Page 43 of Don't Speak

CHAPTER FORTY

Fourteen years old

The last several months have been a nightmare.

After my mother picked me up and brought me home from the church retreat, it’s been a never-ending cycle of interviews and questions.

I was required to go downtown, where I sat in a room with a hidden camera and a detective asking me detailed personal questions about the abuse I endured.

I hated every bit of it. Then, I was required to sit in another room, with a camera positioned right on the desk with me in full view, and answer the same questions with another individual.

From there, I was asked to complete a polygraph test. I was asked the same questions AGAIN, this time hooked up for the detection of lies.

I passed the test without issue, and I had hoped that was it.

I was wrong.

We’ve been living with my grandparents for a few months now.

While I love my grandparents, I was sad to leave the school district I had attended the longest out of them all.

I am entering the 9th grade, so I’m sad that I won’t be with my friends from middle school.

I hate the new school here by my grandparents' house. I’m required to wear a uniform, and I think that’s just awful to do to a bunch of teenagers.

I miss my friends. One of my friends’ parents had offered for me to come and live with them so that I could attend the high school I was supposed to go to, but my mother said no.

I’m slowly beginning to feel like life is imploding on me.

I’m depressed, angry, and resentful. The only thing keeping me from completely losing my shit is my grandmother.

I love her beyond words. She is my rock, and I know it would disappoint her if I started making terrible decisions out of anger.

My mother walks into my room, a piece of paper in her hand.

“We need to talk,” she says seriously.

I put my Gameboy down and sit up.

“I just received a subpoena in the mail. This means that I will have to testify in court.”

“Okay. Well, I figured that would have to happen, anyway. Didn’t you?”

“I honestly hadn’t thought about it. But this is going to be a problem.”

“Why?” I ask cautiously.

“Do you remember that time you told me what was happening? The time we sat down at the table and had our discussion?”

I wince, nausea forming in my gut. How could I forget? It was one of the worst days of my life.

“Yeah. What about it?”

“Well, that’s going to come up in court. I’m sure he will tell them that you already told me and that I did nothing about it. I could go to jail, Nikki.”

Tears well in my eyes. Of course I don’t want her to go to jail. I still love her despite everything she’s done. And what would happen to me if she’s incarcerated? I swear this nightmare never ends.

“Well, maybe he won’t. I don’t know what you want me to do about that, Mom.”

“I do,” she says matter-of-factly. I feel a sudden sense of dread wash over me. I know whatever her suggestion is, I will suffer because of it.

“What do you want me to do?” I ask hesitantly.

“I want you to go back and lie. Tell them you made everything up. Tell them you were mad at him and wanted to get him in trouble. Anything. Just tell them it was all a lie.”

“Why would I do that? Why would you make me do that?” I choke out through sobs. The second the words left her mouth, the dam broke, pure disbelief that the woman who is supposed to love me the most on this Earth is deciding to betray me more than she already has.

“I can’t go to jail, Nikkibug. You don’t want me to go to jail, right? If you do this for me, I’ll let you go live with your friend for high school.”

My nickname feels bitter on her tongue, the word feeling tainted now. At this moment, I feel more alone than I’ve ever felt in my life. Words escape me. I feel sick. She’s using my love for her as a manipulation tactic and then sweetening it with the thing I want most right now.

“I can’t believe you’re asking me to do that.”

“I don’t have another choice.”

So what do I do? I do as she asks. Just like I’ve always done.

The good little daughter. I went back to the lawyer’s office and told him I lied about everything.

When he asked me why, on camera, I told him that I was mad at Sean for grounding me, for punishing me over things I disagreed with, and that I wanted to punish him.

Charges were dropped, and the investigation ceased.

They never questioned me after that, nor did they push any further, despite passing a polygraph test. I felt like a complete failure.

I felt like a disgrace to survivors. I just invalidated millions of women out there by choosing this route.

I did myself a disservice. I don’t even want to think about any other potential victims after this, and being the reason he was set free. I feel empty.

But I guess my mother is safe, and I get to live with my friend. I just don’t see how either of those things is supposed to make me happy when I feel utterly broken.