Blaming Myself Novels & Stories

When I was five, my elder sister, Mabel, lost the use of both legs saving me in a car accident. From that day on, there was one thing my parents said to me more than anything else. “You ruined Mabel’s life.” When I got into a top university, Mabel locked herself in her room and cried all night. My mother, eyes red from crying, tore my acceptance letter to pieces. “Wait until Mabel can walk again. Then you can go to college.” So I spent sixteen hours a day delivering food, saving every penny for Mabel’s rehabilitation. When my stomach pain became so bad I could barely stand, my parents accused me of being jealous of Mabel’s nutritional supplements and faking it for attention. I secret

Janiya slowly walks over to the night table and picks up the picture of Zane and his grandparents. Tears automatically began to roll down her cheeks. She crumbles to the floor, feeling weak and in pain, as she sits in the semi-dark room. Why do I want to blame myself when things occur? Why do I want to share some part of the blame when things sometimes go wrong? Why do I feel that maybe if I had stayed hidden away longer, he would have never been able to find me, and things would be okay? Why do I feel that if I had gone back home to the States, none of this would have happened?

You cry and cry until you're numb, until your eyes don't have anything to give. Then comes the blaming, you find something to blame because it makes you feel better, you blame the person for dying, you blame the person responsible or the sickness responsible. You blame the universe and everyone. What hurts the most is self-blame. You blame yourself for not looking carefully, for not defending, and for not being there or being strong enough. Self Blame is a bitch. So yeah, I understand where Jackson is coming from. “Ashanti?" My eyes snap up to his, he's waiting for my answer. His eyes are full of concern. Fuck that.

If they take a DNA sample, then they would know immediately who the culprit is. “Stop blaming yourself.” He said without even looking at me. He looked straight ahead as he walked with his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. I chew on my lower lip. Blame myself? Am I? It is what I’ve been doing ever since Shedim told me what had happened. “What makes you think I am blaming myself?” I give a humourless laugh but I felt dark inside, hopeless. He nodded slowly. “That’s how you are but you shouldn’t. There was nothing you could have done.”

“Don’t blame Cheryl. Don’t go down that path.” “I’m not blaming her,” I said hoarsely. “I’m blaming myself. Again. And again. And again. I keep messing things up. I hate myself for it. But she should’ve told me. She should have given me a chance to be there. Things didn’t have to turn out this way.”

Everything that happened to them flashed across her mind, making her feel sad, aggrieved, and suffocated. “Why did you all do something like that? You make me unable to hate you all or even blame you for it. You make me… I can’t scold you. All I can do is blame myself instead…” She thumped her chest. “Do you know how much I blame myself? I blame myself for being useless for believing in you, for falling for you again, and for myself… I blame myself for the death of so many people. I don’t know how to explain to Sam what happened…”

"But I only found out through some pups gossiping about it." I scoff lightly. "Rumors spread faster than anything else." "What did you say?" she asks, tilting her head. "Nothing," I reply, shaking my head. "And you don’t need to apologize. This isn’t your fault." She pats my back reassuringly, but I still feel the weight of today pressing down on me. "Honestly, I don’t even blame anyone," I mutter. "It’s my fault for not being strong enough, for not being like everyone else. Sometimes, I feel like I’m nothing but a disgrace—to myself, to our family… especially to Dad."

Dad and I echo her, gratitude thick in our voices. But even as relief washes through me, a shard of ice lodges in my heart. I remember that day with brutal clarity, remember the role I played in our destruction. "I'm sorry," I whisper, my head dropping under the weight of my shame. "It's not your fault, honey." Mom tips my chin up, forcing me to meet her eyes. "But it is." Self-loathing curdles in my gut as I recall my choices, my blindness. "No, it's not," Caleb says fiercely. "The only one to blame is that bastard, not you."

" He groaned. "You do know it wasn't your fault right? I hope you know that," she told him. He smiled gently as he looked at her. He could tell she was trying her best to be there for him. "Yes now I know that, but for a while back then I blamed myself…. I blamed myself for everything, I just could not fathom why people continued to leave me so I had to blame someone and well…. It's easier to blame yourself, but now I know better," he said.

"How many times should I say, so you will stop blaming yourself?." I asked while gripping his shoulders tightly. "Never. It has always been my fault. I should have come home when mum asked. Then she would have been here." He continued blaming himself. "ADAM, STOP BLAMING YOURSELF," I shouted on his face. "I lost someone I love and I know how it feels. You would never know. So, shut the hell up." He shouted back.