My mother was scared.
I could just sense it. But she
wasn’t scared for me; she was scared for herself. She thought I was a liar. My grandmother thought I was a liar. I was sitting on the floor of her living room
with her and my mother on the couch, scolding me from above, sternly instructing
me to tell the truth. We were going to
court that day and I had clearly made a mess of my mother’s life. I needed to tell the truth and go back
home. My grandmother had always been
protective of my mother. She always
treated my mother like a child, which I now believe truly stunted my mother’s
emotional growth. When we arrived at the
courthouse, my social worker was there to greet me. The day was a blur of people and information
that I didn’t understand. My mother and
grandmother went into the courtroom, but I stayed in another room with my
social worker. She explained to me what
was happening in the other room. I don’t
remember what I felt for myself that day.
I was mostly worried about what would happen to my mom when Phil was
sent to the electric chair. I imagined
we would move back in with Grandma and life would slowly get back to what it
was before she chose to marry Phil. They
would have to forgive me eventually for causing all this trouble. I’m sure you realize Phil was not given the
death penalty for his crimes against me.
As I’ve said, I’m not going to get too descriptive in this venue, but
you can be certain ~ my little body and my mind suffered greatly at the hands
of this man. For these crimes, Phil was handed
two years probation. He and my mother
went home. I went to therapy.
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