I sat down that evening on the patio and opened the notebook, holding my pen ready, but nothing came. I stared, watching as the sun set.
I looked back at the empty page, noticing my hand shook.
How? How can I do this? Oh God, I need help. I can't. I can't do it.
I closed the notebook, trying to steady my nerves, and put my head in my hands, suppressing back the sudden rise of tears. How can I? Writing this would have me relive my memories, the trauma and fear from the orphanage. I couldn't.
... Help me.
Oh God, help me.
Slowly, I looked up at the notebook, the pen laying in my lap.
It's only words. Its only writing... It won't hurt me.
I picked the pen up quickly and pressed it to the first blank page, writing a heavy inked I, but that was where I stopped.
Oh, help me.
I swallowed, letting the pen rest against the page, the ink soaking into it.
I sat and I thought, letting the time pass away, unwillingly letting the memories surface.
The times I disobeyed, doing something wrong, not listening to their rules... Protecting myself.
Remembering those men that tried to touch me, those times Clara miraculously appeared and took my place so I wouldn't have to experiment what she had. Remembering as I cried and one man stroked my cheek, "you're so beautiful when you cry," he had said.
"Ugh!" I cried, lowering my head into my lap, letting the wave of heavy tears fall.
I wanted to hurt myself, hurt myself for crying, for everything, for who I was. I didn't deserve this. I was a mistake. I was an accident, something that wasn't supposed to happen. I stared at the pen, looking at its tip. I could drive it into my eye, straight into my brain.
Let it end.
With shaky hands, I lifted the pen.
I'm sorry.... I'm so sorry, Clara. Please forgive me... I have to. I have to.
I cried, raising the pen to the corner of my eye.
I have to. The only peace I will ever have.
"Violet!?" He grabbed my wrist and tore my hand away. Taking the pen from my clenched fingers and throwing it. "What-" he stopped and wrapped me in his arms. "Don't. Please don't."
"I have to!" I screamed, pushing him away. I didn't care if Sara hurt me.
I stood and ran from him. The ocean. Let me die. Just let me die.
He caught me quickly, lifting me off the ground and held me close.
"Let me, Dominic... Let me leave... I can't live anymore."
"No, Violet. I won't let you. You deserve everything. I won't let you do this to yourself."
I grabbed fistfuls of his shirt and cried into his shoulder.
"Please... I can't anymore."