A Day I Wish Had Never Happened

Is there a day you wish had never happened? It could be a day where everything seems to be
against you, or it could be a day where something caused a massive change you would rather
not have. Either way, everyone has a day like that, be it the day you lost a friend, or the day
you signed your freedom away. I too, have one day just like it. But my day, I would bet my
life on it, is different from yours, for mine happened long before I gain any understanding of
this cruel world, and so I have no recollection of it. I came to know of this day from the
mouth of my parents. My adoptive parents.

     It was a chilly night of December. A man in ragged clothes fought the wind shouting
around him. His hands and lips were blue, and his teeth chattered against each other without
stopping. The poisonous chills were sinking into his skin and seeping into his veins, but he
ignored it. He was moving with a dazed look, as if he didn’t care where he was headed. His
hair whipped around wildly around his face. Anyone who peered closely onto his eyes will be
aware of the fact that this man had just gone through a lot, for there were nothing in his eyes,
just a deep depth of sadness and a sense of hopelessness. Nothing, he cared for nothing. But
in his arms was a bundle of clothes, where a baby slept peacefully in warmth and protection.

     He staggered onto a bridge and looked down into the water below. All he could see was
ripples of the dark, murky water sometimes catching the light of the city. But he could very
well hear the rushing of the water and knew that it would be freezing during winter. If he
jumps into it, he could kick the bucket in less than 10 minutes from hypothermia. Maybe…
he could jump in with the baby girl. All was meaningless.

     The baby girl shifted in the bundle of clothes, cooing and waving her tiny hand towards
the man. And for the first time in the cold night, the man felt warmth settling into him. He
hesitated, the thought of caring for her flashed across his mind. But with it came the sweet
image of his wife’s face, and a sharp pain impaled his heart. He cannot. He cannot take care
of this infant here. It was all too painful. What happened just hours before that day stole into
his mind.

     A woman had cried out loud, her water just broke. The baby is coming! But it was
snowing too heavily, and the roads were too slippery. The cars were stuck. She was there
with the maid and her husband who has no knowledge whatsoever about childbirth. Wave
after wave of pain washed over her frail figure, and she slipped in and out of consciousness
so often that she wasn’t sure whether she was alive any longer.

     When the nurse finally arrived, the woman was heaving the last of her breath. It was
obvious that she was struggling to hold onto the last thread of her life. Her eyes rolled up now
and again from the overwhelming pain that mercilessly engulfed her. Tears lined both her
cheeks while the sheen of sweat reflected her sufferings. Her hands were gripping the sheets
so tightly that it was threatening to rip it and her teeth gritted against each other. Her chest
moved up and down with every forced breath. Her determination was the only thing keeping
her alive right now. It was a heartbreaking sight. A lump formed in the nurse’s throat and she
quickly moved forward to help this determined woman.

 
     After a few tense minutes, the sound of the baby’s cries echoed into the night, and so did
the woman’s last cry of death. A new life arrived, while another withered. Naturally, the man
was devastated. He drank and somehow managed to make it to the bridge, and now he
continues his aimless journey.

Finally, he stumbled onto someone’s stairs and collapsed there, his heart too heavy to
take another step. Unknowingly, he had come to the steps of his friend’s house. They found
him lying there and helped him in. Through the strings of mumbles from the man, they
managed to make out a few sentences that made sense. They knew everything that happened
and agreed to take in the child while waiting for the man to recover from his sudden loss.
After all, they had no children of their own to love.

     Nodding weakly, the man worded out his thanks and went out the door. It was as if a curse
had been laid upon the family that night, for before the man could even walk across the road,
a truck driver lost control over the wheels because of the slippery road and the truck whirled
out of control and hit the man, killing him on the spot.

     In the end, I stayed with the couple who were my parents' close friends. Throughout the
years, they treated me with love and patience as they would with their own child, and I see to
them as my true parents until they sat me down when I was eight and told me the entire story.
So there I was, an unwanted child, murderer of my own mother. Who am I? What am I? I
sank into the pit of my life at the young age of eight. Don't get me wrong. I love my adoptive
parents, and they , me. But sometimes, I couldn't help but wish that the day had never had
happened. I wish that I could alter the past somehow and I wish that my father had focussed
more on life than death, then the terrible fate would not have befallen on him that day. But I
suppose, it was not anyone's fault that day, just fate pulling the strings of humanity.
Regardless, I will always love my adoptive parents and the parents I never got to know.