Three months have passed since the rape incident. I could barely sleep, I would hear voices in my head and sometimes daydream about what had happened to me that night. I would find myself crying in the middle of the night, early in the morning or even during the day.
How could I not? My mother died when I was only a month old and my dad remarried when I was 7. I take my stepmom as my mother but she never dared looked at me like her own daughter.
She overheard a conversation I was having with the doctor and that's how she found out that I am both HIV POSITIVE and PREGNANT. She wanted to kick me out of the house. She said that I was going to infect her kids. Life had never been the same since I came back home. I told myself that no pain would ever compare to the pain I was experiencing while I was with Sizwe.
I was starting to lose weight but the greatest loss of it all was my life. I was losing my life. Even alcohol doesn't make me forget about all the shit I've been through.
What happened to me? Sizwe. Sizwe happened. I blame him for everything that happened in my life. I blame him for the rape, my HIV status and my pregnancy because if he never changed on me none of this would have happened.
I'm a useless human being with no purpose in life.
I looked at my tummy in despair. Who's child is this? Sizwe's? One of the rapists? Cause it's certainly not mine. I just hate it already. I tried to drink methylated spirit mixed with a newspaper, I tried to drink disprin with coke but the belly bump kept on growing.
What have I done to myself?