The House at the Edge

Alex....

"Did you know that I am not the first wife of father?"

My jaw dropped in surprise as my mother revealed an unexpected piece of information.

"Wait, what?" I asked. "You're not the first wife of father? But...how is that possible?"I echoed, stunned by the revelation."

I was utterly stunned by this new information. I never would have guessed. My father had always seemed so devoted to my mother, so to hear that she was not his first wife was absolutely shocking. I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

"He had to divorce her first wife because she went crazy after losing her daughter too. It was said her daughter died a gruesome death. She meet a serial killer and died by getting her limb cut off one by one and..."

My horror and disbelief mounted as my mother provided more horrifying details about my father's previous wife. Her words sent chills down my spine as she described the awfulness of the woman's daughter fate.

"Wait, he had to divorce her because she went insane after losing her daughter !?" I repeated, a chill running down my spine.

"And...and her daughter died such a gruesome, horrific death? What...what happened to her?" My voice trembled as I spoke.

The child was severe wounded and her limb cut off by a serial killer. Then thrown inside a well!

I felt a mixture of disbelief and relief wash over me as my mother continued her story.

"A few days later, her body was found in a… really bad state."

I couldn't wrap my head around the horrific details my mother was revealing. It was like a nightmare come to life, a tale of unimaginable suffering.

"But... but atleast she still found her daughter's body!"

Wh-While Alice!..." Ahhhh!!

My mother's words hit me like a punch to the gut as she compared the fate of my father's first wife's daughter to that of Alice. The anger and frustration came rushing back as I remembered the unfair treatment that Alice had always received, compared to me.

"But...but at least the first wife's daughter was found," I retorted, my voice edged with bitterness.

"Unlike Alice, who's always treated like some untouchable heroine. It's always Alice, Alice, Alice!"

She was sobbing. It was excruciating to watch her cry as if she had lost everything. Her pain was palpable, as if she had been stripped of her very soul. Her body was racked with sobs, each one tearing through her with such intensity that it seemed as if she was physically breaking apart.

I watched my mother as she broke down in tears. The pain and despair on her face were almost unbearable to witness, as if she had been stripped of her very being.

My own frustration and anger were momentarily set aside as my heart ached for her. Despite my own struggles and the difficult relationship we had, seeing her in so much torment was like a knife through my heart.

She was a shell of the person she once was, as if she had lost all hope and purpose. It was as if the very essence of her being had been shattered, leaving her raw and exposed, vulnerable to the world. But! She still has ME and father.

"So just WHY!?."

Her words were interrupted by my outburst, as my frustration once again rose to the surface.

"But you still has father and me!" I exclaimed, my voice filled with frustration. "I'm right here, caring and worrying about you. But even knowing that, you still acts like you are all alone and has lost everything. Why can't you just realize that you are not alone? That I'm here for you and that I care about you?"

I took a deep breath, trying to rein in my emotions and calm myself.

"I...I'm sorry," I muttered, my voice softening. "I didn't mean to raise my voice like that. I just...I just want you to realize that you are not alone."

I slowly approached my mother, wrapping my arms around her in a comforting embrace but she push me away while looking at me with a deepth of anguish and tears streamed unchecked down her cheeks, leaving a trail of wetness on her pale face. Her gaze was intensed, filled with a mixture of despair and disbelief, as if she was trying to make sense of what had just happen.

"Everything!...Everything was fine! peaceful!" she said, her voice laced with anger and despair. "Alice was healthy, but after...after you..."

"YOU!" she shouted, her voice filled with anger and blame. "After YOU came to this house! You ruined everything! You brought misfortune to this family!!"

I felt a pang of hurt as my mother continued to blame me for everything, her words cutting to the core of my insecurities.

I tried to hold back my emotions, feeling the weight of her disappointment and frustration bearing down on me.

Her accusing words hit me like a physical blow, reinforcing my fears and insecurities.

I felt my heart aching as her words echoed in my ears, my self-doubt and feelings of inadequacy growing stronger.

"I...I objected the idea of getting an adopted son," she murmured, her voice laced with regret.

"But your father was relentless in his desire to have one. I was worried about how it might affect Alice, but she seemed okay, so I didn't fight too hard against it."

My heart sank as I realized the truth behind my mother's words, that my presence in the family was not truly wanted by her.

"Afterwards, I heard from the orphanage that...that you were thrown away by your own mother."

Her words cut deep, a dagger to my already fragile self-worth.

"SO!" she yelled, her voice filled with hostility.

"It must be because YOU are misfortune, that's why even your own biological mother threw you away!"

My heart ached as her accusation echoed in my ears, every syllable confirming my worst fears and doubts about my own worth. Her words seared through my soul, igniting a fire of despair and self-recrimination.

"IF!....If we hadn't adopted you, Alice would be happy and ALIVE!." she declared bitterly. "It is all because of YOU!"

The weight of her accusation was almost too much to bear, and I found myself struggling to keep my emotions in check as I heard her blame me for the tragedies that had befallen my family.

What she express to me left me speechless. Upon hearing those words, I feel a mix of emotions. Initially, I feel anger and indignation at being accused of causing misfortune and the loss of Alice. 

Her words continued to haunt me, the realization that mother had never wanted me leaving me drowning in a sea of self-doubt and pain.

As her words sank in, I could feel a storm of emotions swelling up inside me. At first, anger and indignation flared within me, triggered by her unjust accusation that I was responsible for the tragedies befallen our family.

But as I stood there, absorbing the raw pain and bitterness in her voice, I also felt a mixture of guilt, fear, and shame. The weight of her words was overpowering, and I struggled to maintain my composure in the face of her wrathful onslaught.

"My own mother didn't want me..." the thought repeated in my mind, over and over again. "I was just tossed aside, like garbage."

My heart twisted in pain as those thoughts whirled around in my mind, a relentless mantra that echoed the bitter truth of my existence.

I also feel deep sadness and guilt, wondering if the words of my mother are true. I feel a sense of shame and helplessness, believing that my presence has indeed brought bad luck into the family. 

Yet, deep down, I also feel a sense of rebellion and defensiveness. As the storm of emotions raged inside me, I was torn between two conflicting impulses. On one hand, a part of me felt the urge to defend myself, to prove that I was not the cause of all the tragedy.

"But...but what should I do?" I questioned, my mind swirling with confusion and uncertainty.

"Should I apologize? Stand up for myself? Or, on the other hand, should I be angry at her for blaming me so unfairly?"

I wrestled with indecision, torn between contradictory feelings. I desperately wanted to set the record straight, to prove that I was not the cause of all the pain and suffering, but at the same time, a part of me was filled with anger and defensiveness.

"I don't know what to do," I repeated to myself, my mind tangled in a web of doubts.

"Should I apologize? Or should I be angry at her for lashing out so unfairly?"

The realization hit me like a ton of bricks. My mother's words echoed in my mind, confirming that she had never really bothered to get to know me or understand my past.

"What does she even know about me?" I thought bitterly.

"NOTHING! She never asked about me, my health, or my past. She doesn't even care enough to try and understand me or my struggles."

"It's always been about Alice," I thought bitterly.

"All her attention, her love, her care - it's always been focused on Alice. I'm just an afterthought to her, a burden she has no interest in understanding or caring for."

As my thoughts swirled in a spiral of bitterness and anger, that one word echoed through my mind, demanding a response.

"Then?"

What was I supposed to do with this realization, with this bitter pill of truth that had been forcefully shoved down my throat? Should I confront my mother, demand she acknowledge me? Should I lash out or withdraw into myself?