Chapter 33

•Welcome to Emily's World•

September 20, 1992

Hey, My name is Emily Joyce and I'm 12 years old. I'm very happy that I got you as a gift for my birthday. My dad said I need to write about my younger self so when I grow up I will have written notes about my life as a child. I have named you Rose because I love flowers so much. I will be a florist when I grow up. I will name it after my name and I will sell a lot of beautiful flowers. My flowers will make a lot of people happy.

I will write again soon, Rose, dinner is served.

I was sitting on my bed after an exhausting day at work yet I had brought the diary that I've been keeping inside the drawer without even reading it. I read through my mom's diary guessing some words as her handwriting was at someplace ineligible. She wrote everything single thing about her, like where she lived, her street address, and even about the color of her bedroom walls.

It was like I was just getting to know my mom despite living with her until I was 9. As far as I've read in the diary, my mom was secretive and quite silly as she wrote about the trivial things that happened in her life like what she ate for dinner. She said that she wrote about that because she had nothing to write about.

Throughout her scribbled handwriting, I grew up and transformed with her as she wrote about more serious matters, like starting her own flower shop and even writing her opinion about the world. The way she thinks and looks at things changed just as the days went by. For example, in this entry below. I was very glad that my grandparents gave her this diary because if it wasn't for them, I would know nothing about my mom.

I flipped through the pages going on a trip throughout my mom's teenage years. She wrote about her crushes, being insecure about her body, about the teacher she hated at school, about wanting to join the cool kids. One entry made me laugh out loud.

August 15, 1996,

I only have 5days until my sweet sixteen birthday! I can't wait to invite all my friends, especially Adam. I really like him and I think he knows too. I want to confess my feelings on my birthday. I hope he really likes me back and even if he doesn't, I will not let his answer affect my birthday. After all, I am 16 now.

I went through the pages curious if he accepted her confession and how it went. It was like a movie for me and a pretty good one at that, I was using my imagination. I couldn't believe that Leo wasn't planning on giving this to me. This was what I really needed to know my mom like I really should and who my dad was.

I was very curious about who my dad was because my mom never tells me anything. She was always silent regarding my questions about my dad as I kept on asking her over and over again. Eventually, I stopped asking anything related to my dad because it was just hopeless.

My mom never talked about her families too. I never got to hear about her parents or siblings or where she used to live before she gave birth to me. I sometimes wonder if I was just living in a bubble my whole life. I still didn't understand why Leo was blowing things out of proportion regarding this diary. I didn't really understand what the warnings were about, maybe he was being paranoid.

I wanted to know about the man who killed my mom. I wondered if he was someone she used to know like a past lover, an ex-boyfriend. I heard him say that night that he has found her which meant that she has been hiding from him. Despite having work tomorrow and the time being near to midnight, I kept on reading hoping to unveil my mom's rather mysterious past.

August 20, 1996,

It's party time!!!! I am finally 16 and the party is a blast, I absolutely love what my parents did for me. I have invited Adam and he already has accepted. I can't wait till I get this over with. I am so nervous about confessing to him, I mean the guy is just drop-dead gorgeous. I am writing now because I wanted to tell you, Rose, that I'm sitting in my room super nervous about the outcome. I have told him to come to my room because I wanted to talk to him.

Somebody's here! Wish me luck!!

Even though this happened years ago, I wished her luck. I wished that Adam accepted her confession. I wished that Adam genuinely loved her back. I wished that Adam wouldn't break her heart. I wanted to wish more than this but my curiosity got the best of me and I turned yet another page.

August 20, 1996,

There was no confession, there was no Adam. He never showed up and instead it was a drunk Uncle Sam that came to my room. He cornered me and I had no place to go. He did things to me that no one should do to a person. I hated every second, every minute of it. I felt so used and worthless. I feel so dirty and no matter how many times I wash my body, his hands just don't go away. They're stuck in my mind and I can't fucking get rid of his drunk scent of me. I feel so disgusting! Dirty and filthy.

What am I going to do now? Rose, who am I going to tell now? He said if I breathe a word about this, he will slit my throat. I don't know what to do anymore, Rose. I am scared and I am afraid that he will return again. I cannot go through that pain again, I have no power to withstand his disgusting touches again. I have to leave home, go somewhere far where he won't find me and then I... I... don't know after that, Rose. I have to get the hell out of this place.

My sobs disturbed the silent night, this wasn't the confession I was waiting to read. This wasn't what I thought would happen when I read about her birthday. This wasn't something that anyone could think to happen in a million years. It was her uncle that did that to her! How could he have been a blessing to rape her when he was throughout her childhood seeing her grow up. Mentioning him so many times in her earlier entry, I almost mistook him for her dad. He was always there for her, but look at what he did to her the second he found her in a closed room!

I cried for the pain my mom had to go through because of fleeting arousal and for the truth I had yet to endure. My tears fell on the worn-out diary pages that sucked up my tears like the Sahara would the rain. What happened to my mom wasn't something that should have happened to anyone but it did to my mom. Just because he couldn't control his feelings, my mom went through so much pain. She moved away from her family, left everything she was ever familiar with, and gave birth to a child that would remind her of her disturbing past every single second.

She gave birth to me, her rapist's daughter.