Unexpected Encounters and Life's Surprises, A story (part 2)

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Should I respond to him? I made a choice. It doesn't hurt to speak with someone. I thus got going. My parents got into a heated argument, most likely the final one before the topic of divorce is eventually brought up. I am the lone child of a dysfunctional family and the survivor of many bad things that happened to me. If you believe that I made it through.

I was eight years old when my cousins all perished in a plane disaster that I survived. It was meant to be a get-together for my cousins and me as well as a children's camp. Our parents took a personal interest in our bond and paid for our group's international travel, providing us with cultural awareness, orientation, and good times. Between my parents and their siblings, the sad incident led to a falling out. Their anguish was too much for them to bear. They believed my parents could not relate to them, and I was deemed a terrible omen, so the grief of losing their kids was too much to bear. My uncles and aunts use my existence as evidence against my parents, saying that their children were slain by my witchcraft.

Our home was burned down when I was ten years old. There had been a minor mishap in the kitchen. I wanted to make my folks some pasta as a surprise. I'm still not sure why, but the gas cooker blew up, bringing the entire home down, and I was unharmed. I sobbed on the grass in front of the home until my parents returned and realized how much they had lost. That night, I could see it in their eyes that they wished I had perished in the fire. They couldn't bear to murder me, but it would have cost them a lot to keep me around.

Many evenings, I sobbed myself to sleep, but either no one heard me or they didn't give a damn about how I was feeling. How horrible it was to be an ill omen for me. My parents' final disagreement concerned whether to kick me out of the house or retain me until I became eighteen. My family detested me. My mother could not handle the shame of actually kicking me out, even though her eyes frequently convey that she and my father share the same values. My father had nothing to do with me anymore.

I intended to celebrate getting my driver's license yesterday by taking my dad's car around the town. An accident resulted from a series of events. While I escaped unharmed, the car's fate was not so favorable; it was declared completely ruined. Although I am still unsure of how it occurred, it did, and I am still alive today. I know I should feel lucky, but this isn't how luck should feel. I should be grateful for my life, yet all I am is a warning sign for everything that can go wrong. Nobody has been able to attribute anything positive to my presence. All I am is proof of all they have lost.

I was so engrossed in my tirade that I failed to see the young man next to me had fallen asleep. He was so content that I almost felt envious of him. I shook him, wanting his serenity so badly. Mr. Man, get up, Joe. Have you even listened to all I said?

Calm down, just be yourself. You were heard. I only want you to be aware of this. He said, clearing his throat.

It's your turn to relax now. Not even water for you, from me. Now relax. Afterwards, he exhaled his final breath.

For the longest time, I was unable to turn away. I pulled myself together, heaved, got up, and moved away from him. One another indication of what is gone. He never even told me his name.

Greetings😊