So many emotions tear at my heart and body every day.
No one can understand my pain, my suffering. Not even Simon.
They think they do but they don't. I hate how they act towards me.
Like I'm some kind of wild animal that needs to be approached calmly and carefully. Sometimes I want to tell them to stop staring and stop being quiet every time I enter a room.
I know they want to help me but they can't.
No one can. No amount of help can bring me what I want.
They don't know I softly cry my loss at night, outside by the river in the forest.
They will never know. I am filled with rage and loathing against the girls who beat me.
They think they taught me a lesson to stay away from Simon. They didn't think that they would teach me something else.
The pain and loss and grief of what I had but now lost, thanks to them.
No matter what anyone says or do, they can't reverse what happened They can't reverse the ache and loss and grief in my heart.
And no one will ever know.
Because I will not tell.
I can't tell.
And Simon. I hate how he can't even look at me because of what happened.
He doesn't even want to touch me. I'm overwhelmed by my anger and pain and I need this to stop.
The only person who can make me forget is Simon but he rejects me.
I understand but it doesn't help. When I kiss him, I think of what could've been, of what I could've had and my anger overtakes me and I bruise him.
I want to forget but I can't.
And I know I'm hurting everyone with my actions, especially Simon. His lips are bruised and swollen and red with my angry and cruel kiss from last night.
I want to kill, I want to scream, I want to rip something apart, I want my revenge.
I had to beg the doctor to not say anything. Whether it was pity or something else, I'll never know.
It was too late for anything.
I'll live with loss for the rest of my life.
It's better if no one knew what happened.
Especially Simon.
The girls did this but I'll go them. I want their blood on my hands. I want them to suffer. They made me lose the one important thing in my life that'll never come back no matter how much I want it to.
It will never come back to me.
Not by luck or miracle. My hands have crescent shaped scars in my palms from my nails digging into it constantly.
I can never forget. I suspected but I wasn't sure.
If I had known, I would've done what I could to stop it.
But I can't now.
It's too late.
I'm an open wound and no amount of help can close it. They're murderers.
That's what they are.
They took life from me.
They took my baby.
They killed my one month old baby when they beat me. They killed my baby that Simon placed in me.
And they'll never know.
Not the murderers or my friends or Simon.
Because I'll never tell.