The Guilt Trip Novels & Stories

Guilt washed over me like a tidal wave, threatening to consume my very soul. I lay in bed,staring up at the ceiling, my mind racing with thoughts and emotions as the sheets tangled around me, as waves of guilt washed over me. How could I have done such a thing? How could I have been responsible for such a horrific act? Could this the reason why I couldn't allow Xavier to get too close to me or allow myself fully fall for him? The weight of my actions pressed heavily on my conscience, and I knew I had to find a way to make amends.The image of her lifeless body and the blood-stained ground refused to leave my mind, tormenting me with every beat of my heart.

I shouldn’t want this. I shouldn’t even think about it. But the more I try to fight it, the more it consumes me. It’s suffocating. And yet I do. I grip the arms of the chair so tightly my knuckles burn white, but it doesn’t stop the storm in my chest. The guilt tears at me like claws, scraping at my skin, telling me to turn away. Telling me to stop it before I lose myself completely. But deep down… something inside me knows it’s already too late.

Jonathan I had not slept in three days. Maybe four. I had lost count. The thing about guilt is that it doesn’t punch you in the face. It seeps into you, quietly, like a drug, and before you know it, you are trembling through meetings, forgetting your parking space, drinking espresso until your hands twitch, staring at your girlfriend’s name on your phone screen wondering if today is the day she finds out everything.

“Mom guilt? It sounds like the only thing you don’t feel guilty about is turning me down.” “That’s right. Not an ounce of guilt about that.” I said, turning my head and facing Cas with a big smile. He just rolled his eyes at me, and I turned back. “Mom guilt is when you feel guilty for not being there enough, and when you are there, you feel guilty for not doing enough with them. For working too much, not buying enough toys, or too many toys. For saying no or not being strict enough. It’s doubting yourself and feeling like a failure because you want to be the best mom there is.”

His actions made me feel a tiny-weeny bit of guilt but I was having too much fun to actually take that guilt into concern. "Honestly, I'm a little tired but I was very excited for today. Sadly, you don't even remember..." I trailed off acting dramatically sad as I guilt tripped Daniel. "What is today, flower?" Daniel asked as he looked a little ashamed. "We were bringing in Danielle today." I said which served as the final blow, making Daniel's eyes shake a little. "I am such a bad father. I-" I placed my finger on his lips before he could continue bad mouthing himself. The fun was now over. I didn't want him blaming himself.

"You really scared me. I had to walk right out of a multi-million dollar closing meeting for this. My partners are furious, you know." There it was. The subtle guilt-trip. In the past, I would have immediately apologized, feeling incredibly guilty for disrupting his career, throwing my arms around him to make up for it. But now, I saw the cold calculation behind his eyes. He wanted me to feel indebted to him. He wanted me to know exactly how much he had "sacrificed" to be at my bedside. "I didn't ask you to come," I said, my voice barely above a whisper, keeping my eyes locked on his.

“Your initiation is an important day and this is about more than loyalty to the cause, to the Blacktop. This is about loyalty to our family, to Alexei, a lot of eyes are on us now, we can't afford any more drama.” “Will you turn this into a guilt trip so I take the oath?” “Guilt is an irrelevant notion to me, you know that.” Tristan let out a choked laugh. “Yeah, I got that. For you and Alexei both, and for Sergei whenever it suits him best.” “Do you feel guilty for killing those Outfit soldier, we brought back from Chicago months ago?” Tristan sank back down on the bed and fiddled with his headphones, giving a small shrug. “Kinda.”

​The heavy weight of guilt never left my side for a single day. ​I felt guilty for the cruel way I had treated him in that garden. I felt guilty for the cold, dirty lies I had forced out of my mouth. I felt guilty for shattering the gentlest soul I had ever known. I carried that guilt everywhere I went like a heavy iron chain wrapped around my chest. I carried it through my biggest career wins, my private failures, my best moments, and my lowest points. It was a constant, stinging reminder of the absolute worst thing I had ever done.

He questions in a hoarse voice, the vulnerability in his tone suggesting he's not just talking about Lily, but perhaps himself. Matthias's grip tightens on my arm. “You can't guilt-trip her into staying.” “What does guilt-trip mean?” Isabella interjects, her curious voice breaking the tension in the room. “It means trying to make someone feel guilty to manipulate their decision,” Matthias explains, but Damon remains unfazed. “I'm not manipulating anyone. I'm stating a simple truth. Her choice could have consequences, not just for her but for others too. Don't you believe so, Alana?” He poses a question, his blind eyes fixed on me.

He would always ask me if I wanted that to happen to him and that filled me with guilt. So I stayed. Living in my own bubble painting a happy picture until I just couldn't anymore. I started to fantasize about him going to work and never returning, because he ran away with a mistress. I fantasized about him winning the lottery and leaving us for one of his mistresses. It was ironic because he never took the lotto, he rather spend the money on alcohol. Deep down inside I knew I was trapped with him. I pictured him to be some demon now, waiting for him to be called to hell but even that was just a fantasy.