Spongebob Box Imagination Novels & Stories

When I was ten years old, I sold my mother to human traffickers. My father calls me an ungrateful monster, a devil. He sues me 99 times, but each time, I am found not guilty because I am under 14. In the end, on his way to bring my mother home, he is beaten to death by the men in that village. 20 years later, my younger sister finally brings our mother—now unable to walk and mentally unstable—out of the village. She starts a livestream and breaks down in tears. "I beg the internet to put my devil of a sister on trial. Don’t let her get away with this! She destroyed my family. I will make sure she loses everything!" But only I know… My mother deserves it.

I had just been confirmed as a match and was preparing to donate a kidney to my husband's adoptive sister. That night, she left her iPad in the living room. The screen was still on, showing her chat with the doctor: [Doctor, please don't tell my sister-in-law. If she has a kidney removed, her hidden heart condition will flare up, and she won't live longer than three months.] The next day, I canceled the donation without a second thought. My husband flew into a rage. He called me cold-blooded and forced me to sign a divorce agreement that left me with nothing. The next day, I stood outside the hospital room and heard my sister-in-law laughing smugly. "She's so stupid. I faked one chat screenshot, and she actually believed she was sick. Now her penthouse is mine, and we can finally be together openly." My husband kissed her. "Good girl. Later, I'll find you a good kidney on the black market." Outside the door, I sneered. Of course, I knew the chat log was fake. I had come back from the future, after all. In two weeks, the zombie outbreak would begin. Those two so-called siblings who were actually lovers would not only steal my medicine, they would push me out to feed me to the zombies. This time, with only four days left before zombie hordes overran the city, I wanted to see how long a sick woman without a new kidney and a scumbag without supplies could last in that penthouse.

On the first day that my parents' biological daughter, Lilith Ashbourne, comes home, everyone praises her refined temperament. They say even her body exudes a pleasant fragrance. I was born with the ability to see both the living and the dead. So, only I know that it's actually the stench of a corpse at its worst. In my previous life, I tried my best to persuade my parents and my childhood friends not to bring her home. However, they were convinced that I was jealous. They said that I was petty and intolerant. Left with no other choice, I kept warning them and trying my best to drive her away again and again. After the last time I chased Lilith out, she ran out crying. She accidentally fell into the water and couldn't be found again. They blamed everything on me and forced my head into a toilet, drowning me alive. When I open my eyes again, I choose to stay silent. After all, one can't save people who are determined to die.

The day I was about to quit the game, countless floating comments suddenly appeared before my eyes. [Finally! The villainess is quitting!] [Now Janet Cole doesn’t have to worry about getting exposed for using her account to flirt online.] [The heroine is so smart–she always uses voice chat in-game. The villainess has no idea.] [Janet is living the dream–using her max-level account to juggle five top-tier players at once!] [At 2 PM today, she’s meeting her 'No.1 catch'–the cold, untouchable campus heartthrob Cedric Barnes!] [Assassin god tomorrow, rich scion the day after… her time management is insane!] The Janet they were talking about… was the fake heiress who had taken my place in my own family. She had been impersonating me–using my account to flirt with five elite players at once? Then more comments appeared… [Why hasn’t the villainess left yet? The male lead is already waiting.] [This is the first sweet date between the leads–can’t wait!] I turned to look at Janet, touching up her makeup in front of the mirror–and suddenly, it all clicked. The 'villainess' they were talking about… was me. So the real heiress–me–was nothing more than a disposable side character, a stepping stone for the fake one? A faint smile curled on my lips. If she could impersonate me online and play the field, then me showing up in person and stealing everything... wouldn't be too much, right?

My friend, George, and I are both knocked unconscious by a basketball. When I wake up, I suddenly hear my late mother's voice. "Tam, don’t let George fool you again. He loves pretending to have amnesia just to toy with you and please Ariana Rogers." I freeze and look at George, who has just woken up. I hear him ask, "Who are you?" My mom goes on, "In your past life, he ruined you. You gave him a good life and everything you have, but he killed you just to be with Ariana. "Listen, your dad is about to ask you to choose a boy to be your brother. Don't pick George. Choose the boy from the Muller family. Even though he never smiles or gives you the time of day. He quietly carries your bottle for you during training every time." Before I can process it, my dad walks toward me and holds out several photos of boys. He says, "Tam, they are all children of soldiers who sacrificed for our country. I plan to adopt one to be your brother. You choose. From now on, we will be a family." This time, I do not hesitate. I point straight at Clyde Muller. "I'll listen to Mom and choose him."

It was the climactic moment of my game, but the enemy's flash bang blinded me. After I reopened my eyes, I found myself in the world of the post-apocalyptic underdog comeback story I'd ranted about to my friend the day before. No, I wasn't the protagonist with a cheat for a system. Instead, I was the cannon fodder who suffered the worst fate. He also had my name. I found myself locked outside the armored vehicle while a swarm of high-level zombies had surrounded me. 'Blast,' I thought. 'All this just because I flamed them? And I just made a pentakill after my 8-win streak!' I told myself to calm down and let my mind do its work, but then the laughter of this body's wife echoed from the walkie-talkie. "Stop covering for him, gunners! We're livestreaming to the whole camp. My husband's going to rip these Tier Six zombies to shreds!" Then, the woman's useless male best friend buzzed with excitement. "I'll have a permanent spot in the inner city if he distracts the horde and they rip him apart in the process, babe!" If this went the way of the original story, I'd beg for help only to get no answer and be ripped apart by the zombies. Fortunately, I wasn't the same coward this guy used to be. The woman kept egging me on. I sneered. I didn't spend years playing competitive games for nothing. And so, I grabbed a high-frequency concussion grenade that could get the attention of every single zombie in a 3-mile radius, smashed the ventilation valve of the armored vehicle, and hurled the grenade inside.

After I get hospitalized from a stroke, I tell my son, Raymond Thornton, to come to the hospital and pay for my hospital bills. But my daughter-in-law, Vivian Mills, mumbles in displeasure, "It's just a stroke, isn't it? Why is she being so whiny? Also, she's called you so many times! Is she asking you for help or ordering you to do her bidding?" I pretend to not hear Vivian's words. After that, I waited the whole night for Raymond. The thing is, he never shows up despite the fact that he has agreed to come to the hospital. The next day, he finally calls me on the phone. "Mom, if I'm not mistaken, there should be some money left in your medical insurance, right? Why don't you use that money to pay the bills for the time being? I'll make sure to care for you more in the future!" While Raymond is still making empty promises over the phone, I hear another voice appear in my mind. "Ding! An empty promise has been detected! Fair Balance System is now activated!" "Once I'm back, I'll buy the best medication for you!" "Calculation in progress. The amount deducted for the best medication available is 6599 dollars!" The next moment I know, I receive a text, stating that the money is now in my bank account.

My boyfriend’s childhood sweetheart had bound a transfer system to me, causing the cool air around me to automatically converge on her. From then on, her family no longer had to pay for air conditioning. They even made a fortune by selling the cool air at a low price, thanks to this supernatural arrangement. When I explained the situation to my boyfriend, he was lying in his childhood sweetheart’s arms while eating an ice pop. He looked at me as if I were an idiot. “Your family is so poor that you can’t even afford to run the AC. Instead of looking at yourself, you came up with such a ridiculous excuse.” Later, I installed three air conditioners at home, but it did not help at all. In the end, I literally baked to death in an air-conditioned room at 60 degrees Fahrenheit. By the time I was discovered, I had turned into a dried corpse. Even after my death, my boyfriend still tried to profit off my misfortune. He became an internet sensation as the “first person to discover a dried corpse in an air-conditioned room.” He went on to live the life of a rich influencer with his little sweetheart. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the very day his little sweetheart had bound the transfer system to me. Knowing the future ahead, I immediately booked a reservation at the nearest sauna to escape the heat!

It was a zombie apocalypse. My mercenary leader husband, Hans Luketon, refused to let me set sail to the safe zone just because he wanted to wait for his childhood sweetheart, Winnie Snowe, who insisted on reclaiming her bag that fell into the water. However, the zombies were getting closer to the port, and their roars were terrifying. The survivors on the ship were crying and wailing. I had no choice but to sneak up on him and knock him out. After reaching the safe zone, I was pleasantly surprised to find that I was pregnant. Hans became even more gentle with me. On the very day I gave birth, he took me to the basement and threw me to a horde of zombies. As I was being torn apart by countless zombies, I caught his sinister gaze. He said, "If it hadn’t been for you, Winnie could've made it back to the safe zone with us. She just wanted to retrieve her things, what's so bad about that? You took her life, now you'll pay with yours!" When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the moment he blocked the cockpit door. This time, I would not assist him in "defying fate."

Every time my husband's newly hired assistant underwent another cosmetic procedure, a new wrinkle appeared on my face. Leaning on her increasingly refined beauty, she rose effortlessly through high society, earning praise as an "ageless goddess." Meanwhile, I—the rightful lady of a wealthy household—aged so rapidly that in just three months, I looked like her mother. Clutching her cosmetic treatment bills in one hand and my medical report in the other, I confronted my husband. Instead, he shoved me to the ground, his eyes cold as ice. "Have you lost your mind?" he snapped. "You failed to take care of yourself, and now you're jealous of a subordinate who works harder and strives more than you?" Later, in order to secure a partnership with Sauldi Group, she agreed to their proposal for a "rejuvenation" experiment, undergoing a full-body stem cell anti-aging procedure. At home, my organs began to fail one after another. By the time anyone noticed, I was already dead. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the afternoon when she first flaunted her plans—boasting about getting her very first skin-boosting injection.