The hate I had for myself was great. I hate to see myself in the mirror. I disgust myself because how do I explain this incidence to myself? I had myself to battle with. The hate now is not on the person who raped me. He was even the least of my problems.
I was just too gullible to be raped twice in two years. I hate to see myself in the mirror. I felt ugly and stupid. All I was seeing in the mirror was a stupid girl and nothing more. I was like that for months, and I didn't want to associate with anyone. I kept my distance from everyone as much as I could.
Four months after the incident, I was on my way to church when I saw him. He packed and said he wanted to give me a ride. I told him no, that I was fine, and he said I know you don't want me to have you once more, and I want to do that as much as I can. I burst into tears immediately because it reminded me of the first idiot.
I hated myself more, and I could only see myself as a subject of pleasure. The view of myself played in my head for months. I started feeling sick and discovered I was pregnant. I did know who to talk to, so I was taking on a lot of things. Both from what I heard from people and from what I was on Facebook. I don't want to have a child under any circumstances. Not even in this world of hate.
Keeping my distance from everyone didn't make them notice what was going on. I don't talk or play with my siblings, at least. One month after taking different things, I was lucky to have a miscarriage. It was so painful, and my sisters thought it was cramps. I had painkillers, and I felt much better. I bled for 2 weeks, and I was going lean. I had to result from some blood tonic we had at home; they didn't understand why. I only told them I wanted to add weight.
The blood stopped after 2 weeks, and my real journey began.
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