My Destiny Ch. 12

Dear Readers, Thank you for continuing Elizibeth's journey down a life path she chose, not one dictated by her parents and family tradition.

I will be introducing the insidious disease of PTSD in this chapter. It does not discriminate, and while first responders and our Defence Personnel are at high risk of being struck down by PTSD, anyone exposed to trauma in their lifetime can be affected. The symptoms change from person to person. However, one consistent thing is when the victim hits the wall or rock bottom, their world becomes very dark and difficult to navigate. Patience, support from family and friends, and medical intervention will help those affected find peace and reach the light at the end of the tunnel.

The crash Elizebeth experiences in this chapter is based on my real-life experience. I have not included all the details, just enough to expose the reader to the pain and perceived humiliation our service men and women and first responders can experience.

If your loved ones or friends are suffering, don't be afraid to ask if they are OK. If you can find the strength to ask this simple question, you might save the life of someone dear to you.

It was a lovely spring morning, the birds were out and the first blossoms perfumed the air with their fragrance. I shared the joy of the moment with Grandma Beth as we sat on the veranda swing of her home. Growing up, I loved my annual holidays with this magnificent woman. She has a brilliant sense of humour, a sharp wit and personal integrity I hoped one day to replicate. We marvelled at the birds and flowers that surrounded us and laughed at the small jokes we shared. It was so relaxing sitting with her, just enjoying the world go by, it was my safe happy place that I was always reluctant to leave.

How are you doing sweetheart? She asked, I'm OK, just a bit tired It's been a long few years and I guess life has just caught up with me. She seemed to ponder my response before asking, "When are you going to stop running from your past and let go of your guilt? You do know you have nothing to be ashamed of?" I gave my answer some thought before telling her my troubles are complex and go back a long way. She was always the straight shooter, something I am proud to have gotten from her, she told me it wasn't my fault. What my father did is his shame to own and live with, not mine, and don't worry, dear, he will be dealt with when he finally gets here.

When I asked how she found out, she smiled and avoided answering by asking another question. What is really bothering you, sweetheart? I stared out into the garden for a long time before I could provide an answer.

I am still determining my direction. My rush and need to be perfect in life have begun to confuse me; I have even forgotten how to love. After all these years of fighting, I no longer know what my destiny is supposed to look like.

She held me to her chest for a long time, when you forgive yourself, the rest will work itself out. As for your destiny, what your future looks like will depend wholly on your achievements and mistakes, nobody can take that from you. You have all the building blocks of life, how you put them together is up to you, how you put them together is your destiny.

Her words struck a chord in me, and I felt a little relief flow through my heart.

We sat for a long time just watching the world go by, I was enjoying the peace I always found when I spent time with my grandma. Eventually I broke our silence, asking if she would be OK with me staying for a while.

You do know you can't stay? You have to go back. I knew she was right, but I didn't want to let go of her. She leaned over and hugged me tight before kissing me on the cheek. She told me I was doing fine and destined for great things. She let go of my hand and told me it was time. Don't worry, dear; we will see you again. I was sad when I looked at her smile, but turned and walked down the stairs and into her garden.

The sound of beeping machines seemed to infest my brain as my dreams seemed to take form around me. At first I was able to recognise shadows moving around me. These shadows began to morph into people I knew. I made out my sister Julie and best friend Bella holding my hands. Both were smiling but their features looked haggard. I think I saw my mother sitting next to me, but when I saw what looked like my father, I began to panic. I tried to speak and move but could not do either. My limbs felt like they were made of cement, while my head seemed to have a rock concert going in full swing. I tried to sit up and escape my bonds when a lady dressed in white came to my side. My panic slowly subsided as I slipped back into my dream-filled darkness.

Each time I regained consciousness, I was able to focus more on my surreal surroundings. The incessant beeping was always there but so was Bella. Occasionally she was with people in medical scrubs and other times Julie and my parents were at her side.

At first, sheer panic and anxiety preceded my return to the safety of darkness and dreams. Time seemed irrelevant as I struggled to make sense of this strange reality. Eventually, I escaped my weird, drug-induced slumber and woke to the early morning sunlight filling my room. Bella was asleep in a chair while a nurse looked at the medical equipment beside my bed. She said hello when she noticed I was awake and asked if I would like a drink of water. My voice worked enough to give a weak yes in response to her question.

My brain seemed full of fog as I tried to make sense of my surroundings; the smells, medical machines, and even the clean sheets added to my confusion. I worked out that I was in a hospital, but how I got there remained a mystery. I last remember sitting in a truck heading to Ukraine's capital for a meeting. Then, a bright light seemed to hit me, and then nothing.

When the nurse brought me my water and helped me take a sip, she woke Bella and told me I was awake. Bella came to my side, kissed my forehead, and cried as she said welcome back. She let go of my hand just long enough to send a message to Julie and my parents. She cried for both of us as she held my hand as tight as she dared.

My first visitor was one of my doctors, who took his time examining my many injuries. I'm glad Bella was present, as his explanations and comments made little sense to my still-scrambled brain. After he left, Bella helped the nurse get me comfortable before she brought me up to date.

I was in a military hospital in Germany and had been in a coma for nearly two weeks. They were told the truck I was in had been attacked by a Russian drone despite it being correctly painted and identified as a United Nations vehicle. Out of all the occupants, I was the only one to make it this far; sitting right at the back behind all the equipment protected me from the worst. The initial blast ejected me from the truck before it ignited and exploded. I was lucky that there was a doctor in one of the other trucks, and he was able to stabilise me before I was flown to the hospital. Due to my injuries, the surgeons decided to transfer me to Germany, where I could receive more specialised care.

I had been in surgery a few times to set my broken legs, and due to internal damage and bleeding, the surgeons had also decided to remove my spleen, uterus and part of my bowel. The biggest worry has been the severity of my head and brain injuries; the doctors couldn't give a definitive prognosis until I regained consciousness.

Bella told me she sensed something was wrong when the news story first broke; however, when my boss and a chaplain arrived on the doorstep, the family's worlds fell apart. Initially, there was no news of survivors; it was horrible. Fortunately, your parents were staying with us, and your father took charge of the arrangements for us to get to your side. With the help of your work, we were on our way to Germany within a day of receiving the news.

Before she could go into any more details, Julie, Mum, and Father entered the room. Father hugged me first and kissed my cheek before trying to sound serious, "I told you to be careful, young lady." Mum and Julie were not as stand-offish; they hugged me and cried.

They all stayed with me until the end of visiting hours. I asked them to take Bella back to her bed and make sure she got a good night's sleep. When they all left for the evening, I felt very alone and lost; my emotions were overwhelmed, and I was on the verge of panic when my father returned and took a seat next to my bed. I took his hand; he felt warm to touch, and despite our past, I thought he could be part of my future.

Over the next couple of weeks, my strength returned, and I was eventually allowed out of bed for the occasional visit to the gardens and fresh air. On one of these visits, Bella arranged a picnic lunch for us. My father surprised me with Helena, Michael Jr, Margot and Kevin, who had finished their school year and had flown out to see me. Bella sat beside my mum, and Julie sat beside my father. At the same time, the kids took sides around me. It was a simple meal, but the company did wonders for my spirit and will to recover.

Each day that passed saw my physical injuries begin to mend, I knew it would be a long time before I could run a marathon again, but being able to get out of bed and move around by myself felt like a great start to my recovery. However, for all the progress I made for my physical health, my mental injury recovery seemed to stagnate. My nightmares had become a constant companion to the point that I became scared of falling asleep. This, along with my threadbare emotions and scattered thoughts, my anxiety and depression began to consume my being. I was a mess, yet I wasn't able to ask for help, so I just kept bottling it up and tried to hide my shame and perceived weakness.

The night the kids surprised me, Helena stayed after visiting hours to keep me company for a bit longer. This was the first time we have been alone since she found out that I was her birth mother. We talked about nothing in particular, a bit like the times before she found out the truth. We were relaxed and even able to smile at each other again. Helena was the first to broach the topic about her real relationship with me. It was obvious she had spent a lot of time with her conflicted thoughts about her parentage and my relationship with her parents. She told me she was not ready to call me mum yet, but if it were OK, she would like to drop the Aunty off and call me Beth for the time being. I hugged her and told her that would make me very happy. I promised that when she was ready I would tell her the whole story, no omissions and definitely no more lies.

My father interrupted us at that point, as he wanted to make sure Helena got back to her accommodation in one piece. My father kissed me on the forehead before giving Helena a quick hug. It might have been my imagination, but he seemed to be trying to be there for his family; just the thought made me happy.

After they left me for the evening, my nurse arrived with my dreaded sleep medication. The nurses were sympathetic and delayed the sedatives as long as possible, but despite my requests, they wouldn't skip their duty to follow the doctor's instructions. Most nights one of the nurses sat with me as the medication took effect. They knew I was suffering with my nightmares and tried their best to protect me from my demons where they could. Many a night, I woke screaming from my demons to find one of these angels holding my hand and wiping sweat from my face.

Eventually, my treating medical team agreed my recovery was on track and I was well enough to travel home. The trip logistics were hastened when my father called in a favour and arranged a charter trip from a company that specialises in medical evacuation flights. Julie and Bella accompanied me back to Australia while the kids travelled to the States with my parents. While I wanted them with me, Mum recognised I needed space to adjust. The day we left Germany started well before dawn and in my opinion was a fantastic mix of confusion and plans going amiss. I was sad to say goodbye to the nurses who had helped my recovery but excited to get home and start living again.

It was 25 years to the day that I first arrived in Brisbane that we touched down. Even though it was early morning, the sun was out and full of warmth. The ambulance crew noticed the look of pleasure on my face and gave me a few minutes to enjoy the Queensland warmth before I was lifted into the back of a medical transportation for the two-hour trip home, albeit via another hospital bed.

Fortunately, I only had to spend another week in hospital while my rehabilitation program and home care support plan were put into place. Recovery was my primary focus so I had no issues with any of the programs that were put in place for me. My mobility continued to improve to the point where I was able to stop using a wheelchair and get around with the assistance of crutches.

The excitement of going home kept me awake during my final night in hospital. This didn't worry me to much as I was still shit scared of sleep and dreaming. I had to wait for my doctor to sign my release documents, and of course he was running late, but when he arrived his insanely happy bedside manner made sure I couldn't stay angry for long.

Both Bella and Julie arrived mid-morning to get me home, they bought me one of my old track suits for my hospital escape. When I changed, the loss of weight and body condition became evident, my clothes just hung off my once athletic frame, which was a bit depressing, but just added to my drive to feel normal again.

The trip home was filled with trepidation and anxiety, I was aware of the stress I had put my family through, and I was scared of what my current reality was going to look like. Not only did I have my injuries to deal with but there was also my work and the challenges I needed to face. I had convinced myself I would be able to regain my fitness to again be field ready, however, my employment rehabilitation officer tried to keep my expectations neutral on that front.

My immediate challenge was my need for some personnel care and attention. I had lost a lot of weight, my hair was a mess, and my panties looked like they had a koala bear living in them, given the amount of hair I had grown during my time away. I just wanted a bath and time with a razor.

Julie ran the bath while Bella helped me get undressed. They had seen the damage to my body while I was in the hospital, but standing in front of them, my skinny battered body shocked them both into silence and tears. I hadn't really considered how badly damaged my body was while in hospital but now, standing naked in my own house, the gravity of what had happened started to become real. I had never been ashamed of my looks, but at that point I wanted to cover my scarred body in shame. The new scars overlapped the old ones in a crazed pattern only a madman could design. My once nimble and perfect body was stiff and swollen, and my usually manicured and kept features lay in disrepair.

They helped me settle into the tub, both shocked into silence, afraid to speak, though their tears gave away the emotional turmoil they were experiencing. Once I was comfortable, they left me to enjoy the heat on my aching joints and the aroma of my favourite bath oils. They had even put on a disc of my favourite music, which allowed my mind to drift back to better times when life was simple and free of nightmares.

I could have stayed in my little cocoon, but I called for Bella to help me stand and dry off when my aches returned as the water cooled. Sucking up my pride and embarrassment from asking for help was a tough pill to swallow, I had always been independent and asking for help was a foreign act. Even though Bella was a very close friend, having her assist me getting out of the tube and drying off filled me with shame.

As I was still dependent on crutches and in their absence, help to get around, Bella supported me as I made my way to my room, where I found a lovely dress laid out for me. This small gesture nearly overwhelmed me, but Bella hugged me and told me to get dressed and come out to help with dinner when I was ready. I don't know when I last wore a dress like an ordinary woman. Except for the infrequent formal occasions I was forced to attend, I usually wore practical clothes, such as pants, shirts, and boots. My practical dress code also included unflattering utilitarian underwear--nothing flattering or seductive like my old days.

I picked up the dress to feel the material when I noticed that underneath a matching bra and panty set, the white lace was gorgeous and sensual to the touch. This time, I did have a little cry. These two intelligent and beautiful women could read me like a book. They knew what I needed to recover and find my normal again.

I did my hair as best I could, deciding a trip to the hairdresser was in my immediate future before I joined the girls in the kitchen. Despite being continuously told to sit and watch, it was like old times. We joked and laughed until tears ran down our cheeks. Dinner though was a little more subdued. Our conversation took us down memory lane, and we finished with a toast to our absent friends and family.

I didn't last long before my energy levels dropped and I needed to get to bed. Both girls helped me change into some PJs and get comfortable before kissing me good night and leaving me to sleep.

My nightmares attacked my mind like a full-on assault that night. They were like some horror movie that just kept playing over and over. Sometime during the night, I felt an arm drape over my shoulder and hold me; it was different and warm, and as such, I didn't fight it, and it comforted my tortured mind.

I woke confused the following morning; it took me a moment to register that I was not alone. Bella and Julie had joined me during the night and held me as I slept. My movements woke both of them and instead of rolling away, they tightened their embrace. Bella and Julie looked worried, but I assured them I would be OK. I just needed a little time to adjust. From that night onwards, one of them slept in my bed to help protect me from my dreams. They never discussed it with me, which I didn't mind; I appreciated their concern.

I knew the defences I had built up over the years to keep the demons of my past in control were failing. I was like a caged animal trying to escape my invisible shackles. The worst part of my situation was that I knew I was spiralling out of control and there was nothing I could do to keep my collapse from happening. The tremors in my hands seemed to grow worse each day, and following my release from direct medical supervision, my sleep was getting worse.

Eventually Bella and Julie had to return to their jobs, leaving me alone with my anger and growing hate. I convinced them I would be OK and had their contacts should I need their help. While my nights were a living hell, being alone all day with my thoughts and emotions was a living nightmare. I was so angry all the time; I couldn't settle and always seemed to be pacing. I hated crowds but couldn't stand being "trapped" inside. Despite my weak attempts to hide my emotions, both Bella and Julie started to see through me.

They tried to talk to me, but I never let them into that part of my world. They kept trying, but I kept them at bay.

It all came to a head about a week before the kids were to return from my parents' place so they could start their University studies. I woke in my usual foul mood following another night of dreams. My head felt like it was going to explode, and I couldn't seem to control my hand tremors. Before they left for work, Julie, Bella, and I argued about something so minor I can't even remember what the topic was.

After they left for work, I decided it was time to sort out my belongings from the last trip. The bags had been recovered from the wrecked truck and had been delivered a few days earlier. It seemed to be a simple task that would fill a few hours of my time, what harm could there be?

I looked at the two large duffels and my well-worn backpack/camera bag and realised this summed up my material life for the last few years. My nomadic life helped me escape my past and responsibilities, but to see my whole life for the past few years condensed into a couple of duffels was a bit overwhelming.

I started with my backpack as it held my camera, laptop, and various hard drives. In essence, this grubby blood-stained bag held my memories and most valuable possessions. The last time I had held the bag was when the truck exploded. As I unpacked the bag and laid my belongings on the table in front of me, I couldn't keep my pent up emotions in check any longer. My laptop's screen was shattered, and my cherished camera was also a write-off, but at least my hard drives and camera cards survived unscathed. The loss of my camera hurt the most as it had been by my side since the first Christmas in Australia. It had been a gift from my loving godparents, I just couldn't believe it was gone.

The last pocket I checked held a leather pouch, no bigger than a small computer mouse. It was stained and worn from use, and the leather rubbed smooth in several places.

I held the pouch and stared at it for a very long time before my shaking fingers opened the zip and poured the contents into the palm of my hand. I stared at the stained necklace, which held a beautiful crucifix and a small blood-soaked package. I unwrapped the package and stared at its contents: a custom-made engagement ring. I held these precious belongings to my chest and collapsed to my knees, a crying mess. My resilience was gone and my fight for life was no longer present. I was lost, ashamed and alone. I had finally reached the end.

Bella came home at lunch to make sure I was OK, she must have sensed something was right, a feeling that was justified when she found me screaming and pawing at the gun-safe door, my fingers bloodied from my attempts to access the contents. Unbeknownst to me, they had changed the combination and key when I returned home, a move that probably saved my life.

I don't remember much about what happened that day. I vaguely remember lashing out at some police officers as I was being restrained but apart from that, my memories seemed to shut down.

..............................................................................

The snow fell as we sat on the porch swing, snuggled under a blanket, warming our bellies with hot cocoa. Justin held me as we watched the neighbour's dog and kids play in the fresh snow. Justin broke into my thoughts and asked me what had happened. His question confused me for a moment, and when I didn't answer, he asked me again.

I held them and told him I was lost and had no idea what to do to get out of my hole. I started to cry as my emotional dam broke.

We were silent for a long time before he asked me the last time I couldn't do something. He then told me I could get through my troubles, but it would take time and support from my loved ones.

He then told me he had wanted to ask me to marry him for so long but knew I had already given my heart to someone else. I looked at him, confused, and he smiled and said I had already found love; I just needed to take a step back in the right direction.

He kissed me, and we held each other long before I fell asleep in his arms.

....................................................................................

I spent the next six weeks in hospital, initially confined to the mental health security ward, before being transferred to a private room. I was heavily medicated at first while the doctors worked to get my emotions and mental state under control. Still, when I transferred out of the security ward, they eased off on the heavy drugs and started to return me to a more manageable life.

I was under the care of an older, rustic-looking psychiatrist who must have had the patience of Buddha. Doc Brown rode my emotional rollercoaster filled with anger, hate, shame, embarrassment and loss. He seemed to absorb everything I threw at him while maintaining his smile and never-ending patience. He made a habit of joining me for breakfast and shared the time with a cup of tea and the daily newspaper quiz and crossword. These brief encounters were always free of clinical talk and stress, however, every three days, he battled my demons in sessions that left me exhausted and mentally wrecked. He never pulled punches with his work, and many times, I could have attacked him as my rage and feelings flowed.

His patience, compassion, and some tough love were precisely what I needed and eventually even I noticed that some days were lighter than others. When I was deemed "safe" again, he even took me for walks in the hospital garden, where we chatted about life and stuff. It was a painful journey, one I hated with all my being, but one I was committed to seeing through to the end.

After one of our garden walks, he was called to the front desk and left me waiting by an old piano someone had donated to the ward. The keyboard was open, and I mindlessly started tapping out tunes I had not played since I was at high school over 20 years ago. My drug-addled brain seemed to clear while my fingers seemed to know what they were doing as they worked.

I rolled through a few tunes before taking on an old-fashioned fast Boogie Woogie beat. I was oblivious to my surroundings as I played; my mind was clear, and I felt the spark of happiness in my soul. When I finished, I jumped out of my skin with applause from quite a large crowd. That was when a miracle happened; I smiled.

My first time on the piano was the second special moment during my confinement. The first happened the day I was settled into my private room. I was a mess, crying and feeling very sorry for myself, when, out of nowhere, a German shepherd dog jumped onto my bed. He licked my face before lying on my chest and staring at me. He had the dopiest look I had ever seen on a dog or, for that matter, a human. He just gave me a warm, safe feeling.

We held each other for a while before an older lady and a nurse came into the room looking for him. "Justin, bloody hell, you are going to be the death of me", was the opening to the conversation. The lady introduced herself as Molly and, with the nurse, tried to get my new friend to leave me alone. I didn't help their efforts by keeping up my patting his head and telling them it was OK.

Although frustrated by Justin's disobedience, Molly smiled at the sight before her. We dismissed the nurse, and she sat beside the bed. She explained that Justin had permission to enter the ward to visit her husband, who was in palliative care down the hall. Typically, Justin was well-behaved, but today, he had become agitated and managed to escape her clutches and hide in my room. Molly was surprised that he ended up on my bed as he never went up to strangers by himself. He was as gentle as a lamb but protective of her family. We chatted for over an hour, all the while Justine snuggled and slept by my side. Our conversation eventually turned to Justin and his story. Molly told me her husband, a retired vet, had found him abandoned, tied to a tree with a length of barbed wire. He was on the verge of death when he was rescued, but he was a fighter and didn't give up. Since his rescue, he has always been Molly and her husband's shadow.

I asked about the name, and Molly said she had no idea where it came from, but it suited him.

After my first introduction, Justin became a regular visitor. He was gentle and I found out that it is impossible to be depressed with an 80 pound furry slobbering mass trying to take its place on your lap. He would first see his master before trotting down to my side. When I was depressed and blue, he always seemed to cuddle up to me, I guess, trying to protect me from the demons.

One day, Molly and her daughter Jenny came to my room with Justin on his lead. They had been crying but were trying to put on a solid front. Molly told me her husband had passed and was no longer in pain. I never met him, but I felt their loss and embraced them both as I gave my condolences. Jenny told me while they had a few months to prepare, it still hurt when he finally died. She then gave my broken mind one of the most magnificent gifts I could ever hope to receive. Her dad had asked them to give Justin to me after he passed as he knew Justin still had work to do. Molly was going to live with Jenny, and they didn't have room for "the dopy buggar", and knew he had already claimed me as his new friend. He told them it was the right thing to do, as Justin knew I needed his help.

The gift was overwhelming and generous. This wonderful family had given me a gift that went a long way to helping me recover. We all cried and held each other in a loving group hug. Of course, I accepted this life-changing gift; as Jenny said, he knew I was the human for him, and we would be perfect together. Before they left, Justin licked them both goodbye before getting comfortable on my bed.

Doc Brown didn't even bat an eyelid when I attended my session that day with Justin at my feet, which gave me a giggle at the man's patience.

When my parents arrived for a visit that afternoon, the look on my father's face was priceless. His whole life, dogs were simple tools designed to keep people like him safe, nothing more. So when my new friend jumped up on this very strict and uptight man and licked his face, you could have knocked him over with a straw. He had a carry-on about hair on his clothes and a dog smell, but they seemed to get on, which was lucky, as they needed to take him home as he wasn't allowed to stay overnight.

From then on, Julie or Bella dropped Justin off on their way to work, and my last visitor for the day took him home. I was told his antics created absolute chaos at home, especially the ongoing battle of wills that started between him and my father. For all the complaints from Dad, I laughed when I heard he got caught buying Justin a sausage roll on one of their regular early morning walks.

As I recovered, Bella and Helena spent most of their spare time with me. Many a night, one of them stayed with me as I fought my nightmares and demons. They both suffered from my angry outbursts, but their love and patience kept me as grounded as my worn-out mind would allow.

As the sun rose after one particular gruelling night, I woke to find my worn-out friend Bella holding my hand. Despite her exhaustion, she gave me a smile and tender kiss on my cheek to welcome me to a new day. It was one of my better days so I asked Bella if we could go for a walk outside to enjoy what I always thought was the best time of the day - early morning.

It didn't take long for Bella to get permission for us to go outside, she even arranged a hot mug of chocolate to ward off the early morning chill. Despite my ongoing struggles with touch and intimacy, I took her hand as we stepped out into the gardens and didn't let go as we walked in silence enjoying the peace and growing warmth. We found a seat amongst the blooming roses and sat to finish our drinks and hopefully talk.

I knew Bella was bothered by something, I had felt a negative vibe between us ever since my mind started to clear. I was worried she didn't want me in her life again, something I knew would rob me of my final grip on reality and strength to keep fighting for life.

I put my mug down, turned towards her and took her other hand in mine and asked her what was wrong. She stayed quiet. I could see she was in turmoil as she looked at me, tears in her eyes. She reached into her pocket and held out the ring and necklace I last held when I broke down all those weeks before.

I took these valuable pieces of my story from her shaking hands and held them tightly against my chest. I closed my eyes in fear that the story I needed to tell Bella would push her away and make her reject me as her friend and love. With a deep breath I shared the whole story, leaving nothing out. Everything from the details behind my original banishment from home to the minute I helped identify Dimitri, from his ring to the loss of Justin, I told her all the details about the rape, my fears for my loved ones and the reasoning behind my eventually pushing them away. I held her hands throughout, her grip gave me the strength to keep going.

When I finished my story, I was exhausted but strangely content as a weight seemed to lift from my shoulders. I took Bella into my arms and held her tight before I kissed her. It was gentle and had genuine love; Bella returned my kiss as she cried and held me tight against her chest. When I could speak, all I could say was,

"I am so sorry; I have loved you from the moment you stole my heart all those years again, and even if I can't repair the damage I have caused, I will always love you."

I then took Bella's hand and slipped the ring onto her finger. She tried to stop me, but I told her it was given to me in love. I could never wear it, but now I give it in love and know the right person now owns it. We kissed again and held each other as the early sun added to our warmth.

That was the moment the flame of my love re-ignited.

I was discharged from the hospital just before Christmas. While my mind was stable, my body was a mess. My hair looked like a mop, my skin pale, and even my pubic hair had run wild. But the most significant decline was my physical fitness. I had lost a lot of weight, and my muscles had not enjoyed my forced confinement. I was terrified to leave the hospital; it had become a haven for me; however, I also wanted to become "me" again, which meant continuing on my journey of discovery and recovery.

Bella and Helena collected me from the hospital and, to my absolute horror, took me to the main shopping centre instead of going home. My arguments fell on deaf ears as they took my hands and dragged me into the mall.

My first stop was the hairdressers for a complete tidy-up, which included removing all the extra hair that had overtaken my body. Bella and my daughter joined me in the makeover, even going through the hell of a full-body wax. I must admit the sounds of Helena yelping as she received her first-ever Brazilian was worth the anxiety and a good laugh.

Our next stop was to get the full pedicure and manicure before hitting the dress and lingerie shops. Helena drove me hard, not interested in my excuses to call it quits for the day. With Bella's guidance in the first couple of shops, she bought me a new summer dress, panties, bra, and comfortable slip-on shoes. Then, while I was getting changed, she bagged up the old tracksuit, undies and shoes I had worn from the hospital and dropped them into the nearest bin. When we finished, I was tired but happy. I also looked like a woman again, aged but still with a body people could find desirable.

A few nights after I returned home, Bella and Julie took Mum and Father for some final Christmas shopping, I wasn't up for the busy crowds, so I stayed home to keep Justin company. Helena stayed behind as well, I am sure, to keep an eye on me, but her company was appreciated.

It was a pleasant evening, so we sat out on the veranda and talked while watching the sunset. Helena had long forgiven Annie and me for what she saw as a lie to her and Michael Jr. about their birth. But I knew she still had a lot of questions to ask. I told her I would be honest when she was ready.

Her first comment surprised me: "Mum, you were my age when you fell pregnant. Why did you do it?" I loved that she called me mum, but it pulled at my heartstrings, reminding me of Annie and her love for the kids as they grew.

I told her that her mum and dad were not able to have children of their own, and because of the love they had given me, I offered to carry their children. It was my offer and one we made together. I conceived you naturally on my 18th birthday.

She went quiet briefly before whispering, "Were you and Mum lovers?"

"Yes, we were lovers for many years. We first slept together not long after a photo shoot I did with Bella, her mum and your mum. We all became lovers, along with your Aunty Julie, although Bella has always been my true love. I never realised it until recently, but I gave my heart to her when we first met."

Before she could ask her next question, I stood up, took her hand, and led her to my room. I asked her to have a seat while I unlocked the cupboard I had used for my toys, lingerie, and special photo albums. It was the first time in years I had looked inside; except for a bit of dust, everything was as I remembered it.

I selected two albums and my original journal and handed them to Helena. I told her this might help her understand before I told her I loved her dearly and left her in private. After an hour or so, I went to check on her. The albums lay on the bed, surrounded by some of my favourite lingerie sets and toys. It was apparent she had been crying as she read my journal.

I sat beside her, put my arm around her shoulder, and held her tight. Words were not necessary, but my love for her was. My journal contained my truth; I included all my stories, including the beating and rape by my father and my search for identity in Australia. At the time, it allowed me to clear my thoughts and consciousness; I never expected anyone else to read it.

When she looked at me, I saw her turmoil. She hoped I might say it was fiction, but she knew in her heart that I could never tell her that lie. She closed the book and put it on the bed beside her before embracing me tightly. Her next move surprised me; she leant up and kissed me on the lips. It was a gentle, loving kiss that lasted only a brief moment. She pulled back and looked into my eyes for a sign. I was shocked and confused, and despite how wrong it was, I pulled her close and kissed her with a passion I had long forgotten I possessed.

We made out for a few minutes before I broke the kiss. I looked Helena in the eyes and asked her, "Are you sure?" Her quiet yet firm response: " Yes, this is what I want. I need to feel your passion and love."

I kept eye contact with my beautiful daughter while I let my nervous fingers undo the buttons on her blouse. I then reached behind her to unclasp her lace pink bra to release her amazing breasts. She was a small B cup, her breast firm and her nipple erect. I rubbed the palm of my hands over her breast while I kissed her in a gentle but profound way. The sensation shocked her young body; she felt alive under my touch.

I knew this was her first time, and I didn't want to spoil her experience by being over-excited and losing control of my actions and feelings. My body was coming alive with emotions I had repressed for so many years. I felt in tune with my young lover.

I released our kiss, and before continuing my exploration of her young, flawless body, I quickly discarded my clothes and unzipped her skirt. Helena lifted her hips so I could discard this unwanted piece of clothing. She took the opportunity to wiggle into the centre of the bed to give us room to continue in comfort.

I was mesmerised as she lay on my bed, her jet black hair splayed seductively over the pillow and her shoulders, her firm breasts and tender nipples perfect in all proportions, her athletic body flawless. She only wore a pair of pink brief panties that did nothing to hide her saturated mound. She had slightly spread her thighs, inviting me to continue.

I rejoined her on the bed and started my erotic exploration of her body by kissing her very briefly on the lips, telling her to shut her eyes and relax. I shuffled away from her so my only body contact was with the fingers on one of my hands. I let them roam over her body with the gentlest touch I could muster. I avoided her nipples and still panty-covered crotch, dragging out her anticipation and sensory overload. Her body wiggled under my touch, and little moans escaped her lips.

After a while of this torture, I upped my game, starting with a very light and tender kiss on her lips before kissing my way down her body. Like me, her ear lobes were one of her secret spots that could send he over the edge, so I backed off when I saw her excitement bubble.

I kissed around each nipple before taking one into my mouth and nipping and flicking her erect nipple. This attention was enough to give her first mini orgasm. I gave her just enough time for it to ripple through her sensors and her body to come off the heat before I continued. I paid attention to her nipples and breasts for a little time, then moved down her body, kissing my way across her belly towards her very ready and waiting vagina.

Her smell was intoxicating, her panties saturated with her juices. I put a finger under each side of her nickers, and she raised her hips high enough for me to lower the material like I was unwrapping a gift. Her smooth pussy was perfect. Her lips were tight, and like her mother, her clit was huge and extended. Helena was so aroused its little pink head poked free of its hood. It stood erect with a slight curve upwards. It was beautiful.

My self-control was challenged by the sight of my gorgeous daughter naked, her sex near running with her juices, her light begging and moans for more. I kissed around her mound and let my fingers gently stroke her slit. This touch was enough for her to buck her hips, trying to push my fingers into her. She spread her legs further apart, which allowed me to change position and get comfortable between her thighs.

Her lips were saturated as I slipped a couple of fingers in to pull them apart, giving me unfettered access to her amazing sex. Helena gasped, still trying to keep control of her body as I lowered my mouth onto her and allowed my tongue to slide into her and savour her fantastic pussy.

I was so horny by this stage; my juices had saturated my pussy and thighs, but this time was not going to be about me; it was all about my amazing daughter.

I latched onto her clit, making her buck; her hands moved to the side of my head, and a loud moan escaped her body. She was so close, so hot and ready, that I let go. I used every trick I could muster to take her to the next level of erotic excitement. The more I licked her slit and flicked her clit, the wetter she became. She had pulled her legs in, raising her butt off the bed as her excitement grew, giving me a view of her tight virgin rosebud.

I let one finger slip into her tunnel before moving this lubricated digit to her anus, then pushed against the resistance until it slipped in. At the same time, I inserted two fingers into her incredibly tight pussy, all while my tongue and lips controlled her stimulated she-penis. This combination was the perfect storm to hit her body. It sent her off her climactic cliff with a scream. Her body bucked as she squirted her nectar into my mouth, the excess covering my face. Her hands grabbed my hair as she was torn between holding me in place and pulling me away as her body rolled from one peak to another.

Eventually, she pushed me away so she could try to regain her sensors. Her breathing was ragged as she calmed herself. I let her go, moved alongside her, and held her tight. My beautiful Helena was spent. Her head rested on my breasts, her eyes shut from her exhaustion, her arms around my waist.

Even though I had not reached my climax, I could not have been more content and satisfied than I was at that moment. For all the wrong of making love to my daughter, it felt so right. The flame of my passion and love had been restoked, and I felt a buzz of life caused through my being.

I lay there for a while, just holding Helena as she dozed, still recovering from our first climax together, when I felt the bed move behind me and a hand rest on my breast. I jumped at the touch, which disturbed Helena, who opened her eyes in shock. I rolled towards our visitor, expecting to see Bella; instead, I was looking into my mother's eyes.

She leaned forward and kissed me first before kissing Helena. She suggested we dress more appropriately, as the family was home and getting the shopping unpacked. She smiled as she left the room and said we should talk later.

To Be Continued.