The Narrow Corridor

My sister ate the half plate of mango I had left on the table and broke out in hives from her allergy. My brother stormed over, pried my mouth open, and poured the mango juice straight down my throat. "You love mangoes so much, don't you? Today you'll get your fill." The juice flooded my lungs. I choked, fighting for air as my throat swelled in agony, begging him to save me. Instead, he turned and locked me in the basement. "Betty suffered because of you, so don't expect any comfort. Stay down here and reflect on what you've done. Growing up without any real guidance. No wonder you're so vicious." Two days later, my mom remembered me. "Ralph, that's enough. Let Catherine out. If she stays there much longer, she might start resenting Betty." My dad chimed in casually, "What's the big deal? Just buy her something nice to make up for it." My spirit clung to his back, floating along with them toward the basement. I'd like to see how they were going to compensate a dead girl.

The Lighthouse at Black Hollow The storm came in without warning. One moment the sea beyond Black Hollow was silver and calm, and the next it was a heaving wall of iron-gray waves crashing against the cliffs. Wind screamed through the narrow streets, slamming shutters and rattling doors like impatient fists. Sixteen-year-old Mara Ellison stood at her bedroom window, heart pounding—not from the thunder, but from the light. It had flashed three times. Not lightning. The lighthouse. The old lighthouse had been dark for years.

After three years of union, Valerie was finally pregnant with the heir to the Alpha of the Black Shadow Pack. But on their anniversary, Aaron Garth's first love returned. When he demanded to break off their mate bond, Valerie didn't hesitate. She signed the papers, turned away, tore the pregnancy report into pieces, and vanished. Until one day, a chance meeting in a hospital corridor brought them face-to-face. Aaron's control shattered at the sight of her rounded belly. He seized her wrist, his voice a hoarse, desperate growl. "Whose pup is that?" Valerie wrenched her arm free, her gaze icy. "That's none of your business. You're no longer my mate."

During the year that changed my life, my high school homeroom teacher called me to the corridor and asked if I was the heroine of the dirty scandal that shook the whole school. “I know you’re here on a scholarship because of your family’s underprivileged background, but you can’t just do anything for money!” As everyone threw me strange looks, she continued smugly, “Don’t deny it. The mole on the girl’s neck is just like yours!” I calmly wiped off the ink stain on my skin, revealing my unblemished neck. My teacher turned red in the face. Unfortunately for her, I had been reborn. This time, I was not going to fall into the same traps.

It's my third day of being a ghost, and I feel like I'm going to starve to death again. The underworld messenger takes pity on me because I'm a child and secretly tells me that people like me, who suffered grievances and died with resentment, have to stay by the sides of the people who loved us most in life. Then, we survive on their "guilt". I lower my head and narrow my eyes. I choke up and say, "You might as well just leave me to starve." My mother hated me to the core. Why would she ever be guilty over my death?

Selina Alistair, a young woman in her mid-twenties, has faced more than her fair share of hardships in life. Orphaned at a young age and cast out by her stepfather, she and her siblings were left to fend for themselves. But their struggles only multiplied when they became the target of a deadly assassin. After a narrow escape, Selina found herself in a strange, unfamiliar room, bound and gagged. With only her wits to guide her, she managed to break free and make a daring escape, and along the way, she came across a cold hearted billionaire, Lucas William. What happens when an unexpected events happened and it turned out to be that the Billionaire has something to do with the assassin? Is she safe?

Ritian got transmigrated inside the unfortunate land of excessive trees and barren sea of Cabato. Having his journey from being a pitiful scratch to a definite catch, he was with Wenren. A martial hero who foolishly lost his sense of sight; and propriety. Together they conquered big bosses. Piercing the armor of death himself and make a narrow escape hand in hand. They promised to dedicate themselves in protecting the other. There's one crucial thing that Ritian wanted to clear about their relationship though. "Wenren, do you want to sleep with me?" "I'm not gay." Indeed, this is a difficult thing. Ritian needed to cross this non-existent barrier between them. Because even if Wenren doesn't want to, he himself kept on dreaming about it.

An accident right from when Mark Scott was in his mother's womb granted him Electric powers. His mother died from the electrocution accident and he was born prematurely. Placed in an incubator for two months, he survived. Mark's dad discovered his son had electric powers when the former was still young. A narrow escape from the American government led them to hide and settle in an African Country, Nigeria ( His late mom's country). He concealed his powers until he reached the age Seventeen, where he had to use it in a life and death situation, which almost exposed his identity. But seems he will have to use his powers again, when Nigeria and the rest of Africa is endangered by a foreign threat.

A week before our wedding, my fiancee, Lauren Blair, went to the hospital for a prenatal checkup. She was accompanied by her newly hired assistant, Ian Kane. Coincidentally, she ended up being assigned to my clinic. I stood there holding Lauren’s pregnancy report in my hand, staring through the narrow gap in the door at the two of them outside. Ian pulled her into his arms by the waist, confessing with aching tenderness, "Lauren, I love you." "I love you too, Ian. I'm only married to Sam because of the circumstances I’m stuck in, but you've always been the one who holds my heart." I stopped hesitating. I pulled out my phone and sent a message to my father. "Dad, I accept the marriage alliance with Ms. Sheridan. The wedding date can remain. Just change the bride."

The night before our wedding, my fiancée let her so-called "best friend" butcher the gown my late mother had sewn, chopping it into a revealing mini dress. I rushed over with the ruined dress in my arms, ready to demand answers: only to catch their voices through the door: "Imagine him expecting me to wear something a dead woman stitched. What a curse!" Through the narrow gap, I saw my distant, frigid fiancée flushed with color, straddling his lap. "What we did at the bridal shop wasn't enough," she murmured. "Tomorrow, walking down the aisle in this tiny dress you made me, it'll be even more exhilarating." Their lips met. My hand froze against the door, and inside, something broke with a soundless crack. If she longed for thrills, I would grant her some.