Realism

When I'm having a meal with my family at home, I find out that my childhood sweetheart, Melanie Johnson, has given up on an opportunity to get promoted and transferred to the military base in the north for the sake of my cousin, Wilson Chandler. "Wilson's competence is only good enough for him to study at a local college in town. It so happens that Mrs. Holland is in poor health as well. I've already applied for a local college for you. We shall stay in this town together." My mom adds, "That's right. I did promise your uncle that I'll take good care of Wilson, so you need to help me take care of him too. You should just give up on Valmore College—it's useless for you anyway. When you marry Melanie in the future, you'll have to follow her to whichever military district she's going to." Before I can even speak up, Wilson's eyes redden instantly, making him look very aggrieved. "This is my fault for being a total loser. My parents aren't here anymore, not to mention I'm the reason why Charlie can't attend his dream college. Why don't you all just leave and do whatever you want? I'm fine being alone." The moment Wilson starts playing the pity card, both my mom and Melanie panic instantly and start doing their best to comfort him. Meanwhile, I return to my room quietly and withdrew the application that Melanie helped me submit. Luckily, I manage to apply to Valmore College one second before the submission deadline ends. Honestly speaking, I intend to study at Valmore College not just because I can be closer to Melanie in terms of distance, but I also want to watch the snow with her there. I want us to walk together in the snow till our heads turn white from the flakes, signifying the longevity in our relationship. But now, the person standing next to me as I watch the snowfall doesn't matter to me anymore. It's just that I need to watch the snowfall no matter what.

I paid the ultimate price in my last life for being too polite to refuse others. During a summer vacation, four children ended my life. "Talia, we’re already on the way to your place. We should be there in about two hours. No need to prepare anything special. Just keep things the way you normally do. Don’t fuss." I stared blankly as the voice came through my phone. The agony of my skin being scalded raw by boiling-hot stew was still vivid in my mind. When I had struggled and begged for help, those children had dragged me back together. In the chaos, I had fallen from the seventh floor and died with my eyes wide open. I glanced at the calendar on the wall. I had been reborn. In my previous life, my sister-in-law, Vanessa Mercer, had dumped her four kids at my home for the summer and left. I was forced to care for six children alone and was pushed to the brink of collapse. Simply because I wouldn’t let my nephew, Jaxon Mercer, play on his tablet for hours on end, and because I told him not to wander around the house in nothing but his underwear, the conflict escalated until it led to that horrifying death. My whole body trembled at the memory. I rushed into the bedroom, grabbed my identification documents, and fled toward the high-speed rail station with my two daughters, Kaia and Nova Mercer. "Mom, where are we going?" "I'm taking you on a trip. We’re going to have as much fun as we want!"

On the day my daughter is discharged from the hospital after recovering from the flu, I run into my ex-husband, Zachary Levine, whom I have been divorced from for seven years. He is there to pick up his wife, who has just given birth. He looks a little surprised as his gaze moves up and down to take in my clothes, which is still stained from my child's vomit. I had no time to change out of it earlier. "Long time no see. How have you been lately?" he asks. I smile and say I am doing fine. As we are about to part, he grabs my arm. "Alyssa, our son misses you a lot. If you are having any difficulties, don't push yourself. The passcode for the house in the north of the city is still your birthday. You can go there anytime." I politely decline, and he lets out a sigh. "After all these years, you are still as stubborn as you were back then. Don't hate me." I smile but say nothing. There needs to be love for there to be hate. But now, he is just a stranger to me.

My son’s family suddenly returned from abroad. I did not understand a single word at the dinner table. They were speaking in a foreign language. My grandson, Aiden, looked me up and down and said loudly, “Dad, Grandpa’s face is all bumpy and scarred. He’s lame, too. He’s so ugly!” My son waved his hand nonchalantly and said, “That was caused by a shell blast. Anyone who served in the military looks like that.” I did not understand their conversation. I simply placed the fish I had deboned onto his plate in silence. My grandson, however, became agitated. He picked up the hot soup and splashed it on my face. Then he cursed at me in broken English, saying, “Stay away, ugly monster! If it weren’t for you refusing to die, Grandma Sloane and Grandpa Wallace could’ve come home years ago!” My mind went blank. My wife had passed away decades ago. Who was this “Grandpa Wallace”?

I've been working for five years now. This is the first time my mom takes the initiative to call me to go home for the holidays. So I travel home with heaps of luggage. Still, I manage to free one hand to produce an envelope filled with cash and give it to my mom. A grin blooms on her face instantly. But when she realizes that there's only ten thousand dollars in the envelope, her grin starts to falter. "Oh, it only makes sense that you're the most manipulative out of the bunch after all these years." I pause momentarily as I'm about to go through the front door. "You've been working for quite a few years now, and yet you only bring home ten thousand bucks. Meanwhile, Sabrina gave us 100 thousand dollars in her first year of working a nice job. Having a bachelor's degree definitely pays off a lot!" Upon noticing how stunned I look, my mom yanks the gifts over right away. "Don't go around looking as though we owe you a life debt, Regina! See, Sabrina has better grades than you, and she doesn't have the intention of hiding anything from us. The gifts she always brings us are top-end supplements, so you should stop bringing us cheap stuff like this." I can only grip the hems of my shirt tightly. But the thing is, I'm the one with better scores back then…

My mom believed in one thing above all else: being number one. To achieve that, she created a strict daily schedule and even developed a monitoring app that required us to submit reports every day. Anyone who failed to rank first according to the app's evaluation would be tied to a chair and severely punished. No matter how difficult the task was, my younger brother, Jason Hunt, could always complete it and receive a perfect score. Even when he actually ranked last, the monitoring software would still display him in first place. As for me, a single misspelled word was enough to trigger a failing warning from the app, followed immediately by my mom's harsh punishment. At first, I tried to explain. Later, I stayed silent. In the end, I could only kneel and beg. My mom remained unmoved. "Trash doesn't deserve sympathy," she said coldly. "You'll thank me when you become successful in the future." On the first day of the New Year, my mom took Jason out to visit our relatives and exchange greetings. I, meanwhile, was burning with a high fever and could not even finish the day's assignments. Ignoring my illness, my mom dragged me into a bathtub filled with ice. "If you're trying to escape studying, you don't deserve to live," she said. "Pretending to be sick? If you've got the guts, then just die already." She forced my head underwater and raised a rod, smashing it against my skull again and again. I begged desperately for mercy, but it was futile. My mom left with Jason, and I curled up alone on the floor. She was right. Only those who work hard deserve to live.

My best friend, Mira Bolton, got into an online relationship with three rich men while impersonating me. One of them was an heir to an extremely wealthy family, the second one was a domineering pilot, while the last one was a cold and aloof professor who taught medicine. In order to siphon money from them, Mira told them that she wanted to marry them, but they'd have to pay her family three million dollars each as a form of monetary gift. After they agreed to Mira's proposal, she used my ID to register in three different marriages with them at respective times. Mira was terrified that she'd suffer from a fate worse than death when her wrongdoings were exposed. Right after she received the money, she told them she had cancer and needed to fly overseas to get it treated. That was how she disappeared with millions of dollars under her name. Eventually, they tracked me down using the information from my ID card. Daniel Newton, the rich heir, asked me icily, "Didn't you fly overseas to get your cancer treated?" I looked very confused by his question. Only then did they realize they had gotten tricked by Mira. Enraged, Daniel had me kidnapped and thrown into a rural village all the way in the mountains. Kevin Luther, the pilot, broke my legs and told me that I could forget about escaping from the mountains forever. Felix McQuinn, the professor, felt that it wasn't big enough of a punishment for me, so he personally removed my kidney from my body. In the village, I was reduced to a plaything meant for the villagers to toy with. In the end, I caught STDs and died in a filthy pig pen. When I wake up again, I've returned after Mira stole my identity and got into a relationship with them.

My mom gets buzzed at the family dinner and insists on burning my admission letter. She says, "You're a guy, and yet you can't get into Horvard University! What makes you think you can study at any university now? You might as well quit studying altogether!" I try to stop her from doing so, only for my dad to stop me instead. "It's just a stupid scrap of paper. Don't put a damper on your mom's mood, now. Can't you just retake the college admission exam?" Just like that, my fruit of labor gets burned to ashes. When I'm studying for the exam again, Mom keeps inviting people home for drinks. All I do is utter one complaint, and I get beaten to death by her drinking buddies. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the night of the family dinner. This time, I've swapped out my admission letter to the IOU her boss has told her to safeguard. Go ahead and burn it. Two years later, I'll be sure to visit you at your grave, Mom.

The new intern, Cynthia Joller, had posted about me online, claiming the company had made them use their leave for team building. No one wanted to fly all the way to an island to spend time with colleagues. However, what the internet did not know was that our company's team-building tradition involved booking a top-notch five-star resort every year: all-inclusive, family-friendly, with an extra three days of paid leave, and a $30,000 budget per person. The whole internet dubbed me a cold-blooded capitalist, so I decided to give in to their demands and issued a notice. [In response to employee feedback and to honor personal time, this year's team-building retreat has been canceled. Instead, a $500 allowance for personal travel will be provided.] The notice stirred up a commotion in the company. Long-time employees gathered at my office door, pleading for the return of the sunny Madiles retreat.

At the annual company raffle, I had barely stepped onto the stage when my supervisor, Lily Smith, pressed a crumpled slip of paper into my palm. "A special reward for our top salesperson," she chirped. "Go ahead, open it. Let everyone see." Under the eager gaze of the crowd, I unfolded the note. Written in messy handwriting were the words: Clean the company toilets for three days. The room erupted in laughter. Lily folded her arms, cocked her head, and smirked at me. "Nice, right?" she said. "Everyone knows those sales of yours came from sleeping with old men. Dirty money. To keep things fair, the others get a break, and you pick up a little extra work. You don't have a problem with that, do you?" The laughter surged again, nearly lifting the roof. From the side of the room, my boyfriend, Seth Hoffman, the company's CEO, watched everything unfold. As usual, he said nothing in my defense. They all thought I would fall apart, cry, or make a scene. Instead, I simply gave a calm nod. The very next day, the company was hit with over three hundred property cancellations. Its cash flow collapsed overnight. That was when Lily and Seth rushed to me, demanding I go plead with the buyers. I smiled and said, "No thanks. I wouldn't want to help the company recover and end up with strong numbers again. That might make everyone even more uncomfortable."