Sonic Depression Novels & Stories

On the eve of a surgery, I voluntarily resign from my position as lead surgeon. My colleagues sneer behind my back and mock me openly. "And this guy's supposed to have a PhD from abroad? Looks more like he bought a degree from some no-name university." "Can't even handle a challenge without running—what kind of doctor is that?" In my last life, I gave up competing in a general practitioner skills competition to take on this very surgery. But because the other lead surgeon violated protocol during the operation, it ended in a serious medical accident. My sister, the head of the department, pinned all the blame on me. Even my girlfriend stood firmly on their side, accusing me of incompetence. Overnight, I went from being a respected medical PhD to the disgrace of the hospital. I couldn't prove the mistake wasn't mine. I was fired and faced criminal charges. My parents, once so proud of me, pointed at me in rage. "We don't have a son who plays god with people's lives!" Crushed by shame and despair, I spiraled into deep depression and jumped from the hospital roof. But now, I open my eyes again. I'm back—back to the night before the surgery.

Willow Crest, an 18 year old Senior in High School was born with the gift of Premonitions that came in her dreams. As a Light Witch and a black sheep within her own town, Willow is constantly bullied by her peers, both Witches and regular students at her school. Even with her special skills, she is looked down on as the weakest in her Coven, some seeing her as an outcast as her mother was a Light Witch before her, but her father was a normal human being. Plagued with Depression and Anxiety, Willow was ready to end her torment until a fateful encounter with a tall, mysterious man with smoldering gold and red eyes convinces her that life was worth living. Dante Iscariot, a man that walked in the time of Christ. A participant in many wars. An observer to empires both rising and falling. Though civilizations aged, Dante didn't. No matter how many followers pledged their allegiance to him, no matter how many people he turned with his blood, none of them could fill the emptiness that was left inside of himself. Then one day, he met a young woman with short black hair and violet eyes when visiting a small town in Montana. He planned to turn her until he realized that they had a connection far stronger than he ever imagined. Book 1: Fated to the Werewolf King

To "fix" Leonard Rinehart's oh-so-tragic depression, Naomi Gaffron—yeah, the same girl who once swore she'd only ever marry me—secretly tied the knot with him. So I gave in. Played along with the family's little matchmaking stunt. Married Aurelia Spencer—Brieton City's golden girl who'd been obsessed with me since forever. For seven years, she clung to me like I was oxygen. Every night, curled up like she'd break if I moved. I thought that was happiness. Then one night, I caught her whispering to her best friend: "Leonard's already got international awards. When are you dumping Leone?" "Whatever—I'm stuck with someone I don't love anyway. Doesn't matter who I married. Someone's gotta keep an eye on Leone so he doesn't screw up everything Leonard built." I checked her study. Found a hidden folder—over 100,000 photos of Leonard. A hundred unsent love letters. Even I couldn't fake it anymore. Bought a silicone dummy. Laid out the plan. The fire would be step one. Dead or alive—we're done.

After getting fired from my company, I returned to the countryside, spending my days playing rummy with my grandmother, but my entire family went insane, searching for me everywhere. It was because my younger sister, the family's prodigy jewelry designer, couldn't come up with a single design after I left. In my previous life, at the National Jewelry Design Competition, she managed to produce designs identical to mine before I even finished mine. Everyone assumed I had copied her work. Even my own family testified in her favor. The company accused me of misconduct and plagiarism, claiming my actions had tarnished their reputation. I was fired on the spot and ordered to pay a huge fine. My family, seeing me as nothing but a burden, threw me out of the house. Crushed by the weight of family betrayal and public judgment, I fell into depression, only to be killed on the street by one of my sister's obsessive fans. As my consciousness faded, I couldn't understand why my sister managed to create the exact same design before I did. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day I just signed up for the National Jewelry Design Competition.

The day Dad’s hypnosis stopped working on Mom, she slit her wrists. I ran crying to find Dad. My brother just stood there laughing. "Sis is such a liar. That water's just red food coloring. She and Mom are putting on a show for you." Dad's face flipped from worried to furious. "How long are you going to keep this up?" "Vanessa's depression can't take any more stress. Are you trying to drive her to her grave?" "If you hadn't stolen her parents from her, if you hadn't drugged me and crawled into my bed pretending to be her, I never would have ended up with you." "Pull this act again and I'll throw you back to the slums!" My brother clapped his hands in delight. "Yes! I want Mom gone! I want Aunt Vanessa to be my new mommy!" Mom closed her eyes, all the life draining out of her body. I stood there, jaw clenched, watching Dad walk away with his arm around Vanessa Bennett. A cold, mechanical voice of my mother suddenly echoed in my mind: [Mission failed. Host will be terminated. Countdown: three days.] Dad wouldn’t even have the right to beg her on his knees anymore.

When I was six, I spilled hot water, slipped, and burned my face. My face was ruined. My parents learned their lesson and never let my younger sister do housework. To everyone they met, they praised her beauty, her charm. They turned to me with nothing but disdain. When I was ten, I had a high fever. They didn't think much of it and let it drag on until my brain was damaged, leaving me slow and dull. They learned their lesson again. From then on, if my sister so much as coughed, they would rush her to the hospital in the dead of night, showering her with care. I was like a failed experiment. Every mistake they made with me, they corrected for her. I was ugly, silent, dim-witted, unwanted. She was beautiful, sweet-talking, clever, adored by all. When I was diagnosed with depression, I gathered what little courage I had and told them. Mom lashed out, called me sick in the head, and accused me of being petty. If I was so capable, she said, I might as well die. It wasn't until my sister pushed me off a high-rise that they found out, by sheer accident, that she wasn't their child at all. I was their one and only biological child.

My girlfriend called me frantically out of the blue, saying her mother's water had broken. She begged me to take them to the hospital. But I lazily hung up the phone and turned away, buying myself an ice cream bar instead. In my previous life, her mother had also gone into labor late in life. I had risked everything to rush her to the hospital, running twelve red lights, pushing my car to the limit until the fuel gauge nearly burst. Yet, despite all that, her mother had lost the baby. Worse still, she turned around and accused me of killing the baby. My girlfriend had hated me for it, blaming me for her mother's inability to have children again. That very night, she and her shameless relatives took over my family's house, forcing my parents into such anger and despair that they ended up in the hospital. My company went bankrupt, and as if that weren't enough, I was beaten so severely that both my legs were broken. In the end, I fell into a deep depression and took my own life. But when I opened my eyes again, I found myself reborn. This time, I uncovered the secret her mother had been hiding.

Tiara Villaraza is the only daughter of two business tycoons in the country. Of all the luxuries in life, she could ask for nothing more, except for one thing-- love. The love that can wash away the neglect, violence and abuse she feels from her parents. At the young age of sixteen, she realized that she secretly loved her math teacher. Unexpectedly, the opportunity to be with her teacher appeared in front of her like a wish granted. They are arranged to be married! Because she was too innocent and too gullible back then, she agreed to marry Trystan Fardein Fortez in Paris, France. She was so happy until her young heart broke. Due to depression, she decided to end her life. She then had a car accident that left her in a coma for a year, and she lost all her memories. In the blink of an eye, everything is gone. She has no choice but to start anew. New beginning, new memories, and new life. Then, something suddenly happened. The man she had forgotten for three years reappeared in her life. This person had become her professor who wantonly claimed her as if she were his property. At first, she was thrilled because of his handsome face and gorgeous body but there came a time when that admiration disappeared. What will happen if the memories she forgot suddenly come back? Will a Trystan Fardein Fortez, her professor, tame her again?

When I arrived at my wedding in my bridal gown, I found an octagonal fighting ring set up in the center of the stage. My fiance, Derek Hale, was holding the hand of his "girl bro," Chloe Shaw. With a smile, he handed me a pair of boxing gloves and explained, "Vivian, this is a tradition from my hometown. The bride has to get into the ring and wrestle one of the groomsmen for good luck. I asked Chloe to go up. Just play along for a minute." Looking at Chloe, who was always acting frail and sickly, I did not think much of it and stepped straight into the ring. But the next second, she threw an extremely professional spinning kick and knocked me unconscious with a severe concussion on the spot. When I woke up, I was paralyzed in a hospital bed. Derek stood there holding Chloe's hand and said to me, "Our relatives and friends gave us so much wedding money. The wedding can't go on without a bride. Chloe is willing to take care of me in your place. You're so kind, Vivian. You won't mind, right?" Under the torture of humiliation and severe depression, I pushed my wheelchair off the rooftop of our wedding home. When I opened my eyes again, I was back one month before the wedding. I turned around and knocked on the door of a national-level kickboxing champion training base. "Coach, if I trained for a month, can I punch someone's head open?"

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.