Story Letters

I'm diagnosed with late-stage cancer after undergoing a pre-employment medical checkup. My husband says the medication for my condition is expensive. He also says it can only relieve my pain, not treat the cause. I only have a year to live. Upon my husband's pleading, I agree to do an IVF. I endure the pain and put myself through torture to leave him with a child. However, I overhear him saying the child growing inside me isn't mine—it's his and his lover's. He's the one who wants me dead!

My best friend asked me to conduct a blood test on her before she got married to the richest man in the city. That was how I found out that she had AIDS. Due to patient confidentiality and her claim that her fiance would not mind, I did not tell him about her diagnosis. Later on, he contracted AIDS as well. When this happened, my best friend went online and pointed the finger at me. “Maya Sullivan intentionally kept the results of my blood test a secret. That’s why my husband got AIDS. It’s all her fault!” Even my boyfriend added fuel to the fire. “This isn’t the first time Maya has set Pearl up. She only got AIDS because Maya used an infected needle to take her blood sample!” No matter how much I insisted otherwise, everyone kept hounding me about it. To avoid the fallout, I was forced to move myself and my parents to another city to start fresh. However, in a fit of rage, Pearl’s husband crashed into our car and killed all of us. He was later sentenced to death, so Pearl inherited all of his assets. She then lived in luxury with my boyfriend. When I opened my eyes again, I discovered that I had gone back in time. It was the day that Pearl had undergone her health checkup.

After I was reborn, the first thing I did was bind my daughter, Maia Howell, and a seriously sick pig to a pain-transfer system. In my last life, when Maia was born, her skin was covered with sores. This caused her so much pain that she would often cry all night. My husband, Bruno Howell, told me he'd found a pain-transfer system that could save Maia, but it could only bind to another woman. For my daughter, I didn't hesitate—I bound the system and shifted Maia's rotten wounds onto myself. When Maia regained her health, Bruno dragged a stranger to me and said, "Claire is the one I've always loved. The part about the system only binding to women? That was a lie to trick you!" Maia shoved me to the ground in disgust and joined them. "Look at you, all covered in sores—how could you even be my mom? I’ll let you in on a secret. The night your daughter was born, Dad swapped me with her. To make you willingly bind to the system with me, I had to call you 'Mom' for ten years! Makes me sick even thinking about it!" They left me locked in the house to starve to death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the moment Bruno was convincing me to bind to the pain-transfer system.

On the eve of giving birth, my world turned into a nightmare. My husband’s sworn enemy broke into our home, seeking revenge. I was brutally cut open and my baby was ripped from me. Yet, I made the chilling choice not to call my husband for help. In my previous life, desperate and terrified, I begged him to return home. He abandoned a Valentine’s dinner with a scholarship student to rush back. That night, the student was preyed upon in a bar, leading to her tragic suicide. My husband’s wrath was unrelenting. Blaming me for her death, he locked me in a kennel, leaving me to be savaged to death. “This is the pain Wynne endured because of you. Now it’s your turn to suffer!” Given a second chance, I resolved to make a different choice. This time, I let him stay for his romantic Valentine’s evening with her. But when I returned home, he had spiraled into madness.

I was the Peacock Princess. On the day I came of age, suitors from every corner of the clan gathered, all eager to win my hand. I chose Silvan, the noble Green Peacock, believing him to be the finest of them all. But after our marriage, I gave birth to a third-tier White Peacock. When Silvan saw the child, his face twisted with fury. He snatched the baby from my arms, killing it in one brutal motion. In his rage, he attacked me, ripping me apart from neck to feather, and tossed my remains to the wild beasts for their feast. Meanwhile, my elder sister, who married a second-tier Blue Peacock, gave birth to a rare and magnificent Purple Peacock. Her husband was crowned the new King of All Birds because of their child. But when I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day I had first chosen Silvan. This time, he publicly rejected me, turning to my sister instead, convinced that marrying her would bring him the coveted Purple Peacock. I knew then that he had also been reborn. He believed he could change his fate and father a Purple Peacock with her. But in this lifetime, he wouldn't even be able to produce the humblest Black Peacock.

I'm back to that night I was drugged with an aphrodisiac. My sister, Rosa Spencer, drags the most aggressive guy in the village, Theo Dawson, into the woods without hesitation. In my previous life, both Rosa and I had been drugged at the same time. She jumped at the chance to be with the promising young intellectual, Dexter Newman, and I was stuck with Theo. After what happened, Dexter took responsibility without a second thought. He threw a huge wedding in the village and married Rosa. Meanwhile, I ended up marrying Theo in a rush, with nothing but a tattered quilt. Seeing this, Rosa burst into laughter. "You were born unlucky, and you'll never beat me! My husband's going to college. His future's limitless!" Yet, to my surprise, Theo changed completely after we married. He spoiled me endlessly and even became the richest man in the state. Dexter, on the other hand, failed his college entrance exam due to cheating and could only make a living by doing odd jobs. After seeing me become the wife of the richest man in the state, Rosa suddenly ran to my house in tears. "My husband's a total loser. Years have gone by, and we can't even afford a decent apartment!" Out of sisterly sympathy, I landed her a well-paying job. But when she came to thank me, she smashed a whiskey bottle over my head. "We're sisters! How come you get to live better than me?" When I opened my eyes again, I was back to that very night Rosa and I were both drugged with an aphrodisiac.

Two years ago, as a graduate of Werewolf Medical School, I volunteered to go to the most remote and poorest pack, as it had always been my dream to help werewolf patients in need. I heard from my teacher that the werewolves in the Rogue Pack were the poorest and that their living conditions were the worst. Most of the werewolves there were old and weak, so I volunteered to go to that pack as soon as I graduated. After I arrived, I helped them build an infirmary and even set up a blood station. Every year, I led them in voluntary blood donations. But one time—right after I had taken a short break following a blood donation—they turned on me. They slandered me, calling me a selfish and heartless healer. Worse still, they accused me of faking illness, claiming I was lying comfortably in bed while patients were dying—refusing to lift a finger to save them. Not only that, they stormed into the infirmary, seized all my herbs and equipment, and completely trashed the place I had built for them with my own hands. Recalling the days I had spent day and night healing them—only to see my infirmary destroyed and my dream shattered—I let out a bitter smile. I picked up the phone and called the dean of my home pack. "I'm ready to return," I said. "I want to serve the patients in our own pack." Then, without a trace of regret, I left that place behind. However, after I gave up, the whole pack regretted it and begged me to return.

I have a case of acute pancreatitis. I head to the hospital, but the doctors there refuse to treat me. Why? Because my husband is a doctor in the emergency room, and he's instructed everyone not to treat me. In my past life, he would show up with a single phone call. But, after his true love dies in an accident, he pushes the blame on me. On my mother's birthday, he poisons my whole family and repeatedly stabs me with a scalpel. "Does it hurt? Jackie was in much more pain before her death. If not for you, she wouldn't have gone out in my place. You killed her, so I'm making you and your family die for her!" When I open my eyes, I'm back to the day when I get acute pancreatitis after drinking the bar dry for his sake. This time, he runs to Jackie Morse without hesitation. He thinks he's made the right choice, but he later comes to me and grovels at my feet, begging me to take him back.

Hindi kamukha ng tatlong taong gulang na anak kong lalaki ang asawa ko. Naghihinala, ang father-in-law ko ay kumuha ng paternity test para sa anak ko. Ang resulta ay nagpakita na walang biological na relasyon sa pagitan nila. Galit at napahiya, ang father-in-law ko ay sumabog sa galit, nagbato ng mga insulto sa akin at pinagbantaan pa na patayin kami. Ang asawa ko, galit din, ay sinampal ako ng malakas sa mukha. “Walang hiya ka! Hinayaan mo ako na palakihin ang anak ng ibang lalaki ng tatlong taon!” Habang nakatitig sa kanilang nagaakusang mga mukha, kalmado akong gumawa ng isa pang report—paternity test sa pagitan ng asawa ko at ng kanyang ama. Kinumpirma nito na sila ay hindi din biological na magkaugnay. Ang kanilang mga ekspresyon ay napahinto sa gulat. Na may maliit na ngiti, sinabi ko, “Mukhang hindi natin alam kung sino ay hindi parte ng pamilyang ito, hindi ba?”

My boyfriend, Christopher Linden, was short of 20 thousand dollars for his medical treatment. To get the money as soon as possible, I participated in a rich man's game onboard a lavish cruise. I didn't bat an eye as I jumped into the ocean to search for a bracelet one of their female companions had dropped in the water. As I choked on the ocean water, I heard the man in the lead mock me, saying, "I've seen plenty of the dirty things people are willing to do for money, but you take the cake. You're even willing to give up your life for it." Someone teased, "Your girlfriend doesn't like money and is willing to forgo everything to care for you. Do you love her?" He snorted. "She's just a peasant from the countryside; I'm only fooling around with her. You have no idea how coarse her hands are—they disgust me whenever she touches me. How could I possibly fall for her?" I turned ashen at his words. He was Christopher, who was supposed to be wheelchair-bound. He was also supposed to be too broke for surgery. The peasant from the countryside he was talking about was me.