Spongebob Box Imagination Novels & Stories

In my previous life, everyone in my family could hear my mother's inner thoughts. I managed to land a new job. The pay was high, and the benefits were great. Instead of being happy for me, she was deeply anxious. She thought, "With her education and her abilities, how could she possibly get a job like that? She must've slept her way to it." After my father heard that, he refused to let me go to work. He stormed into my workplace, made a huge scene, and got me fired. I was furious and decided to move out for a while and stay at my boyfriend's place. On the surface, my mother supported my decision. Deep down, however, she was desperately trying to stop me. She thought, "What should I do? That boyfriend of hers has been married for years. He even has a child. She's someone's mistress. "If she really moves in, that man's wife will surely have a go at her. She'll embarrass the rest of us!" To keep me from leaving, my younger brother broke both my legs with a stick. Then, they locked me inside the house and leave me to suffer on my own. My wounds festered and became infected. I begged them to take me to the hospital, but my mother sighed inwardly, thinking, "She's so rebellious. No matter what anyone says, she insists on leaving this family. "In truth, there's nothing wrong with her legs at all. Once she gets to the hospital, she'll definitely escape." After that, everyone ignored my pleas and left me to die in agony. Even at the very end, I never knew who was to blame for my death. When I open my eyes again now, I realize that I, too, can hear my mother's inner thoughts.

When the zombie apocalypse hit, pets leveled up into guardians. Three per person. That was the cap. My buddy dropped serious cash on three Caucasian Shepherds. My landlord dumped his fish and started raising crocodiles. My girlfriend bolted to the zoo and came back with a lion. Me? I had three strays. Bubba—blind. Missy—lame. Snowy—barely a month old. The second the system locked pet slots, I knew I was screwed. I barricaded myself inside with my three "broken" cats and kept my head down. Day one—fear. Day two—helpless. Day three—the cats strolled back in, tails up, dragging something I didn't recognize. Bubba looked at me. "Dad, I bit off every zombie head on the block. I'm solid, right?" I just stared.

My childhood friends switched their university of choice behind my back. Going to the capital, they enrolled in an elite university with an exchange student. To them, I was just a tool who could not survive without them. That impression lasted until the opening ceremony of an Ivy League university. As the representative of the new students, I stood at the center of the hall. Meanwhile, the youngest PhD advisor in the entire country watched me as he smiled. Beyond the world of the novel I lived in, the readers’ comments went wild. [Shouldn’t she be crying back at home? Why is she in an Ivy League university?] However, the next part was even crazier. That man actually asked me to be his girlfriend yesterday. He was Professor Samuel Grant, the one who had rejected my four childhood friends from studying under him. When my childhood friends left me behind to chase after that manipulative witch, they never expected me to cast aside my role as someone running after them. I ended up holding a full-ride scholarship and reached heights they could never touch.

Sharon Deleon, the campus belle, has secretly stuffed a folded piece of paper into my pencil case five minutes before the start of the postgraduate admission exam. A series of comments streak across my vision. "The paper is filled with answers to the exam questions! Sharon has already lodged a report to the teachers. The school proctor will be here soon. Once that paper is found in Cassandra's pencil case, her admission recommendation will be terminated immediately!" "Hmph! This is all that nerd's fault for standing in Sharon's way to success! The proctor is Sharon's uncle, after all! Cassandra's doomed today!" The next thing I know, the proctor strides into the classroom angrily. He makes a beeline to my seat right away. "Someone has reported you for cheating. Dump out the contents in your pencil case right now!" I just do what I'm told with a blank look. There are only a few pens in sight. The folded piece of paper, however, isn't there. Sharon widens her eyes in shock. "How could this be? But I'm very sure that I—" Before she can finish speaking, a folded piece of paper containing the answers falls out of her pocket. Everyone doesn't know that I'm capable of reflecting misfortune by nature. Whoever sabotages me will get a dose of their own medicine instead.

The yacht that my parents and my younger sister, Amanda Portman, were on exploded in the middle of the sea. None of them survived. Despair and heartbreak fill my senses when I'm faced with an empty home and an astronomical debt. Just as I'm about to jump off a rooftop, I see comments appearing before my eyes all of a sudden. "The truth is, your parents have won a jackpot of 300 million dollars. They've taken Amanda on an overseas trip for some fun!" "Heheh! Amanda doesn't even know that the so-called poor and blind boyfriend, whom she's just broken up with, is the heir of the Wright family. He's just pretending to be poor around her." "Once Amanda comes home after spending all of her money, she will get imprisoned by the enraged Mr. Wright as a form of punishment." "Hey, cannon fodder! Hurry up and die already! I can't wait for Amanda to make her glorious return!" It's at that moment I decide not to die. That night, I barge into Xavier Wright's rented apartment while completely drunk and drenched.

The zombie apocalypse had arrived, and pets could transform into guardians to protect their owners—each person was allowed no more than three. My best friend had spent a fortune on three Tibetan mastiffs. The landlord cleared out a fish tank to raise a crocodile. My boyfriend? He had stormed the zoo and dragged a lion home. And me? I only had three stray cats. The eldest was blind, the second one limped, and the youngest had just turned one month old. The moment the apocalypse system announced that pet slots were locked, I knew I was doomed. I tried to hide with my three disabled cats, hoping to survive quietly. Day one of the apocalypse: terrified… Day two: helpless… Day three: my cats sauntered over, tails swishing, carrying some unidentifiable object. "Mama, I bit off all the zombie heads on this street. How's that? Solid enough?" I was rendered speechless.

After the mission failed, I traded my emotions away with the system so that I could return to my own world. But two years later, the system urgently summoned me back. The system said my target had tried to destroy the entire world, and all she wanted was to see me. I rejected it on the spot. Even though I had already lost my emotions, I still did not want to stay next to someone who had hurt me out of rationality. The system grew frantic and threw out one reward after another. In the end, we agreed that I would only go back for three months. Once I returned, not only would my emotions be restored, but I would also receive a huge sum of money. Legal and after tax. But when I returned to Jessica Sand's side with no emotions at all, her madness seemed to have become even more erratic…

My SAT scores are out. It turns out that I'm the top scorer of my state. But I insist on applying to an obscure, third-rate private college in front of my friends and family. Everyone thinks that I've gone nuts. Mom even gets down on her knees and begs me not to destroy my future. "You can go to any top college you want! Why must you attend that trashy college instead?" I remain unmoved despite the fact that everyone keeps convincing me to change my mind. What they don't know is that if I don't go there, everyone will die in three days.

I opened my eyes and found myself back at the matchmaking event again. Grandpa pointed at seven jacked jocks and said, "Pick one. They've all been trained." Remembering how they had shared and humiliated me to death in my past life, I threw up on the spot. This time, I pointed at Grandpa's sworn enemy instead. "I want to marry that terminally ill guy who can't have children." Later, that powerful man wrapped an arm around my pregnant belly, while we watched them all go to prison with that spiteful woman.

My boyfriend thought I was too fat at 121 pounds. I signed up for a gym and started working out like crazy, but the more I tried to lose weight, the more I gained. Meanwhile, my best friend, Chloe Woods, was doing late-night eating streams every single day, stuffing herself with steaks, seafood, and greasy takeout. Not only did she not gain weight, she dropped from 154 pounds to 143. When my boyfriend started tearing into me even worse than before, I suddenly heard the tabby cat’s voice in my head. “You idiot. Chloe’s got you trapped in a weight-swap system. “No matter how hard you try to lose weight, she’s the one getting thinner. Every pound you lose is a pound she drops. She’s trying to ruin you.” I froze and turned to look at my best friend, Chloe. She was staring at my boyfriend without even trying to hide it, her eyes full of admiration. Then the tabby’s voice exploded in my ears again. “Chloe is obsessed with that trashy loser. Once she gets skinny, the two of them will hook up. Then they'll team up to get you killed and spend your settlement money living a happy life.” The moment I learned the truth, I smiled. Since my so-called best friend wanted to be skinny that badly, if I made her whole body weigh less than 50 pounds, she’d probably be very grateful to me, right?