Content Warning: This story contains many sensitive subjects that some readers might find highly disturbing and potentially triggering. If you are particularly sensitive to themes including sexual assault, pregnancy/miscarriages, and violence, please continue with caution.
Prologue
The air was cold.
A door slammed somewhere else in the building - but the sound echoed loud like a gunshot.
Katie Knight jumped at the sound, the metal chair beneath her creaking from the movement. Her shaky breathing came out in gasps as she clenched her fingers around the edge of the table, turning her knuckles white. She steadied herself by studying the goosebumps on her arms, unsure if the hair stood up from the cold - or fear.
"Katie?"
Her eyes darted from the corner of the room to the woman sitting across the table from her. The woman had her black hair pulled back into a tight bun, and her blouse was buttoned all the way up to her neck. Katie studied it, trying to steady her breathing. A knot formed in her throat, and she felt sick. The woman blinked her brown eyes at Katie, a look of sympathy and concern.
"If you aren't ready to talk-" The woman began.
"No." Katie interrupted her, her voice coming out high pitched. Her voice didn't sound like her own. She felt as though she were listening to someone else. Through a screen, or an old radio. "I want to get it over with."
The woman nodded, leaning forward against the table and clasping her hands together. Through Katie's fear, she felt oddly subdued. This cold, dark room, with only two chairs, a table, and an overhead light was unnerving. However, this woman's presence comforted her. She felt like a mother, like a protector.
Katie sighed. She hadn't felt safe in quite a long time. She was probably imagining the security she felt in this room. It couldn't last. It never did.
"You're very brave, Katie." The woman murmured, a kind smile playing on her lips. "I want you to know that we will do everything in our power to help you. You're safe now."
If I believe that, I'll believe anything. Katie thought to herself. No, I can't afford to be cynical. I have to do this.
"I'm going to set up a camera to record your statement, Katie." The woman spoke slowly, as if she was afraid her words might put off the girl who sat before her.
Katie felt her breath catch in her throat. This was it. The moment her story would become permanent. The months of trying to forget, doing everything she could to pretend it hadn't happened - were over. Once she spoke, she wouldn't be able to take these words back. The knot in her throat tightened, and she felt unable to speak for a moment. Her heart was pounding in her chest, but when she closed her eyes she remembered why she had agreed to come here in the first place.
She lifted her hand to her stomach, feeling the fabric of her shirt crumple beneath her touch. Her heart ached.
"Okay." She whispered.
The woman nodded and leaned down beneath the table, where she reached into a box and pulled out a camera and a tripod. Silently, she assembled the recorder, making sure Katie was in the frame and the microphone was recording properly. Once she was finished, she sat down in her seat across from Katie. "Speak whenever you are ready."
Katie took a deep breath, feeling her lip quiver. There was no going back.
"My name…" Her voice came out hoarse, and she cleared her throat before she began.
"My name is Katie Knight. I am sixteen years old. My brother is Kendall Knight, and we moved to Los Angeles from Minnesota when I was ten. My brother and his three friends were hired by a production company to create a band, named Big Time Rush. When my brother turned twenty-one, and I was fifteen, he became my legal guardian. My mother went back to our old home in Minnesota, and I chose to stay here. This is my home. This is where my friends live. This is where my brothers live.
But this is also where it happened.
I was fourteen years old when it happened. I was too young to understand the danger of what I put myself in, but old enough to know the name of this crime. At first, I didn't remember much of what happened, but whether that is because I chose to forget or not, I am unsure. The thing I do remember clearly is the bruises that I had to hide from my family, my friends, everyone. They never knew. I knew that I should have told them what happened, they might even have been able to help me, but I couldn't.
Every time I thought about it, I felt sick. Every time I looked in the mirror and saw the remnants of what happened, I wanted to die. I knew it wasn't my fault, somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew, but I felt broken. Dirty. I could barely muster the strength to admit to myself what happened, let alone tell someone else. Could you imagine the look on my four older brothers' faces if I told them what happened to me?
I thought if I ignored it, if I didn't even let the memories cross my mind, I could forget. I could erase it from my history, as if nothing ever happened. I was wrong.
My name is Katie Knight, and I remember the day that I found out I was pregnant.
Katie Knight sighed inwardly, closing her eyes slowly. Her breath came out in shaking gasps, and her hands shook as she slipped the cap into the plastic stick in her hand. A wave of nauseating terror overcame her, and she slid from her spot on the toilet seat to the floor beneath, her legs pressed against the cream colored rug. Resting her spine against the wooden cabinet under the sink, she let her head fall into her hands and her long, brown hair drape around her like a protective veil.
Through the door, she could hear the faint sounds of chatter, a sign that the boys had returned from the recording studio. She felt sick. Luckily, they didn't seem to notice that she was missing. No one ever noticed. Her stomach churned, and she felt her heart begin to pound as she remembered why she was hiding in the bathroom in the first place.
She'd slipped away early that morning, when the sun was just barely rising, to buy a pregnancy test from the grocery store down the street. As much as she had tried to play it off and deny it, she had to accept that something was wrong. She was three weeks late. She had to accept reality. The prospect of something that made her feel faint.
On the floor next to her lay the instruction pamphlet that she'd removed from the box along with the test. Below the instructions on how to take the test, the paper read wait three minutes in large, black letters. In just a few moments, she knew that her life could change forever.
She had never been particularly religious. She hadn't even thought about God in a long time. She couldn't remember the last time she had set foot in a church. But, in that moment, she prayed. Katie squeezed her eyes shut, her teeth biting into her lip until she tasted blood.
Please. She silently begged. Please protect me. Please. Please. Please. I have no reason to ask to be saved. I've never done anything worthy of protection. I've never done anything to deserve Your kindness. But please, I can't do this. I can't do this. I'm only fifteen.
Tears welled in her eyes, and she wiped them away with the back of her hand. She wasn't sure how long she sat on the floor, silently weeping, but she knew that more than three minutes had passed. She wasn't sure if she could find it in herself to stand up, her growing anxiety making her dizzy. Taking a deep breath, she reached for the test with shaking hands. Closing her eyes, begging, pleading, hoping, as she held the test in front of her. Part of her wanted to throw it away and pretend that nothing had ever happened. To stay ignorant. But she knew it wouldn't change what had happened. She couldn't hide from this.
Finally finding the courage after what could have been five heartbeats or five lifetimes, she opened her eyes. The test fell from her hand and clanged against the floor as she brought a hand to cover her mouth. The screen seemed to taunt her as she gazed at it through tear-filled eyes. A large plus sign stared up at her and she couldn't suppress the sob that escaped her mouth. Katie Knight, was pregnant.
She bit her tongue as she felt the urge to wail about what happened to her, but a part of her knew that no matter how loud she screamed, it wouldn't change the truth.
This was something she would have to face on her own.
"I remember sitting on the floor of that bathroom for a long time. My brothers never even noticed I was gone. Maybe they assumed I wasn't home. Maybe they didn't care. When things got quiet, I hid the pregnancy test in my shirt pocket and headed to my room. I hid the test underneath my mattress. I couldn't find the courage to throw it away. I was too afraid, too scared that someone would see it in the trash.
Things got worse after that. Since it happened, I had been distant. I'd been quiet. But I was a good actress. I pretended I was sick, and everyone believed me. I hid in my room for a week after it happened, until I could walk again and the bruises had faded enough to be hidden beneath my clothes. But after I found out I was pregnant, they noticed how silent I had become, how I never touched my food, and how I barely slept at all - but I didn't care.
After a few weeks, I really began to worry. The fact that I was pregnant was slowly beginning to sink. It made me sick to think that a part of the monster who hurt me was growing inside of me. Part of me hated it. Every time I let my hand fall to my stomach, I saw flashes what happened. I felt the pain all over again. However, a part of me, the greater part of me, felt a strange tug at my heart when I thought of my child. My child. My baby.
What was I going to do when I started to show What would the boys think? I could just see their disgusted and infuriated faces if I told them I was pregnant. Even worse, if I admitted what had happened. I decided against telling them. They would find out soon enough.
But the thing is, I never began to show.
My name is Katie Knight.
I was sixteen years old when I had the miscarriage."
It was late.
Katie lay in her bed, as she did most nights. She couldn't close her eyes without seeing it. Without feeling it. Behind her eyes she couldn't stop reliving it.
Ten weeks had passed since she discovered she was pregnant. Thankfully, her stomach grew slowly. She had done enough research to know that it would be some time before she began to show. She was young and small. But as the weeks progressed, she could see the changes. The way her clothes felt tighter. The way she had to carry her body differently. She didn't even go to the pool anymore - even though nobody would have noticed. She noticed, though, she noticed all of it.
Every time she thought of her baby, she felt an almost unbearable pain in her heart. She hated it, she hated this monster that was growing inside of her. It plagued her life, a remnant of the monster who had destroyed her. Before it happened, she had been lively, ambitious, and happy. She couldn't remember the last time she had smiled. She couldn't remember the last time she didn't feel hungry or tired or hurt.
Every time she thought of her baby, she felt an agony that seemed to coarse through her entire body. She loved it, she loved this child that she carried. Every time she felt as if she couldn't go on, she thought of what she would bring into the world. It would be part of her - every bit as ambitious, lively, and happy as she had once been. It was a feeling that almost made her smile, but she couldn't.
Tonight, she felt the pain of disdain in her heart. She wanted it to be over. She wanted nothing more than to be rid of this burden she carried.
Eventually she drifted off into sleep, her cheeks streaked with the tears she had wept. Like most nights, she dreamed of it. She dreamed of the attack. The assault that she had tried so hard to forget.
Her face was pressed into gravel, scraping her skin and mixing with the blood that seeped from her wounds. She screeched, trying to break free. Stabbing, unbearable pains coursed through her body. Her throat felt tight, as if she couldn't breathe. Her wrist throbbed, bent at an awkward angle. Her eyes stung with tears and blood and dirt.
She woke, gasping for air, but the pain didn't go away. Unbearable pain. Katie tried to sit up, groaning as a spasm tore through her body like thousands of knives at once. She could feel herself bleeding, and the pain only got worse when she moved. The agony blinded her to her surroundings, so much that when she tried to stand from her bed, her legs buckled beneath her and she fell to the ground.
Tears washed her cheeks and she fought to breathe, the pain coming in waves of agony that set her body on fire. With great effort, she dragged herself across the room to her bathroom. The light was already on - she couldn't sleep in pure darkness anymore. The light was blinding, and she screwed her eyes against it as she collapsed on the tile floor.
Blood covered her lower body and left streaks on the floor as she curled into a ball, desperately trying to ease the pain. Through the pain, she felt an overwhelming sense of fear. Briefly, she wondered if she was dying.
She had to do something. She dragged herself into a sitting position, her legs splayed out uselessly below her. She reached towards the counter above her head, gripping her fingers around a dirty towel that lay there. When she pulled it down, she froze when several things fell from the counter, crashing against the floor.
Shaking with pain, she held her breath. The towel fell from her hand as she felt her senses slowly beginning to ebb. Darkness was clouding around her vision, and she desperately tried to keep herself from fading away. The world seemed to spin around her.
Somewhere, on the edge of her senses, she heard someone calling her name. Kendall? She wasn't sure. The voice sounded muffled, and she was only aware of the white hot pain that shot through her body. She was vaguely aware of her bedroom door opening, and footsteps approaching.
Someone screamed. She wasn't sure who it was. She closed her eyes, letting herself succumb to the pain. She wanted it to be over. Maybe this was her end.
She was jerked back to consciousness as arms wrapped around her body. She opened her eyes, and thought she saw a familiar face. Green eyes stared back at her, horrified.
"Kendall?" She gasped as he lifted her from the floor. Blood stained his clothes. Was it hers?
If he responded, she never knew. The last thing she saw was the bright light of the inside of an ambulance, the shouting of the paramedics around her, and the patter of rain against the windows.
"I think I knew. That it was the end. I must have known. I was young, but I knew what a miscarriage was. But I was in denial.
I hated my baby, but I loved it too. I was afraid of the future. Afraid of what people would think, afraid of being a mother at such a young age. I hated it because it was the child of the monster who hurt me. I should have been happy that it was over. That I would never have to face the reality of motherhood. Of giving birth to a child I never asked for.
But I was heartbroken. When the doctors told me what happened… I felt more broken than I ever had. I never knew something could hurt more than what happened to me. I never knew that such a pain existed.
My child. My baby, was dead.
That is a pain I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy."
Katie felt as though she was underwater, struggling to breathe and to reach the surface. Her body felt as though it were floating, suspended beneath ice cold waves.
"Katie?"
The words were distant. She struggled against them. She wanted to stay here, beneath the waves. Apart from the world. Is this what it felt like to die?
"Katie, wake up."
She felt as though her head had broken the surface of the water, and she gasped for breath, desperately trying to fill her lungs with air. Her eyes flew open, and the world around her spun. Bright light hurt her eyes, and she was vaguely aware of a quiet beeping. A heart monitor?
When her eyes began to focus, she recognized a man standing beside her bed. He wore green scrubs, a stethoscope wrapped around his neck. His eyes were wide, and he had his hand on her arm. His touch felt warm, but for once she didn't flinch away. Her mind felt fuzzy. What was wrong with her?
"We gave you morphine for the pain." The man spoke as though he could read her thoughts. His voice was gentle, and the words echoed in her brain. "You might feel a bit foggy for a bit."
"What…" She croaked, her voice hoarse as thought it hadn't been used in days. "What happened?"
The man, a nurse she assumed, let his hand fall away from her arm. He carefully sat in a small chair beside her bed. Her eyes drifted around the room. It wasn't a proper hospital room - not like in the movies. She had been in an emergency room before, when she broke her leg when she was eight. Her bed was in a small, sectioned off area of the clinic. A curtain was drawn for privacy, and she could hear the quiet murmurings of other patients and nurses in other parts of the hospital.
"Katie, I need you to be strong." The nurse spoke, his gaze soft. "Did you know you were pregnant?"
Katie felt her breath catch in her throat. Her heart monitor skipped, and she felt the tears begin to form in her eyes. Blinking them away, she allowed herself to nod. "Y-yes." Her voice came out as a whisper.
The nurse nodded, a look of sympathy in his eyes. "You were thirteen weeks, correct?"
She nodded, but a knot began to form in her stomach. She didn't want to hear what he would say next. He kept referring to her pregnancy in the past tense. She didn't want to know why.
"Katie, I'm sorry." The nurse began, "But you had a miscarriage."
This time, she let the tears fall. Her skin felt hot, and her heart felt as though it was shattered into a million pieces. She shook her head, her eyes shut tight.
"I know it's hard to hear." The nurse reached out to her again, and she pulled her arm away. She let her hand rest against her stomach, covered by warm, white blankets. She didn't want to believe it.
"I'm so sorry." He sympathized, "It seems as though the miscarriage was caused by severe trauma to the cervix. We see this a lot in women who have been victims of sexual assault."
"No, no, no, no." Katie whispered, her words coming out between her sobs. "Please, stop."
The nurse nodded, pulling back from her. "I know this is hard for you. We can talk once you have had time to recover. In the meantime, your brother has been waiting for a few hours to see you. Would you like to see him?"
Katie nodded, bringing her hands to her face, trying to wipe away the tears. She had dreaded this moment for months. The moment Kendall would finally learn the truth. He would see her for what she was. A slut. A whore. But she didn't care. Maybe it was the morphine. Maybe it was the pain of losing her child that made this seem easier. Nothing could be worse than this. No ridicule, no confrontation, nothing.
She was vaguely aware of the nurse leaving, pulling the curtain aside as he stepped out of her room. A few moments later, she heard the sound of the curtain being drawn.
"Katie…"
She let her hands fall from her face, meeting her brother's eyes. He stepped into the room, his eyes full of so much anguish it made her heart ache.
"Kendall…" She whispered, feeling the lump in her stomach grow tighter, "I'm sorry."
Kendall shook his head and crossed the room to stand beside her bed. His eyes brimmed with tears, but he refused to let them fall. He knelt down beside her bed and gently reached for her hand. She let him, interlocking her fingers in his own.
"Katie, I'm sorry. I should have known…. I should have done something…" Kendall sobbed as he spoke, his voice full of guilt and regret.
"It wasn't your fault." Katie whispered.
Kendall leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tight against his chest. She shook, allowing herself to be enrobed in his grasp. For the first time in months, she felt safe. She felt like things might be okay.
"I'm so sorry." Kendall whispered in her ear.
Katie buried her face into his neck, letting the tears fall freely now. "I lost it, Kendall. I lost the baby."
Katie paused from her story, looking down at her hands. Months had passed since that night in the hospital, but her heart still pounded as she remembered the pain, the fear, and the heartbreak.
"Kendall was so kind to me. I never expected him to react like this. I expected him to hate me. I expected them all to hate me."
She took a deep breath, steadying her voice which had grown hoarse after telling her story. She closed her eyes, gaining the courage to say these next words. When she opened them again, she looked directly into the camera, her brown eyes sparkling with a quiet courage.
"My name is Katie Knight. I was fifteen when I was raped. Three weeks later, I learned that I was pregnant with my rapist's child. My name is Katie Knight. I was sixteen when I had a miscarriage.
That was six months ago. My name is Katie Knight. I'm sixteen years old, and I'm ready to tell my story."