It's not my fault

My mother fell to the ground her tears pooling on the Marble floor, I was frozen I wasn’t functioning, my brain could not digest what I was just told. The thing I feared the most had hit me harder, harder than the incident that had happened twelve years ago. Slowly reality seemed to hit me, I could feel the tears coming down non-stop, the gripping pain in my chest just seemed to worsen by the minute. The whispers of the Guest that were waiting in the large hall increased by every second, just like me, reality hit them hard. My family members were weeping hysterically, the children sat confused in their seats, The Adults were uneasy. The anxiety was creeping unto me, the negative thoughts that occurred to me all those years ago seemed to eat up my heart. This was supposed to be the happiest day of their life, yet once again my reckless actions had caused another accident. Something that was meant as an act of goodwill had bought a curse upon my Father. My Mother gripped the Collar of my Dress, her tears stained my shirt her sobs filled the hall, echoing every now and then. The choking noises that came from me seemed to anger her more.

“ Wasn’t it enough? You killed your Mother but wasn’t that enough for you, do you want to kill my Husband too? “

Her Words stabbed me, she was aware that it was a mistake, a mistake that no one was at fault for, not me above all not my father. These were the moments that I was reminded that she was not my real mother and that my biological mother had died in an unfortunate accident. I wanted to scream, shout, let out my frustration, I wanted to tell her that I did not want this. I did not ask my mother to give birth to a girl who was a repellent to good Luck in life. I would have rather have died in my mother's womb than cause nothing but shame and unluck to this family.

The drive to the hospital was only filled with sobs from my mother, who was occasionally shooting me glances filled with despair. Her hair that was once very neat was flying into different directions, her old yet beautiful was torn in different ways. Her once Brilliant and bright looking eyes were duller than the darkest material on earth, her bold and daring structure, looked like a collapsing building on the verge of a massive explosion. My emotions were telling to smooth my mother's worry, but all of my brain cells were telling me to avoid every situation that might just add to the knives that were thrown at me before. I was hurt, hurt by her blaming this on me, hurt by her thinking I told him to pass through the highway hoping for something to happen to him. It was supposed to be an act of Goodwill. I was sure that I should have kept my mouth shut and not address the words she had said before, but the longer I kept my lips sealed the deeper the knives seemed to push into my Chest.

My cracked voice let out a slight cry for my Mother who sat with blood-shot eyes in front beside me.

“Mother…. Why did you say that to me?”

Her Jaw clenched once I called her Mother.

“Do you really think I haven’t noticed that all the love you have been showing me is fake?”

My Eyebrows creased in confusion.

“What are you talking about?”

My words annoyed her more.

“The way you have been staring at me since yesterday as if I was the one who killed your mother.”

She was right I was looking at her weirdly but not out of the reason she was thinking about. Not because I hated her it was because I was trying to protect her from all the curses that come along with sharing the same name as me. She was the first person ever to not run away in my time of need instead like my mother she used to hug me and allow me to cry in peace. I was nervous that something might happen to her because she knows me, I was scared that once again I was going to lose someone who was like a mother to me. She was the first person I ever called Mother; I didn’t want to lose her to a curse that no one believes in. Not knowing that the person in danger would be my Father and not me. The only way for them to live is for me to die, but being too attached to living has landed my mother in her grave while my father stands with one foot in his own Grave. My Death would mean freedom to everybody in association with me. It would mean freedom to me, knowing that I won’t be existing will mean peace and happiness for me. Before I could control myself the words flew out of my mouth.

“Don’t worry I will make sure you never see me again just let me save my Father first before I cut myself from this Family. “

She flinched back from my words as if I just beat her up, her eyes softened.

“Amy-“ I cut her off while raising my hand, she silenced down and my head turned towards the window. I have always had thoughts of taking my life in order to let my Family live without having to worry about every step they take. Back then I was worrying about other people, but now I worry about myself, I fear myself the most. I fear what my curse will bring on me.

The remaining time we were in the car was spent in silence, my thoughts always drifting back to the words I had said earlier. My Mother kept throwing glances at me after the words I uttered at the beginning of the ride.

The doctors filled me in telling me that my father was safe and sound. The only thing I wanted to hear came out of the doctor's mouth. Before anyone could still mention anything I ran to my Fathers room, hugging him the last time before taking the stairs to the rooftop.

I stood at the top of the railing looking down. The wind was blowing my hair in every direction. Not a single soul was moving around, it was only me and the World and nothing in between. By the time I wanted to jump, I was held. By the time I was about to discover what comes after death, there was something holding me back. No someone was holding me back. My mother was holding me back, not the person who was supposed to become my Mother, no, but my real mother looking as beautiful as ever stood there and shook her head. By then it was too late because I had decided to live. Also if it took all of my energy I was going to live in honor of my Mother.