Saving Sophia ✔️

e p i l o g u e

Anyways, it was Friday night, and I was standing along the fence with some friends, watching in admiration as he took the field by storm. It was the biggest game of the year, we were playing against our rivals, Presley Prep.

With just seconds to go, we were down by a field goal. The pressure was on, and just as Kyle went to dive for the winning touchdown, he was tackled; brought down by the biggest guy on the opposing team. He missed the ball, and instead he received a broken collar bone.

He was devastated. Not just because he lost the game, but he was out for the remainder of the season. He missed out on scout night, and never ended up getting the scholarship he was relying on.

That night, I watched as he left the locker room, completely distraught, and hiding the fact he was in pain. I walked up to him, and told him how much I admired him and the way he played. He scoffed at me, but I saw a different emotion in his eye. And it was that glimmer of interest that made me go back for more.

I began dressing a little more .. girly, to put it nicely. I started wearing tighter jeans, lower cut tops. I focused on making sure my hair was perfect and my make up was on point. I made sure to go out of my way to ensure being seen by him during the school day.

I went out of my way to change me.

And it worked! After two months of becoming a completely different person, a total stranger, he approached me. I flirted like crazy! You know, doing all the flirty things girls do. I bit my lip, I batted my lashes, I played with my hair. I hiked up my skirts.

But it worked.

He invited me over to his house to "study" one Saturday night. I wore the shortest skirt I owned and the lowest cut shirt I could find. I was just asking for what happened that night to happen. Ultimately, it was my own fault.

I should have known better.

He offered me some of his dad's top shelf whiskey. And even though it smelled like ass and burned like crazy the whole way down, I drank it like a pro.

He lead me upstairs, to his bedroom. He gently placed me on his bed. He kissed me like I had never been kissed before. Slow and attentive at first, and when he started going a little too low for my liking, I asked him to stop.

Of course, he tried smooth talking me at first. But I still had my morals and knew it wasn't right; I knew I wasn't ready yet. So I tried to sit up.

He pushed me down, grabbing my neck and telling me I wanted it; that I had been teasing him for months. I remember swallowing hard, my mouth was so dry, but he was right.

I had been teasing him. I had been showing him I wanted it.

But I didn't.

He held me down as he ripped off his shirt, along with mine. He grabbed the zipper on his jeans, pulling them off. He pushed my skirt up. And that's when I started to cry.

He saw. And he slapped me, telling me to shut up and take it like the slut I was. I cried even harder, begging him to stop.

He didn't.

He slapped me in the face, punched me on the cheek when I tried to get up. He strangled me by the neck to keep me from squirming too much. And finally, he had his way with me.

Your father is a rapist.

I didn't know I was pregnant until three months later. I had never mentioned a word of this to anyone. It was my secret to keep. But when I constantly was getting sick and barely wanting to eat, did my mother, your grandmother, take me to the doctor.

Even then I didn't say a word about what had happened that Saturday night. Not until the test came back positive.

I begged the nurse, and my mother, to not make me press charges. The sooner we forgot, the sooner we could move on.

The sooner I could move on; knowing full well my life would never be the same.

They obliged, after much fight, only if I promised to see a therapist.

And so I met Dr. Myles.

But between his advice, and the thought of becoming a mother, it didn't stop the darkness from taking over.

I tried to kill myself three times while pregnant with you. I know that sounds terrible, as if it were your fault. But please, don't for a second think it was your fault, or that I didn't want you.

I was being selfish, I'm the one who didn't want to live.

So they hospitalized me for 6 weeks. The first two were under complete suicide watch. Once released, I thought I would be fine; that I was all better.

I took a leave of absence from school, and continued online learning. Things were okay. Until I went into labor.

I had the perfect family picked out for you. But it was when I thought I was going to lose you, I backed out. They took you by emergency c-section. My umbilical cord was wrapped around your neck. It was as if you were completing what I failed at.

Hours later, they placed you in my arms. I was numb. That's when your grandmother's "significant other" took it upon him to adopt you.

Frank. I always hated that man, but he did take wonderful care of you. And I guess that's all that really mattered.

I was never one to lie. I may have kept my secrets, but I would never lie. And I could never lie to you, Sarah.

I attempted suicide 7 times in three months. I always failed, but it ultimately got me closer to my end goal each time.

And by the time this letter reaches you, I have reached my goal.

So, please, don't end up like me. Be strong. Seek help when you need it. Learn to love and forgive. Don't let any boy, anyBODY make you change the way you are. You are strong, you are brave, you are worth it. You are everything I was not. So never be ashamed that you were born into the wrong hands, but just know that these hands love you more than they loved them self. We all make sacrifices, and for you, I made the ultimate sacrifice.

I will always love you, even from above, protecting you from what I could never be saved from.

Love you always,
Sophia

Author's Note : be on the lookout for a sequel! It will dive a little deeper into what this book only scratched the surface of.

Through Sarah's Eyes

Thanks for reading! 🥰