All Chapters of The Unwanted Daughter: Chapter 1 - Chapter 9

When my mother was just days away from giving birth to me, my father cheated on her with her closest friend. I was born on the side of the road, a consequence of my father's infidelity sending my mother into a tailspin. For a woman who had indulged in privilege for most of her life, this was a disgrace, a stain she couldn't wipe away. My father, feeling invincible because their marriage had been an arranged one, was arrogant and reckless. But my mother had a fiery spirit; she stood her ground and divorced him. Determined to show everyone that she was fine on her own, she transformed into a relentless workaholic, pouring herself into her career. Not one to be outdone, my father devised a plan to take me away, believing it would hurt my mother. This was something I learned only later. Truthfully, my mother didn't care about my well-being; my very existence felt like a mistake to her, a symbol of original sin. She believed that if she hadn't gotten pregnant with me, m

I flung open the door to the accessible restroom, and a cloud of smoke hit me, reeking of cigarettes. I coughed, my anger flaring up again as I slapped Wendy across the face. Her eyes narrowed, filled with fury. "What the hell is wrong with you? Who do you think you are?" A smirk crept onto my lips as rage surged within me. My mother might have treated me poorly, but I wouldn't let anyone play her like a fool. I grabbed the mop, swinging it hard into Wendy's stomach. She yelped, her voice rising in panic. "Help! There's a crazy woman attacking me! You ugly woman, I'm telling the school!" With no cameras around, I let loose, grappling with the two girls. "What are you pretending for? I heard everything you said!" As water splashed onto Wendy's face, she inexplicably stopped struggling. Instead, she gripped my mop tightly and said, "Rachel Garner, if you've got an issue, then take it out on me!" Just then, my mother burst in, delivering a stinging slap to my face in front of th

He glanced at me, silently asking if I needed comfort. I awkwardly shook my head, but in the next moment, tears slipped down my cheeks, which I quickly wiped away.At the dinner table, I hadn't even swallowed a bite of my food when Wendy strolled down from the second floor, instantly capturing my mother's attention. Dressed in an expensive designer dress, she stood in stark contrast to my simple white shirt and jeans. Yet she still managed to win my mother's favor. Like a little bird, Wendy nestled into my mother's arms, sweetly calling her "Mom," despite having her own mother from the countryside. My mother, clearly delighted, served her food, even peeling shrimp for her—something she had considered a chore—as if it were second nature to her. My heart ached, and a metallic taste rose in my throat as I cleared it, only to be met with my mother's cold glare and malicious assumptions. She didn't care that Nelson was there; she leaned in and whispered, "Rachel, what are you pretendin

Poppy was the dog I had cared for a long time. My mother couldn't stand it, so I only dared to keep it in my room. But when Wendy moved into our house, she wasted no time asserting her dominance, using intimidation tactics right out of the gate. To prove her place in my mother's heart, she lured my little dog out of my room with food. In front of my mother, Poppy bit Wendy, who brushed it off while my mother ordered me to take care of it. As a result, Wendy barged into my room when I was asleep and killed Poppy. When I sobbed and went to my mother, she merely glanced at the lifeless dog and bluntly dismissed my grief. "It's just a dog… Why are you crying? It's not like you lost your mother!" Just like that, Wendy faced no consequences for her actions, growing bolder in her bullying. Meanwhile, I cradled Poppy's lifeless body, mourning for an entire night. Poppy wasn't just a stray dog to me; it was my family. Wendy was so cruel… I had known for a long time that she was no goo

"I'll do anything you ask... please don't do this..." After signing the papers that severed our mother-daughter relationship, I arranged for my posthumous services. I requested that my ashes be scattered directly into the sea, leaving my mother with a simple message. 'It was a fun ride, but I don't want to relive this or be your daughter again.' Since I had refused my mother's visits, she couldn't see me. All she could do was call me repeatedly. However, it didn't take long before I blocked her number. She kept switching phones, bombarding me with calls, until I finally confronted her hypocrisy. "Mom, do you think this will ease your conscience? You'll never be able to atone for what you've done! Spare me your crocodile tears!" There was a brief silence before the call ended. -As time passed, I found it increasingly difficult to eat. Yet, my mother still hired a top-tier medical team to treat me. But there was no cure, and she turned her hopes to supernatural forces.