The Birth Created By A Murder

hanging

sophia pulled a drag from her cigerette standing out the terapists office. her fingers twitching. she was not enjoying this. having to relive her mess of a life which she could see know happy ending for. no matter how hard she tried. it always seemed to fail. sighing as she flicked her finished smoke she trudged back up into her therapists office.
sitting down and taking a sip of water she was ready to continue. "ok so now we have established the basics of your adoptive father lets go over some other traumas. im made aware that your son was conceievd from a rape attack?" the therapist looked at sophia who shrugged. "yeah i was 16, nothing much to it, walking to a friends home in the evening, winter, got hit over the head and raped by a stranger la de da , police, tests so fourth. 3 months later discovered i was pregnant, booked an abortion, the night before felt the babys first kick, cancelled the treatment and continued the pregnancy."
the therapist nodded. "are you not to effected by the attack?" "no" "why" "why would i be"
the therapist scribbled some more notes. "ok so what happened with your son, where is he?"
sophia smiled emptily. "he was taken from me. illegally. i had entered a vunerble rough relashionship, i thought i was in love, it had just been me and my son for nearly 3 years, i thought i was ready for a man in my life. he preyed on my open heart and vunerability, by the time i realised he was abusive i was trapped in his claws. he even forced me to shave all my hair off so no other men looked at me. he wasnt too physcial, more physcological. he was a heroin addict and alcoholic. my son never saw anything with him, i kept him well seperated from the relashionship. when i finally found the courage to leave this mess, he followed me on the train and to my new flat in the next city over. forced his way in, beat me, and pushed me through a window. i went into a coma. a few weeks later when i woke up, everything i knew was gone. the ex boyfriend had been arressted and not allowed near me, my son had been adopted. i say it was illegal because an adoption process is supposed to take months, i know from my own experience, this took a few mere weeks. its called forced adoption."
sophia abruplty stopped. "i dont want to talk about him anymore, i tell everyone who knew him that he passed away, its the only way i can cope with this loss. its easier this way instead of every day wondering where he is and how he is doing. they wouldnt tell me a thing"
sophias therapists lips parted slightley revealing shock.
"do you have any other children?"
"no. well technically yes, but they are not mine. when i was 15, i birthed a girl, who i gave to my adoptive brother and his wife as they couldnt have children. i birthed another girl just before escaping the man that put me in a coma, i didnt want that pregnancy or child and i left the hospital within the hour that i birthed here, i refused to even look at her face. i couldnt do it." "my son is my only child"

the therapist paused, tapping her pen on her paper. she frowned. so much in such little time. she could tell that sophia was making it all out to be more simple too, and she wanted the details but was cautious to push her to hard. she could tell sophia was relieved to talk but also angry and cautious about this too. how to continue, what to ask for next. something good? was there anything good? thats when the therapist noticed scars on sophias neck. sophia caught the look and rubbed them. "yes i need a tattoo here, not much to them, i tried to take my life intoxicated, after waking up, about 2 weeks after knowing they had ripped my son away. nothing happened, friends called ambulance and i got stitched up. was fine. but it changed something in me"

"was this your first suicide attempt?" the therapist pondered. "heh, second actually, first time was maybe 5 months after birthing the first girl, at 17. i overdosed on pills, got a stomach pump and a good telling off froma nurse who cared for me the 4 days i was there."

sophia smiled "i havent self harmed in 3 years actually, i started when i was around 11. finally stopped. i dont feel for it anymore. i started getting tattoos instead" she giggled. finally something happy thought the therapist.

at 28 years old, sophia felt proud of her recent accomplishments, but knew she needed to deal with all of this mess that had been festering in her mind. growing with each passing day with fear. she needed to unravel it all and examine each peice. what should she press onto now? more rape, the drugs, the recklessness financially, the eating disorders, the bad dreams, the loss of family and friends. hmm, she knew now. the time she met her mother when she was 18. in prison for closure. now that was a day and experience she would never ever forget.