were kidnapped. This time, my brother didn't rush to their rescue. Instead, he ran to the fake heiress. But in the end, he regretted it so much that he nearly lost his mind.

A stunning married woman came to me, asking to share an apartment. She could not afford the rent, so she offered to pay with her body instead. I thought I had conquered her both body and soul, but it turned out she had other intentions. What I had believed was a moment of passion turned out to be a dangerous trap, as this woman was a black widow. She snuggled up to me, laughing softly. "Don't you know that lust is a double-edged sword?'"

I'm a special kind of courier. Instead of packages, I transport beautiful women. I drop them off at designated locations and pick them up afterward. Each round trip earns me a thousand dollars. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that my crush would climb into my car one day. What's more, she'd brought my sister along, saying they wanted to make some quick money together.

On Christmas Eve, my six-year-old, Yule, was dying from cancer, and all he wanted was a gift from his dad dressed as Santa. I called Peter, my husband, begging him to come. His reply? "Can you stop blowing up my phone? I don't have time for this! I'm helping Tracey find Puffy. Do you know how upset she is?" Oh, Tracey. His first love. And Puffy? Her dog. I told him Yule might not make it through the night. His response? A straight-up dagger: "Don't act like this isn't your fault, Freya. If Yule hadn't kicked Puffy, none of this would've happened. Tomorrow, make sure he apologizes to Tracey." Then he hung up. That night, I sat with Yule, crying as I helped him celebrate his last Christmas. By morning, Peter's social medias were still full of posts about that freaking dog. Mine? Yule's obituary. Ten years of marriage, gone.

On the day of my birthday, my cousin, who does ballet, falls and injures her leg. My father smacks my leg with a club in a fit of rage. I cry out in pain, but he doesn't care. He sneers and says, "Now, you know how it feels! Why didn't you stop to think how much pain your cousin would be in when you pushed her and made her fall down the stairs?" He hits me with all his might until I can't make any more sounds. To drive the lesson home, he shoves me into the basement, uncaring that I'm on the brink of death. "I'll let you out of there once you stop thinking these dirty thoughts, Yvonne!" But when he opens the door to the basement once more, all he sees is my decomposing corpse.

My wife was gone for 6 months on a business trip. The day she returned, however, she was not alone. Hand in hand, my wife showed up with her lover—my client. This was not even the worst part—she was also 3 months' pregnant. My client, in all his beer-bellied arrogance, hurled the contract at my feet, smirking. "Mr. Carter, your wife has gone to so much trouble for this partnership. Truth be told, I would never, not even in a million years, have agreed to partner with you if it wasn't for her!" My wife caressed her pregnant belly and said smugly, "I was the one who successfully got Mr. Lewis' business! I'll let you have it, though, as long as you agree to get a divorce!" I tore the contract into shreds and roared, "You want a divorce? Fine! I'll give it to you, but I'll never sign this!"

In the opulent halls of the Stanley manor, Judy Kent, the daughter of the family chauffeur, grew up alongside Chris Stanley. Their childhood bond blossomed quietly, a tender friendship that seemed unshakable. But Chris' traumatic kidnapping left him with deep psychological scars, manifesting in a peculiar fixation directed solely at Judy. Tragedy struck when Chris' father died in a car accident. With Judy’s father on leave that day and a substitute driver behind the wheel, Chris' grief turned into misplaced hatred toward Judy’s family. Their once-close bond shattered. Consumed by bitterness, Chris withdrew from her and inflicted emotional torment, even coercing her into signing a contract that bound her to him. Yet beneath the layers of anger, Chris' love for Judy never truly faded—it was merely buried under his rage. When the truth of the accident finally surfaced, the weight of Chris' actions drove Judy to walk away, unable to reconcile with the pain of her past. Only then did Chris realize the depth of his mistakes. Overwhelmed by guilt, he vowed to make amends, embarking on a desperate pursuit to win back her love and trust. But can Judy’s fractured heart mend? Will their shared history and enduring connection be enough to overcome the barriers between them? Or has too much been lost in the wake of betrayal for love to flourish again in the manor’s shadowed corridors?

When my parents were having an argument, my brother and I were put on the condenser fan unit out the window. We were tens of stories high. Our love-struck mother refused to let us back inside because he wanted our father to regret his decision. But that wasn't going to happen. Our father only felt that our mother was annoying. He then went out of the house after slamming the door behind him. Our mother was infuriated as she pointed as us. "If it weren't for you two drawbacks, I would have divorced him a long time ago. Shut your mouths or you can forget about coming back in!" My tears were blew dry by the cold wind. I swore inwardly that I would never forgive them. Later on, when our father was drunk driving and accidentally rammed into our mother. The two of them became disabled due to the car accident. The insurance company paid us over 1 million dollars, but I chose not to treat them.