His Daughter

Chapter 1:

Waking up from a dream like that! I hate it! All I see is HIM! That's all. His face, his little trademark smirk I used to fall more in love with him over, yet all I feel is his hands running over me all over again.

I start crying when I realise it was only a nightmare, but I am soon to quiet down in fear of waking her up.

Marie. Her name was chosen from her grandmother on his side. She was four months old now.

I sigh loudly as I get up and walk into my sisters room. She was my twin.

Shaking her, I start crying again, I remember her face when she found me on the porch that night. My body, all bloody and bruised. Her, so terrified all she could do was scream for mother.

"Rebecca? What- what are you doing in here?" She asks sleepily as she scoots over. I crawl in right next to her.

"All I see is him." I moan into her shoulder. I feel myself tremble as she holds me.

"Shhh-shhhh....it's going to be alright Becca." She whispers soothingly. I shudder a breath and sniff my nose.

"I can't do this." I murmur. I feel my sister lean up and turn on her light.

"You can't do what?"

"Live like nothing happened." I state sadly. Mona shakes her head and holds my face.

"You listen here, Becca. It. Happened. For. A. Reason. If you can't see that reason right in front of your face. Then hunny, you're blind. There is a beautiful little girl in there, begging for her mother to look at her. Yearning for her to even acknowledge that she's there." She said sternly. I shake my head and sob.

"How can I love something, when the other half of it is a monster who ruined my life?" I say shaking. She doesn't understand. She never does.

"Get your ass in that nursery now." She orders, half shoving me out of bed. I yelp and get up off the floor.

z3we"What's looking at her going to help?" She ignores me and shoves me into the nursery.

"Look at that baby! Look at her! Pick her up! Love her! Kiss her head! Feel how she depends on you! Do it!" She growls. I look at the crib and frown.

"I see nothing but a baby. She isn't mine to love, she wasn't ever mine to love."

Mona's eyes flashed red. She walks over to the edge of the crib and picks Marie up.

"Look at her! Just do it!" She yells holding her out to me. I shake my head and start to cry again. I sink to the floor and bawl.

"I can't! Okay?! I can't do it!" I sob as she continues to hold Marie out to me. I push her hands away and Marie starts wailing.

Mona looks at me with disgust and walks out.

Our mother walks in after she leaves and looks down at me.

She sighs and frowns. "It's not going to get any easier. But it's not going to get any harder either. Now you have two options, be a mother to the baby. Or just give up on her. Your choice. You choose the wrong one, you'll regret it your whole life. She didn't do anything to you. She's an innocent little baby. She needs her mummy."

I cover my face and cry more. Mother kneels in front of me and holds me tightly.

"I know sweetie...." She murmurs in my ear as she rocks me.

As I cry, I remember how it felt to hold Marie in my arms for the short four minutes before the doctors whisked her away to be cleaned and braceleted.

She was so tiny, and soft. He lips, beautiful and pink. Her eyes a dark blue colour. Her beautiful bright red hair shining through. I remember running my hand over her head. Several times, she fell asleep. I remember she would barely cry at night.

I stood up and took a deep breath.  I can do this. Just pick her up.
I reached in and lifted her screaming body from the crib.

I heard her quiet down as I sat down in the rocking chair in the corner. My mother smiles and winks at me as she ushers my sister out of the room. This isn't so bad. My mom was right, this isn't so bad. She an innocent baby. He's not in the picture. I'll be ok-

There was a small knock at the door. My sister peeked in and handed me a bottle for Marie. I took it, grateful for her, and set the nipple on her small lips and she took it easily.

I sighed in relief. This didn't happen all the time, my PTSD got ahold of me. I love my daughter, but sometimes the baby blues get ahold of me, along with the memories of before.