I have never completely understood the reason why i have kept so many secrets
to myself. Hidden deep beneath my skin; so deep that it floats in the depths
of my heart. It has completely numbed me. My sins are tattooed on my arms, legs, and all over me. It may surprise you that I never show the pain but believe me when I say that it stabs at my conscience. You told me that you were allegedly raped and as gullible as I am, stupidly, I believed you. I did unmentionable things to get even. I was on the verge of hiring someone to kill the fucker. At the moment I was not thinking about the consequences. You said that he had planted his seed inside you. That you were so sure that you were fabricating one of him inside you. I lost it completely. I felt vulnerable and just plain useless. I can’t even go back to the moment to know what it felt like. The worst thing about your whole trauma was that it wasn’t true. I know it’s wrong to snooop but your diary was open.. Ironically to that same date, that summer, that moment. You willingly opened yourself, let him touch you. I disgustingly threw it away. I couldn’t believe that you would lie to me. That you would look me in the eye and tell me lies. Vulgar lies, lies that could have cost me my whole life. Lies that were just that, LIES. And to put the cherry on top of this whole letter. You, you, you are my sister.