Never Seen Anything Quite Like You Too (A The Script Fan-fiction)

15) Is It My Fault?

Have you ever wondered if something truly is your fault? Not like you had some part to play in it but you actually caused something to happen.

The guilt sat not on my chest but inside my brain. What I have done I cannot un-do. I could make amends in subtle ways, but confession was out of the question, even to Glen.

Only in my silent prayers could I speak my heart to God and beg for His mercy. I didn't feel like I deserve any of the love that I have been given in the past but I clung on to it and hung the shreds of my sanity with it.

I prayed that one day I would feel removed from my sin, washed clean of it, but the guilt was a stain on me, like an ugly scar. I have to believe in redemption and rebirth, I have to leave my deeds in past and move on.

It's no that easy and I wish it was but it really isn't. Trust me. If it were as easy as taking a bath and washing away some of the dirt then I would take a million baths just to make it alright again.

If all it took was a prayer then I would never stop praying to God. I would beg for him to hear me out. I would let my knees be red raw from kneeling on them too much. I'd clasp my hands together and is squeeze my eyes shut and pray like I'd never prayed before. Anything for redemption. Anything just to make this that little bit easier.

So I guess I'd better tell you what I have done that is so awful then hasn't I?

After I had woken up with that God awful dream going around my head, tears pouring down my face and an itching desire just to get out and jog to clear my mind, I scrambled out of bed. I didn't bother to make my bed. It can lay just like my thoughts: shrewd, complicated and all over the place.

I went downstairs after getting changed into my jogging wear of tracksuit bottoms, t-shirt, hoodie and trainers. I made myself a cup of tea and drank that as fast as my tongue and throat would allow me. Lets say if I am not able to breathe fire then I will be disappointed. I then filled a bottle with water and placed my iPod into my jogging bottoms and zipped the pocket up, leaving enough room for headphones to sneak their way out and up to my ears.

After running for god knows how long I stopped and walked through the park that was about two miles away from my house.

I discovered a whole new world. Having an early walk in the park could always refresh my mind. Standing at the entrance of the park, the icy breeze made me shiver. As long as I walked inside the park, the first beam of sun light flashed across the sky. Meanwhile, the sky quickly turned into light orange. The grassland looked like a green ocean. I could feel the softness of it like touching a blanket. I closed my eyes and took a long, deep breath. Fresh air tasted like mint went into my nose and filled my lungs. Gardeners grew trees and shrubs along the path. People called trees not only the residents, but also the guardians of park. Those trees had around triple of an adult's height. With numerous branches, they had oval-shaped tree clowns. The late winter and early spring had turned some of the leaves into the colour of a greeny yellow insect. While looking at the branches, I noticed a leaf fall in front of me like a flying butterfly. When it stopped, it died. No matter how hard it struggled, it still couldn't escape the inevitable, just like human. They formed various patterns like the mysterious pictures we saw in dreams. Mother Nature showed her masterpieces to us. Human might treat withered leaves as litter but for trees, they treasured them as invaluable since fallen leaves supplied the indispensable nutrients. Trees grew up and leaves fell. We called this the cycle of life.

The trail brought me to a harmonious resting place. Alongside the tortuous trail, the street lamp suddenly snubbed out. Glancing at the sky, the sun has already risen. An empty, wooden bench came into sight. However, I saw a note behind the back says 'Wet paint'. Opposite to the empty bench, an old couple sat on another bench. The gentleman wore a milky white jacket and sky blue trousers with two black stripes on both sides. He had tanned skin and white hair like the snow in December. I saw a glow on his face, wrinkled by a life time of suffering, which inspired one with a feeling of unshakable optimism. The old lady dressed in the same way of her husband. Not a single word was spitted from their mouth, but they both wore smiles like the new moon. Cherishing everything in life should probably be their recipe of happiness, shouldn't it?

Beyond the rest area I found a fountain, the ripple of water and the song of birds formed a peaceful symphony inside the park. Several birds flew through the branches of trees. Jets of water danced gracefully in the fountain and added vitality to this tiny world. Appreciating little things in daily life could always let us reflect ourselves. When I reached the Northern gate, I have gone to the destination of a meaningful walk. Meanwhile, the curtain for another journey rose. More importantly, my beloved ones and dear friends will always back me up in this journey. It is my life.

After having a glorious walk in the park I ran the rest of the way home in record time. I think it was the motivation of seeing all those wonderful sights and my dream was repressed to the back of mind for the time being. It just felt good to be alive to notice all the finer things in this wonderful world of ours.

What I was not expecting however was to see my Father waiting for me on my doorstep. My father with that stern face of his on. Or was it his angry face? Maybe it was a mixture of the two and I know that I am in deep shit now. Whatever I have done wrong it must be bad; for my father to want to come anywhere near me he must have a bloody good reason for wanting to do so.

"Father! This is a surprise. Hang on let me open the door and I shall invite you in. I will make you a cuppa," I said, trying to be as polite as I could seeing as the last time I saw him he slapped me around the face for wanting to become a painter.

'Your mother was and is good at art but she didn't pursue it as a career. Wanna know why? Because she was wise. She was clever. She knew it wouldn't get her anywhere. It wouldn't pay the rent or put food on the table or pay for all the bills," he had said. It was when I dared to argue back that he wasn't going to stand for it and I gained a slap across the cheek.

"I'm not staying long. I just ... Wanted to tell you something," he said.

I unlocked the door and stepped inside whilst gesturing for him to do the same. He cautiously stepped inside and I led him to the living room area. I sat down on the sofa and he did the same. Albeit awkwardly but he did it all the same. I expected him to stand up.

"What was it you wanted to tell me?" I asked.

He looked me in the eyes. I think that was the worst part. The fact he could look me in the eyes and say what he was about to say without flinching or doing anything.

"Your mother ended up having Hypothyroidism and a high blood pressure. Due to this high blood pressure she ended up having heart attacks," Father started.

"No!" I cried.

"And she never recovered from these inflictions,"

"No!"

"She died last night,"

"NO!" I shouted.

"I'm afraid so. What you don't understand Siena. That it was all your fault she died and I shall never forgive you," My father said.

I now realised. That wasn't a stern look or a look of anger. It was a mixture of upset and the want for revenge.

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A/N: chapter for you. Um I'm not really happy about this one it is meh but tell me what you all think