Watermelon Seed

I was four months pregnant when I discovered that my husband had fallen for our young family helper. He dropped to his knees and started slapping himself repeatedly with such force that blood rolled down from the corner of his mouth. He sobbed, swearing it was just a drunken mistake, swearing to me he'd never see her again. Thinking of the baby growing inside me, my heart softened, and I tore the divorce papers. The day I went into labor, I suffered serious complications. The baby was stillborn, and the umbilical cord was wrapped around his neck. He didn't even get the chance to cry. I was drowning in grief, but then my husband walked into the delivery room holding the family helper's baby in his arms. "Don't be sad, Kelda. She's willing to let you raise her child." My anger ran so deep that I bit my lip until it bled. It was all my fault! I had been treating him too well all these years. He had completely forgotten what I, Kelda Shaw, was really capable of.

Our entire class gets dragged into The Tyrant's Atonement game. The only way to escape alive is to reach a 100% atonement score. The system lets us choose our roles. The class belle, Isolde Adler, picks the tyrant's first love. Her atonement score shoots straight to 99% on the first day. The class president, Asher Brooks, chooses to be a loyal chancellor. His atonement score jumps to 80%. Spectators watching the game flood the screen with comments. "This new batch is smart and way better at picking roles than the last. They might just clear the game in three days." "Even if just one person hits 100%, the whole class goes free. I'm looking forward to seeing who finishes first." "My money's on the first love. She's already at 99%." Just as everyone starts celebrating, the next morning hits us with bad news. All 20 classmates who picked their roles are dead, and Isolde suffers the cruelest fate of all.

After I became a vegetable, Samuel kept me alive for two years with all sorts of tubes. I thought he couldn’t bear to let me go—until his true love returned to the country. He took my corneas and transplanted them to her. Right in front of me, he spoke to her with the utmost tenderness: “Don't worry; you'll be fine. These eyes have been prepared for you for two years.” As a result, I had an adverse reaction after the surgery and passed away. When he heard the news, his eyes turned crimson with rage, and he nearly smashed the hospital: ”Didn't you say there wouldn’t be any problems?!”

My husband's true love had kidney cancer 30 years ago. He gave up his fortune so she could participate in a cryogenic freezing experiment. He even tricked me into signing an organ donation consent form. "You're contributing to the country's scientific research!" Today, technology is much more advanced. My husband decides to revive his true love and treat her cancer. He also asks me to have my kidney transplanted in her body. After I say no, my son frowns. "How can you be so selfish? It's just a kidney." My husband is furious. "You're already dying, but her life will restart once she's revived from the cryogenic freezing!" My family forces me into the operation theater. My husband's even the one who handles the surgery. What he doesn't know is that I've already donated a kidney for the sake of his career. He loses his mind once he slices my abdomen open.

My husband was an air traffic controller. In our past lives, my daughter had a heart attack when the flight we were in faced a thunderstorm. I contacted my husband at the control tower to arrange for priority landing. At the same time, the other flight that my husband's soul mate was in crashed after being struck by lightning. My husband acted normal after that incident. However, later on my daughter's birthday, he locked my daughter and I in the house, and we were burned to death. "If you hadn't asked for priority landing, Kelly's flight would not have crashed! I don't think there is anything wrong with your daughter. You only did that out of your jealousy for Kelly, you caused the death of a few hundred innocent lives." My daughter and I did not manage to escape, we died horribly. The next time I opened my eyes, I returned to the day when my daughter was having a heart attack again. This time, my husband disconnected my call to the control tower completely. However, when he learnt that our daughter had died from a heart attack, he went crazy.

Everyone in Sparrowville said that Margaret Chapman was the happiest woman in town. Gavin Hartley showered her with gifts—a sapphire ring, an asteroid after her name—treating her like she was the center of his universe. Margaret had always believed it, too. Until the day she accidentally discovered the woman he had been hiding in his villa. For ten years, he had kept her there—his childhood sweetheart. After she lost herself to schizophrenia, she had said, "Margaret is me." And so, for nearly seven years, Gavin had courted Margaret and cherished her, playing out a love story that had never truly been hers. Margaret's heart crumbled to ash after she found out the truth. She left without looking back, moving to a country thousands of miles away. But she never imagined that Gavin would lose himself to rage, his eyes burning red as he nearly tore Sparrowville apart. "Where the hell is Margaret?!"

Ang aking asawa ay isang air traffic controller. Sa aming mga nakaraang buhay, ang aking anak na babae ay inatake sa puso nang ang flight na aming sinasakyan ay humarap sa isang bagyo. Nakipag-ugnayan ako sa aking asawa sa control tower para maghanda ng priority landing. Kasabay nito, bumagsak ang kabilang flight na sinasakyan ng soul mate ng asawa ko matapos tamaan ng kidlat. Ang aking asawa ay kumilos nang normal pagkatapos ng insidenteng iyon. Gayunpaman, nang maglaon sa kaarawan ng aking anak na babae, ikinulong niya ang aking anak na babae at ako sa bahay, at kami ay sinunog hanggang sa mamatay. "Kung hindi ka nagrequest ng priority landing, hindi sana bumagsak ang flight ni Kelly! Sa tingin ko ay wala namang problema sa anak mong babae. Ginawwa mo lang yun dahil sa selos mo para kay Kelly, ikaw ang rason ng pagkamatay ng ilang daang mga inosenteng buhay.” Ang aking anak na babae at ako ay hindi nakatakas, kami ay namatay nang kakila-kilabot. Sa susunod na pagmulat ko ng aking mga mata, bumalik ako sa araw na ang aking anak na babae ay inaatake muli sa puso. Sa pagkakataong ito, tuluyan nang nadiskonekta ng asawa ko ang tawag ko sa control tower. Gayunpaman, nang malaman niyang namatay ang aming anak na babae dahil sa atake sa puso, nabaliw siya.

My husband, Chandler Rotterdam worked as a researcher developing a new serum. Driven to find a cure for my cancer, he poured himself entirely into the project.  However, on the day of the injection, it wasn’t him who administered the treatment—it was his childhood friend, Pauline Hemsworth.  She had injected an unregulated dose, and I could do nothing but watch as my life slipped away. Even the child growing inside me was not spared.  Meanwhile, Chandler remained by her side.  “If this research succeeds, all the credit goes to you!” Chandler assured Pauline. “She would never blame you if anything happens. She’d be grateful to be the first to receive the drug.”  But the experiment failed. After discovering my death, Chandler lost his mind.

My husband insisted that I wear high heels at the company’s annual meeting despite being pregnant. He compared me to his female secretary with a look of disdain. "Can’t you learn from Lucille? She’s eight months pregnant and still comes to work in full makeup, handling her tasks efficiently. If you don’t wear them, don’t go. I’ll be embarrassed!" He even tried to give the high heels to his secretary and take her as his date. Left with no choice, I forced myself to wear them. However, on the balcony, the secretary tripped me, spilling red wine all over me. Limping, I found my husband, only for him to sneer, "Tripping on flat ground? How clumsy!" Furious and pale with anger, I turned to leave. Someone urged him to chase after me, but he only got angrier. "How bad could it be? She’s so timid—she can’t survive without me! Just wait. When the event’s over, she’ll definitely be waiting in the car to drive me home." Alas, he was wrong. I turned and went straight to the hospital for an abortion.

I was the stand-in who looked most like my husband's first love. He put me through countless plastic surgeries, both major and minor ones, until I became her exact likeness. But then, she came back from the dead. All it took was her saying, "I don't like anyone looking like me," and he sent me right back to the operating table once more. I begged him, telling him that my body couldn't handle it anymore. Alas, he only looked at me with irritation. "Seeing that cheap imitation of her face just disgusts me," he sneered. "No matter how close you come, you'll never be her." In the end, I died on that operating table. Yet, he went mad, trying desperately to recall what I once looked like.