Dark Secrets

From Eating to Panicking

I peer into her bright green glowing eyes dazed at the events that were taking place. She looked so familiar, that is, until I realized it was like gazing into a mirror. The image reflected me and this man. His dark brown hair as well as his many other features stood out through the darkness of the room we were in. I can now see my emerald eyes and his coffee brown hair. I blinked hard trying to wipe away the memories that were pushing its way through my head, into my eyes. My breathing is rapid, beating faster and faster until the room is all black. A pain strikes my back and my skull, but darkness remains.

I was ten at the time. That was the time when it was hard to keep the memories from flooding back. I kept myself in the dark, stopped talking, stopped eating. The pain was too real to keep inside. It was eating me alive and I knew that I needed to do something. It was also the time when I had numerous panic attacks that kept me from what used to be my normal routines. Now everything changed. My childhood fun was over and I had to face reality at the age of eight when this all started.

The memories were still clear as day.

It was a family get together and there were at least a dozen of huge people surrounding my tiny body. I looked up to meet a pair of brown cocoa eyes which looked my way but then quickly glanced away towards the food. There was also plenty of food that even elephants couldn't eat themselves. I reached my small hands to the grey granite island countertop where the food was spread across. My fingers landed on something rough and crumbly. I grasped and pulled my hand away and shoved what was in it in my mouth. Whatever it was, it was delicious.

Down the dimly lit hall away from the kitchen where I was standing in, the cocoa brown eyes from just a few minutes ago had met my eyes again, but this time the hands that belonged to the brown eyes were holding a plate of what looked to be crackers. They looked like what I had just felt and put in my watering mouth. My stomach growled in pain wanting more. It was controlling the movement to my legs because not even a second later I was headed towards the brown eyed man who turned the other way and out through the dark wooden side door.

Still following his lead, we halted right in front of an old abandoned house which seemed like it hadn't been touched in years. I was lost in stare of the ginormous rickety thing that stood in front me. Out of the corner of my eye was strange movement of the brown eyed man headed straight for the front door. Like before, I shadowed him until we were both inside the dark foyer of the house. I couldn't see any windows in sight. The only light I could see was coming from the michevious glimmer in the man's eyes.

Who was this man, this relative of mine?

I consistently saw him at our family events but had no clue to who he was. He seemed to be in his mid twenties, but I wasn't entirely sure.

We stood in silence face to face in the dark foyer, my face away from the door, when his arm extended towards mine until I felt the warmth of his hand on mine. I was hauled towards the stairs that was right behind him, and we continued on up each stair which creaked with every footstep. About thirty seconds later, we reached the top of the staircase and, once again, I was lugged into another dark room.

From that point on things got really hazy and my memories weren't as clear. All I could remember was watching us from afar as he made his way into me, groping me with his big strong hands. I winced every time he touched me and I couldn't help but scream until my lungs throbed from pain. The agony was too real.

I regained my sight coming back from that terrible memory that still haunts me.

When I was ten years old, only two years after this life trauma, I was still suffering through the panic attacks. That was until one day where I had my breaking point. It was three months after my tenth birthday and it started off as any normal day. I woke up around ten o'clock on a Saturday morning and ate my regular cereal and watched cartoons like I did every Saturday. My mom, still oblivious to the previous events in my life, sat on the navy blue couch right next to me and watched Tom and Jerry with me. My panic attacks were always only around a minute long and my mom has never been able to detect why they started, but I wasn't much of a concern to her. She had to deal with her own distress from losing her second daughter, my sister Jillian, at the age of two from an illness still yet to be determined because it was so rare.

This day, though, put me in the hospital where I was looked after every hour making sure I did no more harm to myself. A couple hours earlier, around noon I had tried to kill myself. The panic attacks took over my whole body and I was done and tired from the continuous suffering. My young mind knew too much on how to commit suicide, and the thoughts took over which lead to the actions that took place. I strolled through the halls of my house and towards the bathroom on the second floor of the house. Tears streamed down my face lost of color and I stretched my arm out to the cabinet full of orange bottles of pills. Pulling off the cap, I took one after another and let the cold water run down my throat until all ten of the pills sunk into my stomach. Ten minutes later, my mom found me passed out and I was rushed to the hospital.

From that point on I was different. I stopped having panic attacks because I knew that I needed to become a stronger person. My mission now was to find out who had done this to me and why.

I'm now fourteen just starting my freshman year of high school. For four years now I've been trying to find out answers to this haunting mystery. This man who once arrived at every family outing now has yet to show his face ever since that beautiful sunny summer day. To my success, I identified who this guy was. He is my older cousin, my dad's brother's son. One aspect I didn't like about my dad's family was that they were vulgar drunks and rarely did not ever get drunk. Drinking was the number one importance of their family which always disgusted me. I couldn't stand human beings who drank until they were completely wasted. Hopefully, I don't obtain the drinking from my dad's family. Luckily, alcohol hasn't interested me in the least.

Nervous, frightened, anxious, tense, worried. Those words were all things that came to mind on how I was feeling about this first day of high school. Middle school was a breeze for me. I stayed invisible, my wardrobe being completely filled with only the color black, investigating on more clues to find about the reasons of my past. Not once did I ever interact with another living person in that school. I was in no hurry of meeting new people or building new friendships, or any friendship really. Let's just say that I don't think that I ever had a friend in my entire life.

I've pretty much been my independent self since the day this all started.

*******************************************

But this is just the beginning of my story.

*******************************************

I'm going to be working a lot on this story, not so much my other one sorry. But I think this one can be really great except it's going to take a while to post each chapter so it may be one week or it can take up to three weeks. But since I'm busy with school and exams are coming up I won't have much time. And a lot's been going on... But I promise that I will make sure I put a lot of effort into each chapter making it as unique as possible.

~Kara