Mia's Coping Journal

Mia Hernandez

2/7/19

Bea asked me today to be her unborn child’s godmother. I gritted my teeth and told her that would be an honor. But I can’t, heaven only knows how I’ll react when she’s given birth. Maybe a mad, deprived man, crazed by my own desires. She hugged me after, jabbing her six-month-old belly into my flat belly.

2/17/19

I’m moving you know. Somewhere with an abundant forest and green scenery, isolated from the rest of the world. I need to collect myself and do some serious soul-searching. The move isn’t for another two weeks, but I’ve already decided to start packing. I can’t decide whether I should take my maxi skirts or leave them behind with my old life. And though it pains me, I don’t think I’ll be needing them where I’m going

2/20/19

Max knows I’m moving! I’ll have to disappear faster. If he tells Bea I’m screwed, she’ll never let me leave, she doesn’t understand. I’m leaving a week early hopefully the house is ready. I’m leaving my maxis’, hell I’m leaving everything, my identity, my life, my never to be born child. Starting over feels good. Be grateful I’m taking you.

2/28/19
I found you! My moving crew lost my personal belongings box, and you were in there. They found the box at one of their storage areas. Anyway, I have so much to tell you, well about the house. It’s old but I like it. The floorboards creak every time I walk, and the windows are so dusty you can’t even see through them. And the space, there’s so much of it, I’m grateful for the kept furniture I don’t think I would’ve been able to fill the lot of it. This house is so magnificent, I love it here. Honestly.

3/15/19

I’ve been feeling sick lately, I think I’m catching a stomach flu or maybe it’s just from the congestion of the dust. I’ve been dusting like crazy. My neighbor came over today, an older woman with a sunshiny smile. She shoved a whole basket of food into my arms and I thanked her kindly. I’ve been extra hungry lately. Maybe I’ll go into town and buy some food, it’s all organic down here

3/20/19

I enjoy lying outside on the grassy hills, bundled in my sweater and knitted blanket. The forest sings to me telling me stories of its animals and it lulls me to sleep. Sometimes it feels as if a presence is pushing on my stomach. I let it push until tears are pooling in my eyes, and the wind has to carry them away.