Emotional Turmoil Synonym Novels & Stories

I accidentally come across a post made by my mom's smurf account on the Internet. "Is it too cheap for me to prepare just a set of gold bars as a coming-of-age gift for my daughter?" My heart skips a beat. My parents are known for being extremely stingy. To think that they are willing to spend this much on me! I'm worried that my parents might overwork themselves just to prepare such a lucrative gift, so I take a screenshot and save the link to a three-year vacation tour that's priced at 999 dollars. Then, I decide to respond to the post as an anonymous user. "Your daughter will feel very happy as long as she receives her parents' love. No materialistic gift can ever outshine that." Five minutes later, Mom responds to me, "Thank you for your suggestion, but I've already taken my darling on a graduation trip in Enora last week. She had so much fun there."

As the sole heiress of the illustrious Chapman family, I am born with severe sensory hypersensitivity, causing overwhelming episodes. Raised like a princess by my three fiercely protective older brothers—Adam, Beau, Claude—every detail of my life is tailored to perfection. Even the temperature of my drinking water has to be measured to the decimal. Everything changes when a new intern, Sunny Sinclair, joins Chapman Group. She calls herself Sunny the Sunshine, yet all she does is lower her head and wipe her tears whenever trouble arises. Somehow, she bewitches all three of the Chapman brothers. Before long, they start calling me difficult and spoiled, praising her instead for being humble, sensible, and easy to please. Then comes my birthday party. Sunny arrives wearing my haute couture gown and breaks the vintage pearl bracelet my late mother has left me as an heirloom. With reddened eyes, she hides behind Adam Chapman, my eldest brother, and whispers, "I didn't mean to. I just wanted to touch it." My second brother, Beau Chapman, looks at me with icy contempt and scolds me for being spoiled. My third brother, Claude Chapman, gently wipes away Sunny's tears, comforting her. I stand there in silence for three seconds. Then, my hypersensitive attack strikes. Clutching my chest, I break down on the spot, sobbing until my whole body convulses before collapsing to the floor. The three brothers who have been condemning me earlier turn deathly pale. They drop to their knees in panic, begging me to breathe. Too bad. When someone with a rare condition like mine is pushed past the limit, the consequences can be life-threatening.

On the day we went shopping for college supplies, Mikayla, my younger sister, picked up a lace bedding set, her eyes sparkling. Mom put the item into the cart without glancing at the price. When it came to my turn, my brother, Cory, furrowed his brows at my choice of a blue bedsheet set. “Kaycee, why do you always reach for the cold-tone colors? “Girls should go for something softer. Be like Mikayla.” Even my childhood friend, Ben, chuckled. “No one in your dorm knows you anyway. Just pick whatever’s easy.” Mikayla shifted her gaze to the blue bedsheets in my hands and murmured, “Kaycee, why don’t you use my old ones? “It’s not like you mind anyway.” Mom was on board with the idea. “Don’t spend unnecessarily, Kaycee. Putting two girls through college isn’t easy on the family.” My grip on the sheets tightened. I knew exactly what Mikayla was talking about. The fabric was worn thin, the edges were pilled, and the pillowcase still had the coffee stain. Things had always been this way. Mikayla’s unwanted dresses, old backpacks, and tiresome room would go to me. I once believed that by staying in my lane, I would eventually get my turn. It had been eighteen years. All I got in return was that I never cared about what I got. At the checkout counter, Mom paid for Mikayla’s things. My blue bedsheet set was dumped back on the shelf. I grinned. No one would make note of the things I liked. I grabbed the blue bedspread. This time, I wouldn’t be putting it back.

The earthquake hit out of nowhere, and the whole class jammed up at the door. Rainee Bianco, our resident queen bee, jumped onto the podium. "Don't freak out! Get into the triangle zone and wait for rescue!" Yeah, no. Experts had already called that advice bogus. The so-called triangle zone wasn't safe. I looked out at the lawn. "We're on the third floor. Jump now, and we might actually make it!" Everyone froze for half a second. Then they started climbing out the windows. Everyone but Tristan Dodd, my childhood best friend. He bolted straight for the triangle zone. I ran after him, grabbed him, and dragged him out the window with me. He walked away without a scratch. I shattered my leg. After that, Tristan acted like I'd hung the moon. He took care of me every day, and after graduation, we ended up together. Then Rainee found out. She got drunk, fell into a lake, and drowned. The second Tristan heard, he shoved me off a cliff. "If I didn't owe you my life, you really think I would've picked you? She was right. This is all your fault!" When I opened my eyes, I was back at the exact moment he ran for the triangle zone. 'He wants to die this time? Fine by me.'

On the day we take our graduation photos, Mom and Dad hold up their cameras, snapping countless pictures of my boyfriend and my best friend. In the viewfinder, the two of them lean in close while my parents watch on with proud, beaming smiles, despite my being their biological daughter and the girl Gavin has been dating for the last four years. I stand off in the corner, clad in my cap and gown, waiting for what feels like an eternity, but Mom never once beckons me over to join them. Once Charlotte finishes her photoshoot, she mentions that she still hasn't lined up a decent job yet. Gavin completely forgets I'm even there and instantly leans in to comfort her. "Why don't you come work at the company I just joined? That way, I can look out for you." Dad nods right along in agreement. "Send me a copy of your resume, Lottie. I'll ask around for you. You shouldn't have to settle, especially when it's your first real job." Nolan walks over carrying a bottle of ice water, but he passes it to Charlotte. "Don't sweat the job hunt, Lottie," he says. "My company's hiring. I'll get you an internal referral." It's only when they catch sight of my hand freezing midair that everyone finally remembers that I'm standing right next to them. "Natalie, you should just find a random job and get on with it," Nolan says. Mom chimes in, "Exactly. You didn't major in anything special, so you should be grateful if a company even wants you. Stop being so picky." As Gavin scrolls through the gallery on his phone, his brow suddenly furrows into a frown. "Natalie's blocking Lottie in this one. I'm deleting it." But out of nearly 400 pictures, that's the only one where I exist. I stand off to the side, my hands tightening into fists. It turns out it isn't a matter of them failing to see me. They see me perfectly fine. They just think I'm a nuisance. It's as if Charlotte is their actual daughter, and my boyfriend belongs right by her side. If that's how it's going to be, then I'm taking the job farthest away from home, and I'm never coming back.

My younger brother, Oliver Lawson, calls me out of the blue and tells me that he wishes to transfer 30% of his company's shares to my name. "Daphne, you've helped me out far too much over the years. Now that my company is making profits, it's only fair that you receive these shares." Feeling quite surprised, I rush to OIiver's company. The paperwork is already laid out on the desk. Suddenly, live comments appear in front of my eyes. "Don't sign those documents! These aren't dividend shares! Instead, they are management shares, which makes you take on the company's debts! "Oliver's company can no longer pay off its debts! Once you sign the documents, you'll become the jointly and severally liable party! The 30-million-dollar debt will be saddled on your shoulders! "Your house, savings, as well as your daughter's school-district property will be seized by the court!" I hold the pen, yet I make no move to do anything with it. Oliver smiles as he pats me on the back of my hand. "What are you staring at, Daphne? Once you're done signing, you have to treat me to a nice meal, you know!" As soon as his hand touches mine, I hear his voice echoing in my mind. "Daphne has had it too difficult in this lifetime. After the divorce, she has been raising Emma all by herself. I've always wanted to give her something to help improve her life. "The dividends for the next quarter come to at least 100 thousand dollars. That should be enough for Daphne to clear her house mortgage. "Our parents left us far too early in life, leaving us to rely on each other. If I don't treat her well, who else will?" I can only hold the pen, feeling my fingers going cold. Who should I believe?

My name is Evelyn Brown. I represent the company in the IPO bidding process. Halfway through my presentation, I notice everyone in the room staring at me with puzzled expressions. In that instant, I realize my PowerPoint slides have been swapped for a "Paid Surrogate" advertisement. The wording is utterly humiliating. "I've lived the first 20 years of my life in a poor mountain village. I'm healthy and can promise a son. My price is negotiable." I rush backstage, only to see the impoverished student my father, Eric Brown, has sponsored for years laughing uncontrollably. Leaning against my fiance, Dwayne Woodruff, Katherine Cadwell says, "Oh, Ms. Brown, don't be upset! I was just teasing you to lighten the mood. You just got back home. Don't stress yourself out so much." I grab her arm, insisting she come out and explain herself. But out of nowhere, Dwayne shoves me to the floor. "You've just returned," he says. "We only pulled a little prank on you because we didn't want you to be too tense. If you can't handle even this amount of pressure, how can you be expected to take over the company?" I can't help but scoff. Right in front of them, I send the live recording straight to my father, the CEO. Without a second thought, I dial his number. "Dad, look at what your 'star scholarship student' just pulled. Can we have her and Dwayne kicked out of the company?"

My husband, Joseph Coleman, falls from the third floor, shatters both legs, and even injures what men fear losing most. I don't rush him to the nearest hospital. Instead, I drive him to a hospital two thousand miles away. In my previous life, Joseph jumped on purpose so the hospital intern he dotes on, Kimberly Parker, could secure a permanent spot by operating on him. He refused the capable surgeons nearby and insisted I take him to the hospital where Kimberly works, just so she can treat him. I turned him down because Kimberly is an untrained intern who got in through connections and has no surgical experience. Joseph had slapped me hard across the face. "I just want to use my injury to help Kim go permanent. Why are you being so petty?" He was dead set on Kimberly treating him. I worried the delay would ruin his legs, so I asked his mother, Diane Lowe, to talk sense into him. But what I never expected was Kimberly jumping from the hospital building when she failed her probation. Meanwhile, Joseph is treated in time, and both legs are spared. On the day he's discharged, I come smiling to take him home, but he runs me down with his car and kills me. As I collapse on the floor, choking on blood, I ask him why. He looks at me like I'm something stuck to his shoe. "If you hadn't stopped me from helping Kimberly go permanent, she never would've died!" When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day Joseph falls and breaks his legs.

My sister had struggled with depression since childhood. The doctor warned that she could not tolerate any kind of stimulation. As a result, my entire life fell silent. To avoid upsetting her, I never dared to laugh at home. I never dared to cry. When I got hurt, I did not even have the right to say it hurt. My parents would hug me with apologetic expressions and say, "You're the good one. Your sister's illness requires the whole family to work together. You're healthy. You're strong. Let her have more, okay?" One day, I accidentally knocked over a cup. The crash sounded enormous in the quiet room, and my sister's emotions shattered at once. My father struck me for the first time. He roared, "Can't you be careful? Do you have to push her until she dies before you're satisfied?" He shoved me to the floor. The back of my head slammed against the corner of the table, and blood poured out. But my whole family rushed to my screaming sister. No one even glanced at me. I lay on the cold floor as my vision blurred and my consciousness began to fade. To them, my sister's feelings were the only emergency. My small injury could wait. They did not know that bleeding inside the skull does not wait.

Two months after I died, it finally occurred to my parents that they'd forgotten to bring me back from their trip. My father scowled in frustration. "She was supposed to walk back herself. Does she really need to make such a big deal out of it?" My brother, ever smug, opened our chat and sent an emoji, along with a message. [You'd better die out there. That way, Scarlett and I will split Grandma's inheritance.] He received no reply. With a frosty expression, my mother said, "Tell her if she shows up for her grandmother's birthday on time, I'll let the whole pushing-Scarlett-into-the-water thing go." They never believed I hadn't made it out of those woods. After digging six feet into the ground, they finally found my bones deep in the forest.