Chapter 33 Avoiding The Tragedy

Chapter 33 Avoiding The Tragedy

April 3, 2012 (New Present)

The air hung heavy with mixed emotions as my parents chatted excitedly about the planned trip to the theme park. Their enthusiasm contrasted sharply with the weight of my thoughts, the weight of the past pressing down on me. It was time to take action, to rewrite history and prevent the tragedy that had plagued me for so long.

As my parents exchanged words, my mind raced, contemplating the ways to divert fate. The theme park, the catalyst of the accident, became the focus of my thoughts. Could I just cancel the trip? But I knew that the true cause of that accident was within me, my own carelessness that had led to my father's sacrifice. The blame was mine to bear.

The idea of feigning sickness took root in my mind. If I could manipulate my acting skills, perhaps I could convince them to stay home and avoid the theme park. But as I considered it, guilt washed over me. Was it right to avoid the theme park when the real problem was me?

My father's voice snapped me back to reality, his joyous words a stark contrast to my inner turmoil. "Oh, let's go to the kitchen, my little princess! I cooked breakfast, and after work, we'll go to the theme park!"

My head drooped, my words catching in my throat. "Dad… I don't want to go to that theme park."

Their expressions shifted to concern, their gazes locked onto me, and I knew that my decision had disrupted the plans they had made with love.

My father knelt before me, his voice soft with worry. "What's wrong, my princess? You were excited about going there. I remember how your eyes lit up when we talked about it."

My mother's empathetic voice joined his. "Honey, are you feeling alright?"

With a practiced rasp in my voice, I scratched my throat and began my act. "Honestly, I'm not feeling too well today. I think I just need to rest and my head is pounding."

I coughed weakly, playing my part. "Augh, augh."

My mother reached out to gauge my temperature. "Your temperature seems fine, but if you're not up for it, there will always be another chance."

Their genuine concern, their belief in my act, made guilt surge within me. I was manipulating their feelings to avoid a place I associated with tragedy.

"Yeah, it's unfortunate that we had planned this trip for your birthday, but your health comes first. We'll have plenty more opportunities. Hopefully, you'll feel better soon. After breakfast, I'll take you to the hospital for a check-up."

The mention of a hospital jolted me. "Hospital?"

My mother chimed in, confirming their worry. "Yes, we need to get you checked regularly, Arian. And with that headache, we can't be too cautious, especially considering your past head injury."

I waved my hands before me in protest. "No, really, a hospital visit isn't necessary. It's just a mild cold or a sore throat. I'll recover here at home. I don't want to inconvenience you both. I'll be alright."

My mother's brow furrowed. "Arian, you have regular check-ups, remember?"

"Your mother is right, and considering the previous head injury you had, we should be cautious," my father added.

Check-ups? Head injury? Confusion clouded my mind.

"What happened to my head?"

Their gazes met, their eyes sad. "Arian, it seems you don't remember the accident from a couple of weeks ago," my father said with a fragile voice.

My mother touched my father's shoulder gently. "Before we delve into that, let's finish breakfast, okay? Your coffee and Arian's milk are getting cold."

The shift from their previous enthusiasm was palpable, but I couldn't understand what had transpired.

Walking to the kitchen table, I felt the weight of the room's somber silence. We took our seats, the tension almost tangible.

My father finally spoke, his voice a mixture of sorrow and remorse. "Actually, Arian, a few weeks ago, you had an accident."

The word 'accident' jolted me. "An accident?"

Confusion clouded my thoughts. I had no memory of any accident before my father's death. This was all new to me.

My mother continued. "Two weeks ago, you fell from the second floor balcony of our house. You hit your head and remained unconscious for a week."

The shock of their words was overwhelming. "What...?"

My father reached for my hand, his voice strained with guilt. "We're both sorry, Arian. It's our fault for not being more vigilant. I had taken you out to the balcony, thinking we could enjoy a moment there. But I got distracted with a phone call, and the next thing I knew, you had fallen."

He bowed his head, his words heavy with regret. My mother followed suit, her eyes filled with sorrow.

"No, please don't blame yourselves," I hurriedly interjected. "I can see that you both genuinely care. But I think I'm the one at fault for not being cautious enough. I should've been more careful."

As they shared their remorse, my memory remained blank regarding the incident they described. But the eerie similarity to my previous attempt to end my life struck me. Had I fallen from that balcony on purpose before?

The weight of their concern shifted, and they discussed moving into a new house, a place without a second floor to avoid any future accidents.

"Dad, Mom, there's no need to move just because of me," I protested. "It's not your fault; it's mine. I promise to be more careful from now on."

My mother's reassuring touch calmed me. "Thank you, Arian. We appreciate your understanding, but the decision to move had been made before the accident. We've already purchased the new house, and some of our furniture is already there."

I realized that some of our furniture had indeed been missing from our current home. They went on to explain the benefits of the new house, its proximity to markets and a future school, but my guilt continued to gnaw at me.

A hint of pain lingered in my head, and my father asked, "Arian, how are you feeling? Is your head still hurting?"

"My head does ache a bit, but I should be fine," I replied, my heart pounding with unease. I had inadvertently created a situation where I was now heading to the hospital, my feigned sickness now a cause for concern.

My mother's voice broke through, "After breakfast, we'll head to the hospital, alright?"

"Yes, after breakfast, I'll take you for a check-up before work."

My heart raced as the situation spiraled beyond my control. But I had to rely on my acting skills, maintain the illusion, and navigate this unexpected turn.

CHAPTER 33 -END-

To Be Continued.