CHAPTER 2

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Chapter Two: Breakfast
Cailah Knight

I briefed myself for a few minutes before finally working up the courage to open up the closet door once more. I stared at the duffle bag for a just as long then finally gave in and picked it up from the floor.

It was much lighter than I had expected; I guess the guilt alongside my nerves made me imagine it being much heavier. I was at the point where I couldn't turn back now. I hadn't slept all night because the voices were far too loud for me to ignore. Everything they said echoing and bouncing off of each other.

I needed out, after all these years; I just couldn't take it anymore.

They all started when I turned thirteen. We were in the computer lab at the teacher had given us free time to do whatever we pleased. Of course, as curious kids we proceeded to google the weirdest of things to have a laugh. I, ended up googling my name.

I knew who my parents were and the weight their names held. I was expecting if anything to many see a couple pictures taken from paparazzi when I was younger. At this point, my mom wasn't really into the spotlight; my dad was good at keeping a low profile as well, so I doubted there would be any new content.

To my surprise, I had opened up a whole can of worms that surprisingly answered so many questions that I had about myself.

I was young when my trauma happened but I always felt like there was always a big elephant in the room when it came to me. I always felt like they were waiting for something to happen, waiting for the ball to drop and for me to eventually realize what I had gone through.

My mom at the time, acted as if she had prepared a soft landing for when that time came. I believed we had been going to counselling as a family due to my father's old relationship with alcohol. Only to come and find out, that she was really trying to prepare me for when the time came.

The time I searched my name out curiosity and realized; it held weight on it's own and not only because of who my parents were. It held weight because of who my grandmother was, my brother's father, alongside the four men that were charged with sexual assault and given the minimum sentence for what they did to me.

The more I read into it was the more I began to feel myself decline, the more I began to put the pieces together. It made me realize why I had this unexplainable fear when it came to men, why I'd watch kids very closely when I saw them around a man, why my perception of fathers showing love to their daughters was jaded. For the longest time, I didn't even have the best relationship with mine. I would subconsciously never want to be around him when my mom wasn't there. Whenever uncle Levi came around I'd lock myself in my room... and at first they covered that up and made it seem like it was usual for a teen to behave this way; but I should've known.

I had been pushing away the faded memories. Something like that just never leaves you, no matter how hard someone may try to bury it.

In this case that someone was none other than; Jailah the fixer. She was there quick, fast and in a hurry, ready to try and fix it for me. Ready to fix something I wasn't ready to have fixed, I hadn't even had a chance to really settle with it before the excessive counselling began. That, alongside the constant prescription medication. The moment I would even stare off into the distance for too long; she was there shoving something down my throat or telling me to text my therapist.

At first, I wrestled with the idea of it just being a concerned, motherly reaction. However, once the over-pouring of gifts started; I had no choice but to label it as guilt. That was the moment where my mother and I's relationship took a turn for the worst.

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