#Day 3#

Chapter 13

Ava POV (And in case you don't understand it, this first part is her remembering)

His soft brown eyes went hard with anger, his face going sharp and rigid. Before that day I had never seen that side of John, he was always happy, funny, sweet. Maybe a little bit cocky and overprotective, but never this angry, and definitely not at me.

"Please John, you have to listen to me, this is for the best. We don't need it in our lives, it will ruin our futures. We won't be able to go to college, won't get good jobs, but have to work every second of every day just to keep our heads above water… Don't you want to make something of yourself John? This is a mistake, that-" My words turned into a short scream of pain as my head spun and I fell to my bedroom floor with a burning sensation covering the right side of my face. I cupped my hands over my throbbing cheek, not fully comprehending what just happened. John had… John had slapped me!?

"This is not a mistake; you're talking about our child!" he yelled as he towered over me, making me scoot back until my back hit the bed frame. I hated to show fear, to feel weak, but right now I was terrified, shaking like a leaf, tears streaming down my cheeks, bottom lip quivering.

"J-john," I stuttered.

"Shut up!" he roared, his body starting to shake violently. "You just, you, Ava, how could you even think that?!"

"You said it was my choice," my voice was quiet but by the fire in his darkening eyes I could tell he heard me just fine.

He was silent for a few moments but he was still shaking all over and holding his hands into such tight fists that his knuckles were as white as snow. "I thought you would make the right choice," he growled.

"There is no right choice," I hissed, a bit of anger building up with in me, erasing some of the fear.

"Well there is a wrong one!"

"It's not like this will affect you anyway, at any time you could just walk away and I would be the one left with a kid I didn't want!" I yelled, standing up just to get knocked back to the floor.

"You don't always get what you want you spoilt bitch!"

"Get the hell out of my house!" I screamed as loud as my lungs would let me.

He wanted to say something else, I could just see it by the way his jaw clenched and unclenched, but he didn't. He just shook his head, and scoffed in disgust at me before storming out of my bedroom, slamming the front door on his way out. I heard the engine of his truck rev twice before speeding down the driveway, and… and that was the last time I saw John.

… (time skip back to present day)

The light rain that falls from the gloomy grey clouds mixes with the tears which overflow my eyelids at the torturous memory that keeps replaying over and over again in my mind. I sit on the damp green grass leaning back on a tree trunk. There's a road in front of me and beyond that a large rocky slope that drops off after a hundred feet into the rugged ocean.

I've been here a while now; I had woken up much like the day before and had decided since I had no further plans for the Sunday, a walk would be nice. Chaska had decided to stay home with Mum, which I'm glad of now having seen where my walk took me.

To the average set of eyes this stretch of road may look no different than the next, and to them it isn't. But to me, this will always be the place where John's foot got too heavy on the accelerator… Where his truck tires lost grip… Where his truck, along with him, smashed through the railing and plummeted to the sea below… To be found hung up in the rocks by early morning fishermen the next day.

I don't want to be here, to feel this pain and have my mind replay my last talk with John. But I can't seem to move, to look away from the openness before me. My black tights and purple cotton jacket have been soaked through with the rain. My muscles have become cold and stiff, I kind of feel like a statue here, or more correctly a water feature by the streams that run down my cheeks.

The sound of an engine reaches my ears, quickly getting louder. A few seconds pass before a blue truck drives around the corner and flies by me. I don't pay mind to it but my ears prick to the sound of squeaking breaks then the engine turning off. There's the sound of a door being shut before a familiar male voice speaks loudly, "It's not good for you to be out here Ava…"

I let my eyes drift to the left to see Sam standing behind his blue truck ten or so meters down the road. "…" I open my mouth to say something but no words come out. I sigh before shutting my mouth and looking back at the openness. I don't hear Sam walk closer but I instantly notice the heat that feels like it's radiating off him, making my cold skin feel numb.

He takes a seat next to me and for many moments we stay in silence. "You blame yourself for his death, don't you…?" I let his question linger in the brisk air for a while before nodding.

"…Yeah…"

"Don't Ava, it's not your fault… Do you hear me?"

I sigh, "But it is-"

"-Not! It is not your fault."

"Sam-"

"No Ava," he says, out of the corner of my eye I see him turning his upper body to look at me. "John drove himself off that cliff, not you."

"I was the one that made him angry, I was so stupid. I let him walk away, I told him to get the hell out, and he did," I sob, almost hysterical. Sam wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me to his side. "If… If I just… Just- I shouldn't have told him, I should have just dealt with it myself. I'm an awful person… I…" A new wave of sobs starts, making my words tearful mumbles.

Sam hushes me when I try to speak again. "…What did you tell him?" Sam asks softly, calmly, not a trace of anger in his voice, why isn't he angry at me?

"I-I decided getting rid of the baby would be the best option… God I'm awful, awful, awful, awful," I mutter, running an angry hand over my hair.

"So Chaska is John's kid, huh?"

"I-I should have-e told you sooner, I-I-I just didn't know how-w," I stutter, rubbing my eyes with the back of my hands.

"Ava… look at me," I tilt my head to look at Sam, I'm taken off guard by the large smile that crosses his face. "I'm not angry at you Ava, I don't blame you. No one's angry at you, no one blames you, because there's nothing to blame. My brother was the stupid idiot that never deserved someone like you."

"I'm awful."

"...Why do you think you're so awful?" he asks.

"…" I bite down on my bottom lip and shake my thoughts from my head with anger and guilt.

"…Do you love your son?"

"Of course I do," I say without hesitation, looking Sam straight in the eye, then back across the road. "But I can't stop thinking of my life without him. And I hate myself for that," I sigh, shaking my head.

"You're human Ava, sure you will think about your life and what it could have been, but take a second to see what it is… You've had your fair share of pain, now it's your time to be happy… Now come on, let me take you home," Sam said, standing up. He holds a hand out to me and I take the offered help to stand as my legs fill with pins and needles.

I stare back to the edge for a few moments, until Sam lightly tugs on my hand, making me look away… So I walk away, following Sam back to his truck. Next time I come by here I hope I can walk away.

#THANK YOU! to all the amazing people out there that are following and have favourite this story, means a lot#

#And for anyone that's interested I have started another Twilight story called Heaven is waiting (Jacob imprint story). It's about Sam's little sister Fay, and how she spent the first sixteen years of her life being abuse in more ways then one. And how she found her own personal heaven#

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