I wanted to give my English writing a try, and see if it can measure up to something.
Title: Forgiveness
Characters: Olivia Benson / Serena Benson
Summary: It is odd how an event that doesn't even happen to you can shape the person you become. It wasn't her fault, she couldn't avoid it and she didn't even know of it; however, she had endured the consequences. But now it had been enough, she had to let it go.
FORGIVENESS
It is odd how an event that didn't even happen to you can affect you to the point of define who you are.
An event that marked the beginning of her existence, one of which she was not even aware of and was completely out of her control. An event she could not do anything about, but its effects were able to define the kind of life she would have, let it be for better or for worse. Tough times were predicted, along with a burden that anyone shouldn't have to handle.
That day she learned the truth about the circumstances of her birth was one of the most devastating she had experienced. She wasn't exactly a child anymore, so there was a lot of damage already done… that didn't mean they weren't shocking news. But she had lived in the dark long enough, she decided, and as she was granted permission to step out to the light, everything made sense, she finally understood, couldn't forget, couldn't accept it right away, but she had an answer that she could work with from that day on.
And though the truth was kind of liberating, there was no question about the harshness of the delivery method. It was Tuesday, that meant Vodka straight from the bottle was for dinner. And whether it was alcohol induced courage, or because of a little help from Monday Tequila; either way it didn't matter because that night she got an answer to a question she had been asking for years: "Why?" When she entered their little apartment and dropped her battered school bag next to the door, the first thing she noticed was the probably passed out figure on the couch. She was instantly frozen to the spot, held there by the cold unwavering stare directed at her. Her mother was so still that at first she thought she had finally drank herself to death, but after a moment notice she shifted and a flash of something came to her fixed eyes and with a voice laced with blame, anger and disgust she clearly enunciated: "You're here because I was raped".
There was no mistaking the bewilderment that sized the teenage girl.
Never before could she understand her mother's inability to love her. She couldn't understand why she blamed her for her sorry life, or why she took all her anger out on her, especially when she drank when she ended up covered in bruises the next day; couldn't understand why she learned not to be anywhere near home on her birthday and not to ever mention anything remotely related to her father. But what she understood the least was why she could detect fear in her mother's eyes every time she got angry for any reason. It was as if she thought that her daughter could hurt her just by looking at her. Those times her mother seemed so tiny, so vulnerable that she would feel bad if she went to vent her frustrations on her, so she usually left.
What the girl didn't know, and Serena wasn't brave enough to tell her that night, was that she had her father's eyes. That of out of everything she could get thanks to genetics, she had to inherit the only part that wasn't hidden by the rapist's mask. However she was a smart girl and when she came to think about it, it wasn't that hard to figure out. To her, it couldn't be more credible than logical; so she decided it had to be the truth. That's why she isn't someone who shows herself angry or mad; on the contrary, she is careful to keep the warmth and softness on her eyes at all times.
When she learned all of that, she couldn't bring herself to be mad at her mother, she couldn't blame her for how unfair she had been to her, neither could she face her or console her and tell her it wasn't her fault, that she didn't hate her. Because after the initial shock, all she could feel was a huge sadness and compassion for the woman who decided to have her, despite the circumstances. Those feelings overwhelmed her completely and took permanent residence in her heart.
It's been many years since then and her life has changed a lot. The little girl that sported inexplicable new bruises each week and learned to look after herself since she was a four-year-old didn't exist anymore. Obviously, the woman she had become wasn't too different. She was still strong, independent, stubborn and reserved, but now she didn't spend her nights in tears asking the shadows why she had to be so different from all the other kids. Actually now she didn't have time to even think of herself. She was a member of law enforcement now, a decorated detective at that. When she wasn't getting a statement, or questioning a suspect, or interviewing witnesses, or notifying families, or doing any other work-related activity, she found herself too damn tired to even consider thinking of the past; after all it was there where it all remained, in the past. However, it didn't mean she had forgotten, oh no, she could never be able to forget.
Right after she had learned the truth about herself, she felt guilty. For years, ignorance and incomprehension had built up a wall inside her that protected her of unfounded accusations that made her angry and fueled her endurance to countless beatings. But that night, some of what her mother told her reached the deepest parts of her soul and started to create cracks on that wall; now she finally understood why she was the reason of her mother's despair. And she felt ashamed and guilty for being angry at her. She had to do something to redeem herself, so a plan came up. She thought that if she devoted her life to help other women like her mother, other survivors, she could demonstrate that her life was worth living, that she could compensate her origin with a life purpose, that she could amend the mistake that was her existence. In her eyes, that was the way she could earn her place in the world. After all, she wasn't supposed to be born, it wasn't natural, and apparently, her mother thought so, too.
However, with every case she got to work on, a simple truth made itself clear: she wasn't alone in her sentiment. She met a lot of more unfortunate people than her mother, people who had experienced so much worse and whose memories haunted them every single day. They needed her, so she had to be strong for them and help them in every way she could. She never had trouble relating to them, understanding them and knowing what they needed from her. That's part of what made her a good detective. Besides, she had her colleagues who were more like her friends. They respected and admired her as a person, regardless of the tragedy that marked her. And for that she was grateful, even if she didn't say it a lot. They had become her family, the squad and her job was all that mattered now.
Despite everything, she felt grateful for the life she had: she was doing something of worth, she was good at it, and she could help others move on with their lives. Besides she had great friends who would be there whenever she needed it.
The events that littered her past, though painful, allowed her to grow up sensible and strong and fight against a dark part of the world that continues to be unknown for a lot of people; in short, made her the person she is now.
Now while reflecting on her childhood years a burning feeling took over her heart as her mind filled with memories of her mother; a feeling that so easily overrode the resentment that had ruled her for so long. She was able to finally forgive her mother for the damage she had caused her as a child and could honestly thank her for deciding to bring her to this world allowing her to experience the good and bad it has to offer; especially since she could have easily aborted her and save herself so much suffering.
Today, after so many years, she could sincerely believe what Serena told her once the hangover had passed and she became aware of the way she had released her pain the night before.
Right now, standing in front of her mother's grave, Olivia could feel the words "I love you" fill her soul completely. She could honestly say that despite everything her mother loved her from the very moment she lay eyes on her, as only a mother could love her child: fully and unconditionally.
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