to sob as he carefully led me to the bed. He
sat down on the edge, steadying me in front of him. Tears rolled down his
cheeks as he gently ran his hands over the fresh bruises on my arms. His eyes
quickly darted to the faded one on my shoulder before he turned me around. I
heard him gasp and felt him touch the large bruise I knew went across my back. I
hung my head in shame. I don’t know how it ever got this far. What
happened to the girl I use to be?
He turned me to
face him. “Did he do this to you? Seth? I know he did,” Dad croaked out.
All I could do was
nod my head before leaning over and vomiting all over the floor. Mom pulled
herself together and ran out of the room. I wore only my bra and panties, so Dad
grabbed the comforter off my bed and wrapped it around me. He eased me onto the
bed and smoothed the hair from my face. Mom came back in and threw a towel down
to cover the vomit before sitting down beside me. With a wet rag in her shaking
hand, she wiped my face. I kept my eyes closed. I couldn’t bear to look either
of them in the eye. I didn’t want to see their anger directed at me for being
so stupid.
Dad leaned down and
spoke softly . “Open your eyes.” I did as I was told. “You did nothing
wrong, honey. This is not your fault. We aren’t mad at you. We are mad at him.”
I almost laughed at
his words. They had no idea of all the wrong I had done, how far gone I was
from the girl they raised. I looked over at Mom; she was weeping. My tears
already dry, the numbness settled in. Once again, I felt no emotion. My parents
didn’t speak as I lay there with my eyes closed. The only sound in the room,
besides our breathing, came from the crinkling of the comforter as Dad’s gentle
hand swirled over my back, as if he were trying to erase the bruise there. The
question of what all JT did during those four hours haunted me. The rape was
enough but as other frightening thoughts began to unfold in my mind, I knew I
had to stop them before they tore me apart.
I reached up,
pressing the heels of my hands into my eyes and screamed, trying to make it all
go away. Dad pried my hands away and began to pray over me. I listened to his
pleading for God to take away my pain. I wished I could pray too, but I just
didn’t have it in me anymore. After Dad’s prayer was finished, Mom reached over
and took my hurt hand and un-wrapped it. I noticed several cuts on my knuckles
but they weren’t very deep. She cleaned them before wrapping my hand in gauze.
I tensed as Dad settled closer and opened his mouth. I knew what was coming,
but I wasn’t ready for questions just yet.
“Katie, how long
has Seth been doing this to you?” he asked, his voice strained.
I didn’t answer. I
couldn’t. I simply stared at what was left of my mirror. It was in too many
pieces to be put back together, just like me.
“We need to take
pictures of what he did,” I heard Dad say as I closed my eyes, letting the
numbness find me again.
***
I woke up
screaming in the dark. JT had been chasing me with a knife as Seth stood by
laughing. I sat up gasping, unable to breathe or swallow. I began to choke and
grabbed at my throat. I could hear my parents screaming my name, but I couldn’t
focus on their voices. I was lost and fear consumed me. I felt like I was dying
as silent tears ran down my face. I couldn’t get a sound to escape my closed
throat. I thrashed against Dad, but he held me tight, keeping my hands away
from my neck. The feeling was pure torture, and it didn’t stop until I finally
passed out from exhaustion.
***
The next day, I
didn’t move or speak. I stayed in bed staring at the wall for hours on end. My
parents panicked and called the pediatrician. He recommended Dr. Baird, a
psychiatrist that specialized in children’s mental health. Mom made me an
appointment for that day and along with Dad, led me inside his office. Dr.
Baird looked nothing like I expected. Instead of the studious,
sat down on the edge, steadying me in front of him. Tears rolled down his
cheeks as he gently ran his hands over the fresh bruises on my arms. His eyes
quickly darted to the faded one on my shoulder before he turned me around. I
heard him gasp and felt him touch the large bruise I knew went across my back. I
hung my head in shame. I don’t know how it ever got this far. What
happened to the girl I use to be?
He turned me to
face him. “Did he do this to you? Seth? I know he did,” Dad croaked out.
All I could do was
nod my head before leaning over and vomiting all over the floor. Mom pulled
herself together and ran out of the room. I wore only my bra and panties, so Dad
grabbed the comforter off my bed and wrapped it around me. He eased me onto the
bed and smoothed the hair from my face. Mom came back in and threw a towel down
to cover the vomit before sitting down beside me. With a wet rag in her shaking
hand, she wiped my face. I kept my eyes closed. I couldn’t bear to look either
of them in the eye. I didn’t want to see their anger directed at me for being
so stupid.
Dad leaned down and
spoke softly . “Open your eyes.” I did as I was told. “You did nothing
wrong, honey. This is not your fault. We aren’t mad at you. We are mad at him.”
I almost laughed at
his words. They had no idea of all the wrong I had done, how far gone I was
from the girl they raised. I looked over at Mom; she was weeping. My tears
already dry, the numbness settled in. Once again, I felt no emotion. My parents
didn’t speak as I lay there with my eyes closed. The only sound in the room,
besides our breathing, came from the crinkling of the comforter as Dad’s gentle
hand swirled over my back, as if he were trying to erase the bruise there. The
question of what all JT did during those four hours haunted me. The rape was
enough but as other frightening thoughts began to unfold in my mind, I knew I
had to stop them before they tore me apart.
I reached up,
pressing the heels of my hands into my eyes and screamed, trying to make it all
go away. Dad pried my hands away and began to pray over me. I listened to his
pleading for God to take away my pain. I wished I could pray too, but I just
didn’t have it in me anymore. After Dad’s prayer was finished, Mom reached over
and took my hurt hand and un-wrapped it. I noticed several cuts on my knuckles
but they weren’t very deep. She cleaned them before wrapping my hand in gauze.
I tensed as Dad settled closer and opened his mouth. I knew what was coming,
but I wasn’t ready for questions just yet.
“Katie, how long
has Seth been doing this to you?” he asked, his voice strained.
I didn’t answer. I
couldn’t. I simply stared at what was left of my mirror. It was in too many
pieces to be put back together, just like me.
“We need to take
pictures of what he did,” I heard Dad say as I closed my eyes, letting the
numbness find me again.
***
I woke up
screaming in the dark. JT had been chasing me with a knife as Seth stood by
laughing. I sat up gasping, unable to breathe or swallow. I began to choke and
grabbed at my throat. I could hear my parents screaming my name, but I couldn’t
focus on their voices. I was lost and fear consumed me. I felt like I was dying
as silent tears ran down my face. I couldn’t get a sound to escape my closed
throat. I thrashed against Dad, but he held me tight, keeping my hands away
from my neck. The feeling was pure torture, and it didn’t stop until I finally
passed out from exhaustion.
***
The next day, I
didn’t move or speak. I stayed in bed staring at the wall for hours on end. My
parents panicked and called the pediatrician. He recommended Dr. Baird, a
psychiatrist that specialized in children’s mental health. Mom made me an
appointment for that day and along with Dad, led me inside his office. Dr.
Baird looked nothing like I expected. Instead of the studious,
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