Jonathan Hunt is a lonely person with his own sad story; And so is Ashleigh Bradbury. John, however, finds his ways to balance the pain and mirth in his life. Ash, on the other hand, has started to live with the pain. While John is learning to adjus...
A NEW JOURNEY, WITH NEW LEADS, CANDICE AND EDWARD. HOPEFULLY, YOU CAN GIVE THEM JUST AS MUCH LOVE AS YOU GAVE JOHN AND ASH <3
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"An escape from your miseries, is the gate to love."
❛❛「₪」❜❜
Ed's P.O.V.
"When you are guilty, it is not your sins you hate . . . but yourself."
"Here Lies Howard Franklin Young."
"1936-1983"
I felt my heart pounding loud as I read those words on my father's grave. A guilt was what he left behind. A mistake was what he left behind. I was the mistake. I was the sin. And though he had never hated me, somewhere I knew that he was guilty about me. I was a mistake nobody could change. My father had died today due to AIDS. One day, I'd die the same death and nobody would ever even know. A silent, lonely death with nobody I loved around me.
Two years ago this disease was discovered in the United States of America. Nobody had ever imagined that something so deadly could live inside them. We hadn't either. But when my mother passed away due to this disease last year, an atmosphere of stress took its place in our house. My father had a check up about a week later, and it was confirmed that he was going through the same disease, and that this was the reason he had been extremely sick since the past 3 years.
It had a treatment, yes. There weren't medicines which could heal you but there were medicines which could fetch you a few more years of life. Maybe four to five years; more in some cases and less in the others. But there were two problems about it. One- the medicines were expensive, Two- we were broke. So my father remained without any special treatments, and the basic ones weren't helping, causing him to eventually die.
Today he left all of us. He left back a family to mourn over his absence. He left back a son who- when little- used to look for his arms when he wanted to cry in pain. He left back a wife who would look for his smile when sad. And he left back a mistake who would look for his words of wisdom when in doubt.
No, his wife didn't die. Yes, my mother did. I was an illegitimate child.
"Edward what are you doing here?" I heard Elvis' clearly outrageous voice from behind. I gulped as I stood up on my feet, giving a last look to my father's grave. I felt a rush of adrenaline as I tried to move ahead without having to meet eyes with Elvis. A sigh of relief left my mouth as I successfully managed the escape.
"Wait." I heard him call me.
"Uh- yes?" I said, turning around with my fingers crossed.
