Novel & Cerita I Mostly Blame Myself Dora

“I was told to stay indoors with her because she was having her usual morning sickness and-” “Wait, what?” I cut in. “Morning sickness?” Dora burst into tears as she nodded. "My mother was pregnant when she died, and it’s all my fault. If I had stayed indoors, that man wouldn’t have been able to kill her and her baby.” Dora bent over, resting her elbows on her thighs as she rested her head in her hands. She went silent for a moment, and I was about to give her some space when I heard her sniffle and sigh. Immediately, I knelt before her and gently removed her hands from her hair. When she raised her head, I saw her bottom lip tremble as tears streamed out of her eyes. So I pulled her into my

I should've obeyed Mom and not made her angry. Crying echoed from the laundry room, so loud it felt like it shook the floor. In my room, a little figure was crying in silence. Maple curled up into a ball, punching her mouth with her little fists. "You fool! What does this have to do with you?" I screamed. "You can't even speak or write. Why are you punching yourself?" It hurt so much watching Maple. I tried to pull her hand away, but I couldn't touch her at all. "At the end of the day, it's because I took your life. I ruined your life. Now, I guess I've paid it back."

Jared knelt in front of me with concern and whispered, “These families forgave you because they thought it was an accident, but with the new evidence and stories surfacing online, they’re angry and came here to ask for an explanation. “They couldn’t find you, so they found Jenny instead. I was worried something would happen to Jenny, so I…” My vision blurred, and I smiled at him. “So you want me to take the blame for Jenny again?” “Enough! How dare you! You were the one who killed those kids! What does that have to do with Jenny?!” My father hit my back with the hiking pole. My mother cradled Jenny against her chest and glared at me. “These are the consequences of your own actions. I won’t l

"Nothing justifies it. We did not have the right to run away from our responsibilities." "He handled the mess well. You do not need to blame yourself for what happened," Arabella assured. "That's the problem, Arabella. It hasn't passed." Dorothy took a deep breath. Talking about their problems was invigorating, but also painful. It was like cutting off a rotten part of her own body to apply a bandage right after. She felt, deep in her heart, that she could trust Arabella to have an honest conversation, so she did. "You raised a very strong man, Dora. Believe me, he will work it out"

"He's in a very critical condition. I couldn't even bear to look at him." She let me stay in her embrace until I was strong enough to pull away. "I know just how you feel," she lifted her hands and cupped my chin. "And I'm not going to say that you shouldn't blame yourself because you were a contributor to this and deserve to be punished." I winced at the harsh reality. I deserved to die. Dora continued. "But what I need you to understand is that you are also the reason why we have the staff, and why that swine, Dimitri is dead. We didn't entirely lose."

“It’s none of my business. Your mother was already in poor health and should’ve died long ago. It’s good that she died. Think of it as payment for my mother’s life. I didn’t do anything wrong.” She kept denying everything and used her mother’s death as an excuse. I lowered my head and took out her mother’s medical record from the drawer. My mother left it before she died. My tone turned cold. “Jaime, you knew long ago that your mother’s surgery had a very low chance of success. You kept lying to yourself. Doctors aren’t all‑powerful. They can’t bring the dead back to life. You spent ten years torturing my mother and me, blaming everything on us. Now my mother is dead, and I won’t live much l

I tell him, “Dora showed you what you wanted to see. And by all accounts she is very good at that. You loved her. And it must be incredibly difficult to reconcile that with the knowledge of what she’s done. You have suffered more than enough. More than you deserve. She is who she is. But you are not like her. That’s why she had to work so hard to hide her true self from you. And once you found out, you banished her. That cannot have been easy for you to do, but you did it anyway. Forgive yourself. I know that I do.” “Thank you, Levi,” my grandfather tells me softly, wiping a stray tear from his eye, “That means more to me than you will ever know.” I want to say more, but I hear a loud crash

Ten years after I'm abducted, I'm finally rescued and brought home. From that day on, Mom and Dad make me the center of their world. They even burn through their savings and move to another city for me. But those ten years leave me with severe depression. One day, I take a razor blade to my wrist. Dad grabs the blade with his bare hand. "If you die, what are your mom and I supposed to do?" All that attention soon starts to suffocate me. Eventually, I snap and smash up all the furniture in the house. Even then, Mom just pulls me into her arms and comforts me over and over. "It's okay, sweetheart. It's all over now." Then my younger adopted sister, Nancy Bonner, asks one simple question

The room spun around me. My eyes blurred with unshed tears as I touched my cheek, still burning from the slap. “You apologize over every silly mistake, Dorothy!” she yelled. “Do you know what I had to do to clean up your stupid mistake?” I cowered in pain, physically and emotionally. I tried standing, but I couldn’t. “Stand up when I’m talking to you.” Her voice cracked slightly. “Stop making me hurt you.” I forced myself back onto my feet, rubbing my cheek and swallowing back the tears threatening to fall.

“Didn’t think we’d get trapped in a storm.” She doesn’t look at me. Her gaze stays fixed on the dark concrete floor, lashes wet, shoulders tight. “No one is to be blamed,” she murmurs. Barely louder than the rain pattering on the roof. The words hit harder than they should. I nod once. She’s right anyway. Blame doesn’t change outcomes. It never has. I pull my shirt up and drape it over my shoulder, giving myself something to do with my hands. Standing still around her feels dangerous like if I don’t keep moving, if I don't keep myself occupied, I might forget all the reasons I should care about.