I trusted no one yet I had to tell the story over and over again for four years. If someone were to ask me which of the four years was the hardest, I'd have to say the first and the last with days in between. Why? Well, let me tell you.
The first year of the 'out coming' was difficult. I can't begin to describe the horror I felt every time I had to tell 'the story'. But even that became just that.. a story! I feared every day going into the courtroom or therapy session that I would have to see her! I was more afraid of my bio mom when I was my stepdad! Even though they did the same thing to me, to us I hated her more. The first year was all about facts and getting the story out.
The years in between were full of court dates, lawyers, being drilled, and a lot of questions. Questions like...
"what's your name" or "where do you live" to the hard ones like...
"So how long was the abuse happening" or "Did you ever see them hurt your siblings?" or the worst one "What happened.. in detail"
I had to answer these questions in front of people in the courtroom, a judge, the lawyers, and even THEM! Yes, I had to answer these questions in front of my bio mom and stepdad. It was absolutely the worst experience of my life.
The last year of the 'out coming' was hard yet relieving. My bio mom kept playing the system. getting different lawyers once things got to 'real'. Every time she did that there was a hold on everything. The lawyer had to be updated etc. (I'm not really sure all the legal stuff here..) But it took a lot longer than it should have!
I remember one day our lawyer had asked us to write a letter to our bio mom and stepdad. They wanted us to tell them what we went through and what we felt like they deserved and if we wanted to read it in court. So I started to write. I wrote that letter 100 times or more. Trash bags full of crinkled tear filled the paper. I didn't finish writing it until almost a week to the court date.
Walking into the courtroom that day was the hardest thing I had ever had to do in that 4 years. I knew that finally, it was coming to an end. I knew all this shit was over. So my sister, brother, and I wrote letters. My foster mom at the time had read the other two letters as they weren't ready to. I wanted to read mine!
I got up and I started to read my letter. At first, I read in fear. No one knew what I had written. No One. As I started to read and progress down my letter I got sad. Sad for me, for my family, and for my siblings. As I started to read the end of the letter I turned from the judge right to my bio mom and dad. I looked at them as I read. I wanted them to know that they no longer controlled me. I was my own damn person and they could rot in hell! I starred at my bio mom down as I read the last of the letter. After I was done I thanked the judge for letting me read. I walked with my head held high as I sat back down in my seat two rows away from them.
We had a recess after that. Not a long one, or at least not long enough. When the courtroom was seated and the judge started to talk, that's when it happened. The news we had been waiting for. They were finally sentenced! My stepdad was sentenced right away. My bio mom had 2 weeks to report to the Jail facility as she had my two younger brothers at home at which she had to re-home.
But it was all over. Everything. All those times in front of a judge, or being taped/video. To all the times I told my side of the story. It was finally all over. I knew for at least 5 years I was going to be okay! I was finally free of fear from them.. but at that time there was one thing I hadn't realized.......
Although I was free of them ... I wasn't really free ...
No comments:
Post a Comment