How It Ends Worst Movie Ever Dramas & Movies

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Annie never knew her mother's love. Carole despised her, reserving all her doting affection for Fiona, the daughter of a past romance. Carole believed her marriage to Ben was a drunken mistake, and Annie was simply the regrettable result. Unable to bear the abuse Annie suffered, Ben resolved to take Annie and leave Carole for good. Despite this, on her own birthday, Annie chose to give her mother one final chance.

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To defuse the bomb strapped to the hostage, I had no choice—I cut off all her clothes. My clueless new wife, Dana Poole, blasted it online. She cried as she faced me. "Why not at least leave her underwear on? You were saving her, I get it—but did you have to take everything? Doesn't a girl's dignity matter? With cameras everywhere, how is she supposed to live after this? You couldn't even cover her up?" The backlash exploded. The unit benched me to calm things down. So I stopped caring. I followed procedure, no improvising, no extra effort. Then one day, at the busiest mall in the city, Dana's mom got strapped into a brand-new linked bomb. This time, the whole unit panicked.

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When my appendix bursts, my parents, my brother, and even my fiancé are all too busy celebrating my sister's birthday. I'm outside the operating room, frantically calling every family member I can think of to sign the consent form, but every call is either ignored or hung up on. After hanging up on me, my fiancé, Joel Graham, texts back."Sophie, stop being dramatic. It's Yvette's 18th birthday today. Whatever it is can wait until after the party." I quietly set my phone down and sign the consent form myself. It's the ninety-ninth time they've chosen Yvette Norton, my sister, over me. This time, I choose not to care. I'll stop letting their favoritism hurt me. Instead, I'll do everything they ask of me without complaint. They'll all think I've finally learned to be obedient, and they'll never realize that I'm preparing to leave them for good.

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After I was caught in a dockside explosion, I was bound to a Survival Program. It gave me twenty-five years and four designated targets. If even one target’s Love Score or bond score reached 100%, I could wake up in my real world. But I failed all four. Because every target I tried to reach eventually turned toward Sophia Lane, the heroine of this world. They called my pain a performance. They called my tears manipulation. They said I was only pretending to break down so they would choose me over Sophia. But if they never loved me, why did they lose control when my mission failed and I chose to leave this world for good?

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Betrayed. Killed. Reborn as a worthless eight-year-old. The greatest Necromancer King doesn't stay down. Hidden behind a child's face, he contracts Death and a Fallen Angel—and makes every one of them pay. Until a voice laughs from the dark—"You didn't think it was over, did you?"

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In her past life, Zoe Hall lost everything—her engagement,her freedom, and her life—after her sister Helen Hall stole her place and forced her into a violent marriage with Will Jackman. Reborn, the paths reverse: Helen chooses Will, while Zoe marries Henry Gregg as originally planned. But fate twists—Helen suffers abuse, while Zoe quietly saves Henry from his doomed fate and restores the Gregg family. In the end, Helen falls into madness and dies, while Henry, remembering fragments of the past, finally understands the truth and chooses Zoe.

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I brought my three-month-old pup, Nico, to my mate's pack for the Moon Gathering. The Blackwood pack lived deep in the northern pines, hidden from human eyes. Margaret Bailey was the Luna of the Blackwood pack, mated to the aging Alpha who rarely left his den. Her word was law in the longhouse. While my pup was sleeping, my niece, Raven Blackwood, and her friends carried him to the second floor of the longhouse and threw him out the window. My baby died right in front of me. I lost my mind. I shifted and tried to carry him to the pack healer, but it was already too late. He was gone before we ever made it there. Because my niece was still a minor under pack law, she barely faced any consequences. The Council ordered her family to pay eight hundred thousand dollars in blood money, but my sister-in-law, Seraphine Stone, howled and screamed, accusing me of trying to destroy their bloodline. I cried until I felt like my heart had been clawed out. All I wanted was justice. But my mate, Damien Blackwood, and the Luna, Margaret Bailey, only snarled at me. "Raven is just a pup too! Are you really going to destroy her future just because your son died?" I never got my revenge. In the end, grief and hatred hollowed me out. That winter, I died of a broken heart. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the Moon Gathering. This time, I immediately called my birth pack and asked them to take my son away. But even then, my niece still threw a baby from the upstairs window.

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It was our wedding anniversary when my husband's high school sweetheart posted a sonogram picture on her social media, with her captioning a public thank-you to my husband: [Thank you to the man who's been there for me for ten years, and for giving me a son.] The room spun, and anger surged through me as I quickly commented: [So, you're proud of being a homewrecker?] Almost immediately, my husband called, his voice full of rage. "How can you think such disgusting things? All I did was help her with IVF, fulfilling her dream of becoming a single mom. "And by the way, Ruby only needed one try to get pregnant, while you’ve been through three rounds with nothing. Your body is useless!" Just three days ago, he told me he was going abroad for business—ignoring my calls and messages the entire time. I thought he was just busy. However, it turned out he was with her, attending her prenatal checkup. Half an hour later, Ruby posted again, showing off a table full of delicious food. [I got tired of French food, so Ash made me all my favorite dishes. He’s the best!] I stared at the pregnancy test in my hand, the joy I had felt earlier now completely gone. After eight years of love and six years of swallowing my pride just to keep the marriage alive, I’m finally ready to let go.