Please Tell Mom This Is Not Her Fault Mga Nobela at Kwento

She drew me close “I'm so proud of you Kin. And I'm sorry about all this transporting in your life right now. It was all because of me” I didn't want to think about how she may think she's the cause of what is happening in my life. Call me cliche or not, I think this is designed somehow to occur whether we tried to stop or not. It was still going to happen. When I pulled away from her she had a streak of a tear sliding down her face which I wiped away with my thumb “It's not your fault Mom you don't have to worry about it. Like you said this is my perfect place and I won't want to trade it for any other”

she whispers, though I can tell she’s still holding back tears. The timing couldn’t be worse. With my forced shifting training just beginning and danger lurking in every corner here, I can’t even go out to look for him. But I wish I could do something to help them. Then I hear a familiar, distant voice from her end of the call. “Is that Dad?” I ask. Mom exhales. “Yes… he’s not doing great.” “Why?” She hesitates. “He thinks it’s his fault.” I frown. “What? Why?”

"Mom, it's actually my fault. Summer had nothing to do with it." It would be unfair to put all the blame on Summer alone.

“There’s no need to blame yourself for anything.” Mom gently cups my face, her eyes scanning me as if searching for hidden wounds—ones even I can’t see. “Your dad is right. You’re the best daughter anyone could ask for. We may not know who’s behind this or what they really want, but one thing I know for certain—it’s not because of anything you’ve done. You know why? Because you’re the kindest, sweetest, most selfless girl anyone will ever meet.” I try to smile at Mom’s words, but it feels weak, forced. It’s not that I don’t believe her—it’s just hard to accept that none of this is my fault when it sure as hell feels like it is.

"My love, you will get the chance to tell him." "How mom?," I mutter into the crook of her neck. "He is badly injured. Mum, I am scared that he will not make it. And it is all my fault." I shut my eyes, allowing more of my tears to flow down my cheeks. "It is all my fault." "Shhhhh, my love. It is not your fault. None of what happened is your fault." She lifts my head from her shoulder, cupping my face in her hands, her loving eyes staring back at me with so much affection.

“It’s all my fault.” My mother crouched beside me, her hand resting gently on my shoulder. “What are you talking about? It’s not your fault. That crazy woman did this to him, not you.” I shook my head, my hair falling into my face. “If I hadn’t gone out alone, or if I’d paid attention to where I was going, we wouldn’t be in this situation.” “No, don’t say that,” she insisted firmly. “She kidnapped you and poisoned you. She’s the one who hurt Sean, not you. This is her fault. Do you hear me? You’re not responsible for this.”

“I loved him with everything I had. I stood by him, I believed in him and I never stopped believing in him.” The pain inside my chest became unbearable. “It’s not my fault that I’m barren…” I whispered. Mom stroked my hair. “You are not barren!!!” “It’s not my fault…” I repeated louder. “It’s not my fault…” My voice broke completely. “I didn’t choose to be barren.” The words echoed through the room. “I didn’t choose it.” “I tried, I tried everything, I gave him everything but It’s not my fault.” Mom cried with me as she held me tighter. “No, darling. It isn’t your fault and it never was.”

Suddenly, a pair of large hands appeared and stopped me from falling just in time. This was similar to what happened during my first military training. However, my state of mind was very different. Back then, I felt relieved and joyful, but now there was only sadness and grief. "Eve, I didn't mean to stand you up that day. It was…" Calvin started explaining with a frown on his face. I immediately cut him off. "That's enough. I don't want to hear it. Things have gotten to this point already. You don't need to explain. Let's just remain strangers from now on."

She clung to my clothes and wept, "Mary, I'm sorry! It's all my fault! I killed you!" Her sobs echoed in my ears, breaking my heart over and over again. I rushed toward her, wanting to wrap my arms around her and tell her it wasn't true, that I didn't blame her. "Mom, it's not your fault. I should've known Dad didn't love me. It was my stubbornness that cost me my life. It was my fault, not yours. Please don't cry, Mom. Please." But my words never reached her. Just like when I was alive, I couldn't comfort her. I couldn't now either.