Metanoia (n.) the journey of changing one's mind, heart, self or way of life.
Part one
Darcy Russo a nine year old girl living in a run down orphanage on the outskirts of Athens, Greece has had to fend for herself for the majority of her life. Bei...
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I bite my nails as I sit on my window ledge, looking out at the miles of trees that surround our house.
I've never been so conflicted in my life.
Even when I was little I always trusted my instincts and trusted my ability to make the right choices but now it seems as if I'm unable to make a decision. I'm too scared whatever choice I make will be the wrong one.
It's not about age or money, I know I'm mature and responsible enough to raise a child. It's about mentality.
Am I in the right head space to be raising a child? I know I've become a lot more stable now that I'm living with my brothers but I still have night terrors and flashbacks regularly. Surely that can harm the baby.
I feel a bond with this baby already and I know it would kill me to get rid of it but I'm not sure if I can handle being a mother right now, especially if I'm doing it alone.
I haven't even told Santiago. I'm scared of his reaction, I know an eighteen year old wouldn't want to be held back by the responsibly of a child.
I realise that I'll eventually have to tell him either way but I at least want to be sure and confident in my decision first.
But what if I end up keeping it and he starts to resent me?
Pessimistic thoughts cloud my mind as I start to do something I haven't done in years, cry. I choke back sobs as the feeling of vulnerability overwhelms me.
"Hey you wanna come with me to-" Angelo says while barging in my room. I look up at him and immediately start wiping away my tears, trying to conceal my moment of weakness.
"Hey, what's wrong?" Angelo says worriedly while making his way over to me. This must be strange to him, even when I was little I barely ever cried so he's rarely ever seen me be vulnerable.
When he asked me what was wrong it's like the flood gates opened and I just started bawling uncontrollably. He sits next to me, engulfing me in a tight hug as he rocks me back and forth.
I'm crying so hard that my body is shaking, it's as if the past six years worth of tears are now finally coming out.
"Sshhh it's alright," He reassures while rubbing my back. He tries comforting me but I'm hysterical at this point.
"Darc tell me what's wrong so I can help," He pleads. I'm so desperate for guidance that I actually do the thing I've always dreaded, asking for help.
"I'm pregnant," I choke out in between sobs.
He just stares at me, stunned. "You're what?" He stutters, even though I know he heard me.
We sit on the window seal in silence for a minute, letting the information sink in. "Whose is it?" He asks, dumbfounded. I don't reply, containing to cry.
