Diary Of A Pack Whore

Entry 11: A Death And A Birth

Miles looked at the clock realizing it was almost three in the morning. He was supposed to pick his daughter up from Jordan's parents when he got up, but he had so many unanswered questions. He was halfway through Rhea's journal and instead of providing answers, with each entry his list of questions just grew. It was like she knew she had a captive audience and wanted to keep him on the edge of his seat.

Now with her last entry he had to wonder what had happened to her and the baby. Were they alright? They had to be. If she died how could she have written the rest of her diary? Miles couldn't stop now. If he read through the night he could finish. Mama Cass wouldn't mind him waiting until later in the day to come by. And if he finished he could finally have his answers. No more having to track down people Rhea had known. She would tell him, eventually.

***Representative Todd Akin of Missouri had claimed that pregnancy from rape is really rare. Stating "If it's a legitimate rape, the female body has ways to try to shut the whole thing down." When in truth studies show that conception is over twice as likely from one act of rape compared to one single act of consensual sex.***

Entry 11:  A Death And A Birth

I can remember the day Daisy gave me this diary. Verity and I had been working on my reading and writing for a month and I was beginning to become more comfortable. It was maybe my fourth meeting and I just sat and listened. Daisy pulled me aside as we were all beginning to leave. In her hands was a small package wrapped in paper and tied up with twine.

"You're not ready to talk." She told me bluntly. "That's okay. For some they can talk right away. For others it takes longer. Many women never get to the point that they can talk freely about their lives. Each of us deal with the pain differently." She handed me the package in her hands and smiled kindly. "When you are ready you tell your story here. Within the pages of this book. That way you have a release. And if the day comes that you can say the words out loud, well then we will be here to support you. But only when you are ready. This is not something you can force. There is no set time limit and there is no single way to grieve. Just know that you belong wether you tell your story tomorrow or in twenty years, we will be there with a shoulder to cry on and a hand to hold you up."

It was months before I picked up that little book and began my journey. Frank had been in the kitchen closing up the night I collapsed. Hearing me scream he rushed up the stairs and broke down my door fearing someone had hurt me. He was right, in a way. Just, that someone was hundreds of miles away and knew nothing of what they did. That their thoughtless decisions would kill another.

The next day I sat alone in my hospital bed grieving for my loss. To never see my beautiful girl grow up. To miss her first words, her first steps. To never get to tell her how proud I was of her. All taken away by the selfishness of a handful of people who would never understand the consequences of their thoughtless actions. I had to wonder if they would even care. If as the years progressed they would become good people and regret the past as I did. I will never know.

"Miss Mars? I need to draw some more blood."

The healer from Lissana's pack said as he entered my room. He was a kind man from what I had experienced so far. Explaining what he would do each step of the way. Because of him my Sunshine would live. I looked over to the small incubator and stared at my precious daughter. The leads and tubes marring her innocent body didn't detract from the beauty of her perfect form. The dark hair that dusted her head, her ten little fingers and toes. Each piece of her was exactly as it should be. Only her lungs had not finished forming. So for now the machine that stood at the end of the ugly tubes breathed for her. Giving my little one the life that would soon be taken from me.