The Birth Created By A Murder

now to relive

Two years had passed. The girl now 4 and the boy just a year and a half younger. They shivered together on a soiled mattress, in a sparce room. darkened by the night. Their clothes passed as rags, the stench of feaces and urine thick in the air, they tried to sleep. They had tried to open the bedroom door but to no avail. Hungry, alone, they tried to sleep. A noise cautioned the girl to peer out the window, fear struck into her tiny beating heart. all she could see was a blinding light and a large figure coming through the back yard. Thoud thunerous bangs as this figure barrelled through the back door into the cold dirty dark house. She quivered with fear as she heard the slow loud footsteps climbing the stairs. They sropped. A slight creak before hearing the rope that tied the door shut being removed. the door creaked slwoly open along with the blinding light. The girl passed out from sheer fear.

Flashing lights, a siren, caused the girl to wake up groggily. her baby brother staring tiredly but excitedly out the car window as the outside world swooshed by. Taken by a policeman who finally decided to answer distressed neighbors calls of two malnourished children drinking puddles or picking trash up to eat. Taken to the hospital, The girl barley rememebers anything else. Her memory forbade it.

years dragged by, until at 22 the girl had to see a therapist for a court order. something she had avoided all her life, enraged by the mistrust she had in the social services system. But now in a position she could not deny.

"Lets begin" the therapist spoke softly. "where would you like to start?"
The girl shrugged, unable to even look at the therapist. "lets start by answering some basic questions" pressed the therapist. "id like to know what happened to your father."
The girl frowned and still did not speak. The therapist pursed her lips for a moment. "What about your son, thats why your here, tell me about him"
The girls eyes filled with angry tears. she visibly shook trying to take a breath, and shook her head.
"Sopia" the therapist softly spoke. "we need to start somewhere, so please, help me to help you. Be brave, be open. im not here to hurt you or judge you. im here to listen, to help . i want to help."

Sophia looked at her for a split second before giving a small wry smile. "are you ready?"

"yes."