Chapter Three:
"Tell me more," Elliot said. He was still having a difficult time comprehending how such a person could do something like that to their daughter, and how Olivia, after having endured all of this, could still be so kind and compassionate.
Flashback Begin
"Yes Mama," the girl said as her mother arrived home, once again drunk.
"Get me some dinner, bitch," the very drunk woman yelled at her child.
"Yes Mama," she responded, as she headed toward the kitchen to prepare a quick meal. Not even ten minutes later, she heard a yell.
"Bitch, I want my dinner," there was a slight pause before an even louder yell was heard, "Now!"
"Yes Mama, it's coming now," Olivia walked into the lounge carrying a tray balancing a bottle of vodka and a warm meal.
"Here's your dinner," she said as she placed the meal in front of her mother. "Goodnight Mama," she whispered gently.
At 2:30 in the morning, a loud yell awakened her. Realising that for once her mother was not beating her and it was not her own yells; Olivia quickly got up and followed the yells to her mother's bedroom. As she looked on in horror, her mother yelled and fought against an invisible attacker.
She knew what this was, it was the night she was conceived. The night her mother had been brutally attacked and raped. The night and the pain it caused, she drank about. The night that made her abuse Olivia. The night that her mother's world had come crashing down.
She felt horrible, like it was somehow her fault, like she should have prevented it. Like she was the cause of her pain, and what troubled her eight-year-old mind the most was that in a way it was. Olivia sunk to the floor, curled up in a light ball and cried.
Cried for the pain her mother had endured. Cried for the horrid memories that scarred her. Cried for the times that her mother couldn't forget. Cried for the hopelessness she felt that she couldn't help. Cried for the fact that she couldn't help. Cried for the fact that she caused her mother pain. Cried for the abuse her mother inflicted on her to forget and cried that she was the constant reminder of the horror her mother had experienced that night.
In a wave of final despair as she heard her mother's cries, she raced the bathroom and got one of the many blades her mother left lying around. Gripping it tightly, she slowly and methodically cit her wrist deeply, sighing as she felt the warm blood pour out of her.
A few minutes later, she passed out and was found lying in a pool of blood, by her mother angrily wondering where her breakfast was.
Flashback End
"That was the first time I ever tried, and the funniest part was that it wasn't even an attempt. I had no idea I could die from blood loss. After I learnt that, I stored it for future knowledge."
"Future knowledge?" he asked, tightening his grip on her once more.
"In case I wanted to end it again," she stated, shrugging her shoulders as though that was unimportant.
"Did that happen often?"
"Almost monthly for two years. After that I learned I couldn't do it."
"Do what?" he was almost afraid to ask.
"Bleed it out."
"Bleed what out?"
"Him," she stated harshly.
And then he understood. She had tried to bleed him out so that her mother wouldn't hurt to look at her. She had tried to rid herself of him so that she could be loved by her mother but she had learnt that no matter what she did, her mother would never be able to love her.
He hugged her tightly, glad that with all her attempts, she hadn't died.
"Tell me more," he requested gently, keeping his hold on her.
"Where do you want me to go from?" she asked, relieved that she had finally found someone to talk to about her past and her pain.
"After she found you."
"Well, when I woke up the next time, I had been in a hospital for two days and my mother had never visited. I woke up on the third day, and found myself face to face with the same officers that had come to the house the year before…"
Flashback Begin
"What happened, honey?" asked one of the officers.
"I tripped, cut myself," Olivia replied, avoiding the concerned gaze.
"How could you cut yourself with a blade if you tripped?"
"It must have been left out. I fell, cut my wrist. End of story," Olivia stated coldly before continuing, "Please go. I have to get out of here," she began pulling on the various tubes stuck in her body.
"Honey, you need to stay here. Just for another day then you can leave."
"What about my Mama?" she asked anxiously, "What happened to her?"
"Nothing, though she will be investigated for child abuse."
"Why? She didn't do anything," Olivia asked, terrified of the anger her mother would have at her if this was done.
"You said she left the blade out. It endangered your welfare."
"If I tell you what really happened, will you leave her alone?"
"Yes, depending on what you tell us."
"You can't do anything to Mama because I'll be all alone."
"What about your father?"
"I don't have one." She glared coldly.
Immediately, the officers assumed that the woman had slept with numerous men when drunk and had not known the identity of the man who had fathered her child.
Taking into account the officer's expressions, Olivia quickly stated, "It's not like that."
"Not like what?"
"She's not a slut."
The men looked astonished that an eight year old girl would know and speak such words. He then looked at her, clearly wanting an explanation.
"She was raped, I was born. I tried to get him out of my blood last night because then Mama would love me and not have nightmares any longer."
"Oh, honey," the officer reached forward to embrace her, but she flinched and cowered into the bed.
"What's wrong?"
"Don't touch me."
"Why not?" he asked cautiously.
"I don't like it."
"Did someone hurt you?"
"No," the little girl stated, a little to fast.
"Who hurt you?"
"No one, I hurt myself, no one else did."
Knowing that he would not get any more information out of Olivia, the officers left her alone.
Flashback End
"I got out of hospital the next day. I called Mom, she came and got me. First time she'd ever done that," Olivia snorted.
"What did she do when you got home?"
"Nothing. It surprised me, I fully expected a beating, instead, she tucked me in bed and made meals the following day. I was so amazed."
"Amazed? At what?"
"That she actually cared about me."
"Oh," was all he could think to say. Although he had a tough childhood with an abusive father, he had never doubted that he had been loved.
"Don't worry about it. I didn't really mind. That memory always brought me comfort when the beatings returned."
"She was never nice to you again?"
"Oh, she was, when I got sick. The cuts and bleeding didn't have any impact on her but the hypothermia and others did."
"Hypothermia?"
Olivia nodded but did not continue.
"What happened?"