Stories Anonymous

When Matthew Sinclair accused me of selling company secrets, I expected my girlfriend to stand by me. Instead, Selena Oxford told me to apologize. To the man who framed me. That was the moment I understood that trust was not something you pleaded for. You either had it, or you did not. I resigned the same day, cut every tie, left a ring on the table that she would never wear, and walked out of her life without looking back. I believed we would never cross paths again. Eight years later, at a black-tie banquet, Selena spotted me across the crowd. I was dancing with another woman, moving through the room as if I belonged there. In front of everyone, now known as a corporate powerhouse, she met my gaze with red-rimmed eyes and asked, "Was it for her? Is that why you left me eight years ago?"

When the SAT scores are out, I've scored 400 out of 1600. That's because I never wrote anything on my exam papers. My mom goes crazy, whereas my younger sister, Melinda Bolton, bursts into tears. But I just laugh at them instead. In my previous life, Melinda had formed a pact with the score-swapping system. That was how she swapped our SAT scores. She became the top scorer that all prestigious universities fought to recruit. I, the valedictorian of my year, not only got into a trade school, but I also got expelled from my previous high school. Melinda had the gall to comfort me. "Didn't you call yourself a genius, Melissa? Trade schools are very popular right now. In the future, you'll secure a job at a factory out there!" In this life, I spend my exam hours sleeping in my seat the whole time. Melinda wants to swap her scores, right? Then, let's do it properly!

When my daughter, Ruth Jensen, says for the tenth time that she wants a different mother, I don't get angry. I just calmly ask her who she wants instead. She blurts, "Vivian." She means Vivian Green, her tutor… and also the woman my husband has never been able to forget. At Ruth's birthday party that day, she even openly thanks Vivian, saying Vivian takes care of her like a mother. Looking at Ruth's young, innocent face, I finally understand that she doesn't like me. So, I stop caring for her and my husband the way I used to. Instead, I turn around and join a classified national project. Rather than wasting time on people who aren't worth it, I'd be better off serving my country!

On our wedding day, my wife's first love, Hank Scott, threatened to slit his wrists. She ignored him and went through with the ceremony anyway, until news arrived that he was dead, his blood staining the ground. From that moment on, Shirley Lowell withdrew into a convent, becoming the cold, distant woman everyone knew. In the name of atonement, she forced me to copy the Bible a thousand times and kneel in endless prayer, grinding me down until I was crippled. Bound to a wheelchair, I asked her for a divorce. She refused, saying we owed Hank a debt and had to atone for it together. She used my family to threaten me, keeping me by her side and tormenting me for the rest of my life. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on our wedding day. This time, I chose to push her toward Hank. I would become the first love in her heart, the one who led her onto the path of devout faith.

Six years after donating my heart to my wife, she destroyed the last of my family. Over those six years, she ended my mother’s treatment, letting her die slowly in agony. She deliberately caused a car accident that shattered my father’s spine, forcing him to watch my mother die while trapped in a paralyzed body. Even our daughter was not spared—locked away in a pitch-black basement, she starved to death alone. She did all of this for one reason: to force me—the heartless, faithless man she believed I was—to reveal myself. But during those six years, the love I once had for her turned into boundless hatred. I refused to let my soul dissipate. I stayed—waiting for the day she would learn the truth, and collapse under the weight of her regret.

I, Celine Walsh, and my dear sister, Caroline Walsh, became Pregnancy Maidens, who were fertile for merfolk, through the ingestion of special elixirs. We were betrothed to the merfolks through a political marriage. In my previous life, I had chosen a silver-finned merman who was powerfully built, but rough on the eyes. With him, I gave birth to several black-finned mer-children that were prized pedigree. Through them, I was elevated to the status of Crown Princess, enjoying a life of luxury and a prolonged lifespan of several centuries. Meanwhile, Caroline, who picked the purple-finned merman only ever gave birth to red-finned mer-children, which was considered the lowest of lows. For that, she became the laughingstock of the merfolk. Driven to madness by her jealousy, she took my inner pearl, turned me into minced meat and fed me to the fishes. When I finally opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day of my wedding. This time, Caroline quickly chose the silver-finned merman without any hesitation. Unbeknownst to her, rising to power through her children was not as easy as she had imagined. The silver-finned merman was a promiscuous and depraved one, the very embodiment of cruelty. His favorite activity? Torturing a pregnant lady…

The fifth year of my husband's affair, the system that had gone silent finally reappeared, telling me that I could go home. In the final week, I stopped arguing with him. I allowed him to go out with other women and stay out all night, and let him give away the things that I treasured the most to someone else. The day I was meant to leave was our fifth wedding anniversary. He burst into the house with Ivy, knocking over the food I'd prepared and pointing a shard of broken glass at me as he pinned me down by the neck. In a fit of rage, he questioned why I hurt Ivy and the baby she was carrying. "Since when did you become this cruel? You make me sick!" I smiled, not bothering to defend myself. "I did it all, and I really am that cruel. What, did you only realize that now? "Anyway, I wish you two a long, happy life together." As he stared me down, I viciously stabbed the artery in my neck, and my life in this world was finally over.

On our eighth anniversary, Claire Young announced that she had already registered her marriage with her childhood friend. She took him home, ordering me around as if it was only natural. "Move to another room. Stan loves sunshine." "Stan doesn't like sweets, so don't bake any when you're at home. He'd be upset if he saw it." I kept quiet through it all and bought a ticket to leave. My friend wanted to help me out of the predicament, but she didn't think it was a big deal. "He's just being dramatic again. Let him be—he'd be caving in just a few days." Everyone laughed at that, and quietly made bets as to when I'd come crawling back to Claire's feet. None of them knew I was already inducted into the national weapons program, and that I was really leaving.

In my previous life, I saved a fallen dragon prince on the day my sister and I were to choose our mates. In gratitude, he took me back to his clan and made me his concubine. A year later, I birthed a golden egg, producing a dragon heir. Overjoyed, the prince crowned me Dragon Queen on his Ascension Day, revered by all clans. Meanwhile, my sister wed a burly beastman, only to become his least favored concubine. Consumed with jealousy, she pushed me off a cliff during a ritual, ending my life. When I opened my eyes again, I saw my sister rushing toward the prince's hiding place, her intentions clear from our past life. I realized she had been reborn, too. But she didn't know that while saving the prince was simple, bearing his heir was a trial beyond measure.

The day before our wedding, my husband gives me a sapphire ring. I place a hand on my slightly bulging belly. As I lie on the operating table, I call him and tell him I want to call the wedding off. Shortly after, his secretary calls me tearfully. "I was the one who was impudent enough to select the ring, ma'am. Please don't blame Mr. Nolan for this. It's all my fault." Archer Nolan holds her in his arms and coaxes her gently for a long time. He only says one thing to me. "You're already carrying my child. Can you really bear to leave me?"