Emotional Turmoil Synonym Novels & Stories

One day, at work, there was an emergency surgery. As the doctor in charge, I reassigned the hospital’s only remaining dose of a highly sought-after specialty drug. The moment I stepped out of the operating room, I was escorted away by the Office of Medical Affairs and Governance. They accused me of improperly authorizing the use of a restricted medication and informed me that my medical license could be revoked. As I struggled to defend myself, a new intern hired by the chief of my department sent me a message. [Dr. Britton, how could you reassign a restricted medication without approval? Dr. Guzman worked incredibly hard to secure that drug for the department. You can’t just take it because you feel like it! I have a responsibility to help the chief keep things running smoothly, so I reported you to Medical Affairs. Doctors are supposed to put patients first. Someone like you doesn’t deserve to wear a white coat. From now on, every medication request in this department will require both my review and signature!] I could not help but laugh when I read it. That intern had only been in the department for a month. Seeing how approachable and easygoing the department chief was, she had apparently decided that it was her job to police everyone else. What she did not know was that my grandfather owned the hospital. That imported miracle drug everyone had been fighting to obtain? I had led the research team that developed it. In fact, I held the patent. Even the eight-hundred-dollar monthly stipend she received as an intern came from the funding allocated to my research program. How could using a drug I myself had invented ever constitute a protocol violation?

On our son Benjamin White’s sixth birthday, my husband, Finnian White, stayed out all night taking care of his sister-in-law, Violet Soar. His reason was that she had called because she sprained her ankle. I called him dozens of times, but all my calls were declined. Then, I saw Violet post on her social media feed with the caption: [Finnian is such a good brother-in-law! He came right over when I called!] The attached photo showed Finnian holding her slender ankle. Heartbroken, I confronted him and asked what he had done with Violet that night. He looked at me coldly and said, “Why does your mind always go straight to the gutter? All you know how to do is throw a tantrum at me!” Even Benjamin looked confused and said, “Dad just took care of Aunt Violet for one night, Mom. Why are you acting like a shrew?” Their cold attitude hurt me. This was not the first time. I finally decided to give up, activate the system, and leave this world.

The day I took over the Fraser Group, my brother posted a video that completely blew up the trending topics on the internet. In the video, he spoke with righteous indignation, "Lyra Fraser is just an illegitimate daughter! What right does she have to inherit the company? "My father is incredibly biased. I demand justice for my late mother!" Hundreds of media outlets scrambled to repost the video. In an instant, the hashtag ‘#FraserGroupLyraIsAnIllegitimateDaughter’ had racked up over 200 million views. The Fraser Group's stock price plummeted drastically and my father was forced to suspend the succession ceremony temporarily. Despite the onslaught of endless abuse and curses, I didn't panic in the slightest. Because my stupid, moronic brother was just an adopted son.

Ever since I was young, I've always been the one made an example of. It's as though I exist solely to teach my older brother, Irwin Blanchard, a lesson. When Irwin spends 50 dollars in an online game, Mom makes me pay off the debt for Irwin so that she can teach him to cherish money. When Irwin gets caught for stealing, Mom forces me to kneel down in front of the store owner and slap myself repeatedly while begging for forgiveness. This is her attempt to teach Irwin to always feel shame and be humble. After Irwin starts junior high, he gets addicted to soft drinks. That's when Mom fills soda bottles with pesticide and places them in the most obvious spots in the living room. When I accidentally drink from a soda bottle, I'm in so much pain and agony that I keep rolling all over the floor. Dad quickly drives me to the hospital that night. On the way there, we are flagged down by a traffic officer, who's there to catch those who drink and drive. Even though Dad has already passed the breathalyzer test, Mom exclaims while laughing, "Your device really is useless! He already had a bottle of beer, and yet it couldn't even detect the alcohol in his breath!" Meanwhile, I feel as though my guts are on fire as I curl up in the backseat. Yet, Mom turns to stare at Irwin. "You see now? This is what you get for drinking!" Too engrossed in nagging Irwin's ear off, Mom fails to notice the fact that my breathing is growing weaker. Mom, are you happy now that your lesson has cost me my life?

When I reach the underground parking lot, I find out that my husband, Victor Blake, has parked his car in a slanted manner. Great, his car has taken over my parking slot again. I call him and tell him to get his ass downstairs so that he can move the car out of my parking slot. While waiting for him, I come across a post on the Internet. "I'm screwing the brains out of my mistress right now. What should I do to avoid getting discovered by my wife, who might be home anytime soon?" The comment section goes nuts. Apparently, the original poster has left a like on one of the comments. "Park your car in a way that it eats into your wife's parking slot. That way, she'll have to call you every time she gets home. Not only do you have time to clean up the scene and protect your mistress, but you also get to tell your wife in a righteous manner that you're reserving a parking slot for her." I frown immediately. As soon as I tap on the WhatsApp chat, I hear someone knocking on my window. Victor can be seen jiggling his car keys outside the car. "What's with the rush? I did this just so I can reserve a parking slot for you, you know."

During our company's Black Friday sale, an intern took it upon herself to change "Spend $300, save $50" to "Spend $300, save $350." In my previous life, I was the Director of E-commerce Operations. I shut down the servers immediately and stopped the company from bleeding nearly ten million dollars. At the year-end party, the intern stood in front of everyone with tears in her eyes, playing the victim. "Erin, all I wanted to do was drive user acquisition through a loss-leader growth hack!" "Customers would have come back to repurchase after getting the discount. Who gave you the right to cut off the company's revenue by killing the servers?" She posted a viral thread on Instagram: Gen Z Takes on the Workplace: How My Outdated Boss Sabotaged My Brilliant Idea. Strangers doxxed me and came after me in waves. I left the company due to depression. Eventually, her mob of rabid followers drove me off the edge of a roof. Now I've been given a second chance. When the intern points to the promo page that's about to go live and asks me: "Erin, does my Black Friday campaign look good to you?" "It doesn't just look good. This is the textbook definition of a viral growth hack!" I turn around, grab the documents, and announce over the company-wide PA system. "Cassie has personally guaranteed this campaign with her own and her boyfriend's credit history, signing a full liability agreement to cover any losses. Let's give her a hand, everyone!"

I am born lucky. One can say I'm a money magnet. I'd even win a car when buying a can of soda. The company relies on the numbers I pick to win bids. We go from the brink of bankruptcy to the third-largest company in the city. Then, during a business trip, I casually buy a lottery ticket and win 3,000 dollars. The newly hired finance manager, Owen Pearson, immediately demands that I turn over the entire prize. When I explain that I bought the ticket with my own money, he flies into a rage. "Any profit generated during working hours belongs to the company! Who do you think you are? How dare you refuse to follow company policy? If you win three million dollars after work, that's your business. But if you win three dollars during work hours, that's company property!" I can't be bothered to argue with him, so I call the CEO's fiancée, Macy Sanford. To my surprise, she agrees with him. "He has a point. If the company hadn't paid for your business trip, you wouldn't have had the opportunity to win the lottery in the first place." Owen is even more smug as he orders, "Just hand over the money. The 3,000 dollars will be deducted from your paycheck, and we'll deduct another 30 thousand dollars as a penalty for embezzling company funds. That should teach you a lesson." I tighten my grip on the lottery ticket and say nothing more. One week later, the company participates in the biggest bidding project of the year. Everyone turns to look at me, expecting me to provide the winning numbers. I simply smile and say, "Sorry. I've already resigned. I have no obligation to fill out the bid proposal anymore."

After climbing my way up from nothing to become the richest man in the city, I got used to keeping a low profile. Until one day, I received a call from my granddaughter’s kindergarten. They said she had hit another child in class and told me to come in to settle the matter. But when I arrived, I found my granddaughter covered in injuries. The boy who claimed she had hit him didn’t have a scratch on him. Instead, he spat at me with a smug look on his face. “You old geezer. Your whole outfit isn’t even worth as much as one pair of my sneakers. Take your broke little granddaughter and get out!” I stared at the homeroom teacher in disbelief. She only curled her lip. “Kids say silly things. Besides, what Harvey Harris said isn’t exactly wrong. “His grandfather is the richest man in the city. Our kindergarten is an elite school, after all. Ordinary families like yours should stop coming here just to embarrass yourselves. You’d be better off transferring her somewhere else.” When I heard the boy’s name, I almost laughed. I pulled out my phone and called John Harris, my driver of ten years. “John, stop waiting by the car. Come to the office. “Why? Because the grandson you begged me to help get into this kindergarten just beat up my granddaughter.”

After finding out that the city is flourishing with countless opportunities, Florence Chastain drinks far too much out of elation. She begins stumbling toward the home of Gerard Vertes, a widower, in her drunken haze. Even though I have a crush on her, I choose to ignore her. In my previous life, I was worried that Florence might submit to her carnal urges due to intoxication, which might lead to her losing the golden opportunity of moving to the city. So, I rushed over to stop her. But Florence was quick to yank the hem of my shirt while begging me to satisfy her urges. After the wild night, she got pregnant with my child. In order to preserve Florence's reputation, her parents forced her to marry me. After our marriage, Florence was cold and aloof toward me and our child. She'd beat us up from time to time, too. "If not for your busybody tendencies back then, I wouldn't have married a country bumpkin like you! With talents like mine, I'd definitely have made it big in the city!" The daily torment had me physically and mentally strained. In order to make life easier for this family, I borrowed money from various sources just to rent a general store. That way, we'd have steady income. But Florence had the audacity to lock me up at home when our son was down with a high fever. I begged her to save our son, only to get beaten up by her ruthlessly instead. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the night Florence is making her way drunkenly toward Gerard's house.

On the seventh day after my dad's passing, I head over to the funeral home to wrap up the aftermath of the funeral as well as pack up my dad's personal effects. That's when an employee stops me and demands that I cough up an additional 100 thousand dollars for the storage and preservation of my dad's corpse. I'm stunned, to say the least. Dad has already gotten cremated and buried a long time ago. His ashes are already deposited inside the graveyard, as we speak. So, how is his body getting stored and preserved throughout the week? I use facts and logic to argue with the employee. But he has the gall to threaten me with an impatient scowl on his face. "Stop yapping already! The system shows that your father's body is still inside the cold storage! It's been seven days, so you must pay 100 thousand dollars, no matter what! If you refuse to settle the payment, you can forget about taking your father's personal effects with you! "When the time comes, you have to cough up the additional charges as well! If not, I shall see you at court!" As I stare at the hostile employee, I can feel rage simmering in my blood. Still, I call every family member and relative I have to borrow 100 thousand dollars from them just so I can make the payment. With the receipt in hand, I walk into the police station right away. "Officer, my dad was cremated and buried seven days ago. But the funeral home decided to charge me 100 thousand dollars' worth of storage and preservation fees for no reason! I suspect that they didn't send my father off the proper way!" When the police show up at the funeral home, the same employee who threatened me looks alarmed. He quickly gets his manager, Mr. Lawson, to deal with the situation. Impatience is etched all over Mr. Lawson's face as he snaps at me, "Your father has already gone through the cremation process seven days ago. The procedure and all the receipts are intact. Don't you dare kick up a fuss irrationally now!" I let out a cold chuckle in return before showing Mr. Lawson the receipt. "I'm being irrational, you say? I've just paid for the storage fees of my father's corpse, and here's the receipt to prove the validity of the transaction! You must return my father to me today!" I thought the funeral home insisted on charging me earlier. Now, they'd better fulfill their side of the bargain by returning my dad's corpse to me without a single hair out of place!