Our indelible pasts|✔

fifty six - kiana

Dear diary,

It's been weeks since I last had an entry but honestly, these last few weeks have been absolutely dreadful. The only reason I'm actually writing again is because I feel like this is the best form of therapy I can get for what's been happening. It's my last resort to feeling somewhat better (assuming it actually helps).

Talking to Kiana, or even the twins is COMPLETELY out of the picture. This isn't something I can just talk to them about. Plus, it will absolutely break their hearts. And explaining this, will mean explaining everything. I can't do that. Not to myself, and especially not to them.

God, I don't even know how to explain this...what to actually say. Every website says writing it all down will help but I don't fucking know how to. Like my hands are literally fucking shaking right now.

I need a minute. No actually, I just need to fucking die right now.

If I write this all down and it doesn't feel relieving in any way, I'm going to fucking lose it. Okay, fuck it. Let me just get straight to the point.

I've been staring at the page for five minutes now and I still can't figure out how to start.

Why am I like this???

I'll start by saying it hurts. Because it hurts so damn much. In all imaginable ways, mentally AND physically. But the bleeding has been the worst part of it all. It's already been 15 fucking days of bleeding. It's like a never-ending period.

Abortions are just as hard to go through as I read about them on the internet. In fact, it feels worse than they make it sound. It feels like periods on steroids with the excruciatingly painful cramps and nonstop bleeding. The bleeding has reduced yeah, but wearing pads every damn day is getting really irritating.

Dad checks in every day, making sure the torture he forced on me is working. Of course, he's more concerned about whether it will work more than he is concerned about my well-being. Wanting to protect himself as usual.

The annoying thing about all this is that I'm not even sure if I got pregnant because of...God it feels so fucked up to write this.

I'm not sure if I got pregnant because of dad, or because of Liam. Before I went for the field trip all those weeks back, dad did it yet again. Then Liam did it to me too during the field trip. I don't even want to say that Liam... "raped" me as well. I don't know what to call it. I didn't say yes, but I also didn't try to stop him. But then again, it's the same thing that always happens with dad. Whatever the fuck it is, they both did it. So, it could be anyone's child. But dad obviously doesn't know about Liam and the only reason I told dad that I was pregnant was because I was scared and mostly because...I was hoping it would get him to stop. I pray that he does.

My life is literally one big fucking mess right now, oh my fucking days.

This is just too fucked up to write. Fuck whatever the internet said about this. I'm done. I'M FUCKING DONE.

I wasn't the only one...

I pull my knees forward, hugging them as I try to suppress my tears while a flood of all the terrible memories of my past rush to the front of my mind, except where my face should be, I see Kayla's.

"Mama says hi." I jolt and look up to see it's just Noah through the blurriness in my eyes.

"Are you okay?" He furrows his bushy eyebrows as he makes his way to me, and I just shake my head in response. "What's wrong Ki?" I hear him ask when he's next to me.