Disturbed - Part 3

Dsturbed - Part 3
Current mood: depressed

I wonder if maybe I should be on meds. You see, every so often there comes a time in my life where the planets seem to align themselves with bad-joo-joo all at the same time, and I'm forced to deal with a multitude of fucked up situations, all at once. It's during these collosal bouts of misfortune, that I sometimes feels as though I'm going to go completely insane, get in my car, and drive for days on end...only to end up a-la "Brittney Spears - she of epic meltdowns" - at some truck stop motel in Albequerque...shaving my head, drinking myself into oblivion, and then calling someone to come and get me.

Okay, that's a little extreme. Everyone knows I'm too vain to ever shave my head during a meltdown...that goes way beyond what's acceptable-crazy.

But I've been in this jury trial for two weeks now....two weeks of having to hear some sleezebag defense attorney talk about how the police (and yours truly) have manipulated this little 8 year old girl into saying her step-dad sodomized her and forced her to orally copulate him mulitple times. Nevermind that there are 3 independent witnesses who observed the child giving him a BJ in a public parking lot. Nevermind that his DNA (via his semen) was found on the little girls pants - from where she spit it out after he tried to force her to swallow it. Nevermind the anal tearing and bruising to her poor little 8 year old body - that was discovered during her rape exam. Nevermind her consistent statements over the past year to authorities and children services....about what happened. Nevermind that.

This lowlife defense attorney sits there day in and day out, claiming that I have threatened this little girl with taking her out of her home and putting her in foster care - if she doesn't tell me these things about her step-dad. He chalks up the anal tearing and bruising to the notion that maybe she stuck her finger inside her own anus and scratched so hard that she ruptured her mucosal membrane. The semen on her pants? Well, they all live together....and aren't very tidy, so perhaps he and her mom used the little girls clothing as a wipe-rag after sex.

And while I hope that this defense sounds as ridiculous to the jury - as it does to me, to have to sit there, day in and day out, and quietly listen to my integrity and my moral ethics be so maligned and called into question - disgusts me. I suppose the worst part of this case isn't even the sexual abuse the little girl has had to endure...the worst part is the fact that her own mother is on the side of the perpetrator. So much so, that her children have been taken from her and placed with their grandparents - because she poses a risk to their emotional well being. The mother is just as sick and twisted as the molester himself, and has threatened to take the little girl away so she can't testify. She has also told the little girl that she is a liar, and a bitch, and that she needs to tell the jury that the sexual abuse never happened....so that daddy can come home.

This all played out in court the other day when the little girl was being questioned by the sleezeball defense attorney, and blurted out that she had made the whole story up, because the police told her to. She said that it never happened, that she doesn't know why she lied, that the police told her what to say. However, this testimony came on day two of her testimony, after she had already talked in detail about the abuse on day one. And after she had spent the entire morning with her mother.....

The poor little girl also said her mom told her she wants her daddy home. That she loves her mom. That she doesn't get to live with her mom anymore. Then, when the prosecution began their questions, I sat and watched as this poor little girl completely broke down, sobbing and so visibly upset that I couldnt' help but sit there at the counsel table and cry right along with her.

No. She didn't make it up. No, the police never told her what to say. Her step-dad did put his pee pee in her butt, and it hurt. And he made her put his private part in his mouth - several times - and told her to "suck it." To watch the expressions on this little girls face, as she alternated between the horror of having to relive what she had been through, and the guilt she must have been feeling over disapointing her mother by not lying about it, and then her expression as she looked at me - probably afraid that I too was going to be mad at her....was truly, and undoubtedly one of the most tragic things I have ever witnessed. Her face and her anguish will be forever embedded in my mind....and I wish I could erase it. As she came off the stand and grabbed my hand (as she has done every time she sees me), I walked her out of the courtroom and gave her a hug. I told her it would all be okay, that it was a tough day for her, that's it's okay to be sad and to cry about it, and that she did the best she could and that things were going to get better. And then as we walked outside, she saw her mother sitting there - and ran straight over to her and gave her a big hug. I know she was seeking her mothers love and approval. But I also know, that sadly, she will never get it.

Her step dad will probably be convicted, and is looking at a life sentence. Just like this little girl is going to be stuck with this mother, and her resentment of her, and her emotional abuse, for the rest of her life. I can make sure he never molests her again...but I can't do anything about the rest of her famly. And so, in my heart, I know this girl is lost.

In the midst of this jury trial, I had yesterday morning open to interview another little girl. This one is only 5. And she's beautiful, and sweet, and social, and smart - and just about one of the most adorable little girls I have ever spoken to. I sat behind the one way glass interview room, and monitored a forensic interview of the girl.....in which a forensic child phsychologist asked her open ended questions about her, and what she liked to do, and who she lived with, and her family.

It was an endearing interview to watch...children at that age are so precious. they have so little reference of truly negative images of the world. They know the difference between truths and lies, and they know that lies are bad. They are indeed pure in their thoughts and perceptions, and don't have the cognitive abilities to formulate complex lies, or stories. If they story-tell, their brains are not developed enough to recall the same stories without discrepencies. Therefore, it is almost impossible for a young child to consistently tell the same story - unless it
is an actual memory which they are recalling.

As the little girl talked about her dolls, and coloring, and what kind of games she played with her mommy...I sat there listening in, and smiling. She was just the cutest thing. But then she started to talk about her daddy. And that he had done "bad touching" to her. That 3 times he had spit on his fingers and touched her "cookie" (what she called her vagina). In her adorable, sweet little girl voice she said, "he put his finger in my cookie HARD - and it hurt - and I said "No Daddy - I don't like that" - but he did it anyway." She said her daddy told her not to tell her mommy, that he was the only one allowed to touch her cookie, but she told her mommy anyway. She said then her daddy lied to her mommy and said he didn't do it, but she told her mommy the truth. She said her daddy isn't her daddy anymore.

I was glad to be behind that one way glass, glad that the adorable little girl, with the cute high pitched little girl voice, who was busy coloring a picture while she matter-of-factly was talking about the disgusting things her daddy had done to her, couldn't see that I was crying.

I don't like the idea of psychotropic meds for depression, and I dont' like drinking myself into oblivion to forget that the world is full of monsters, so I guess the only thing to do is just wait this out. Hope that I get a break after this trial ends next week. Hope that there is some bright spot on the horizon. Hope that despite the overwhelming feelings and emotions I've been facing lately, I don't end up lost somewhere in Albequerque.

UPDATE: Hell yeah....2 days of jury deliberations and that bastard was found GUILTY of 6 of the 7 counts against him. 270 years to life.....sick fuck. Now if only he would drop dead quickly so my tax dollars don't have to pay for his incarceration. After all, 270 years is a LONG time....