The Cost of Silence

The Cost of Silence chapter 14

Authors Note: Hi there you guys!(: I'm sorry for putting this up here, and I’ll let you get on to reading the story in just a minute, but first, I just want to say a huge thank you to everyone who has ever voted on The Cost of Silence!!! Because of all of you guys, it has already hit 200 votes in the course of only one week! You guys are absolutely amazing, and I love each and every one of you!! Thanks tons, darlings! <3

Chapter 14

I had really been hoping that I would be able to go home, now, but unfortunately, I couldn't. Of course I couldn’t. Not yet, anyways. I still had to talk to the prosecuting attorney. The only thing I knew about this woman was that she was trying her hardest to put my father in jail. It wasn't going to be that hard to convince a jury, but the prosecuting attorney had to make sure it happened. That was her job.

I walked over to where my mother was. Miranda had dropped Stella off with her, so I didn't have to worry about that, thankfully. That was one less thing that I did have to worry about, and trust me, I had enough to worry about already. "Hey there honey," my mother said, sounding like she cared about me for once (I was really surprised, actually), "all you have to do is talk to the attorney. Then we can go home and get some rest."

I nodded, agreeing. "Alright," I said tiredly. I just wanted to get this done with so I could go home and fall asleep. It seemed like I hadn't been getting enough sleep lately, and I desperately wanted to change that. Besides, I would need to be rested for what was...going to be happening in the morning tomorrow.

A woman walked up to me, who I was assuming was the prosecuting attorney. "Hello Amy," she said, "my name is Caroline Dow. I'm the prosecuting attorney for your father’s case." She held her hand out to me. I might have changed a bit within the course of the past week, but I definitely still didn't do well with people, especially strangers, even if they were trying really hard to put my father in jail.

I just stared at her hand, not quite sure what it was that I was supposed to do with it, if anything at all. It was all pretty awkward for a moment, but then Caroline lowered her hand and wiped it on her skirt tactfully, as if that was what she had been planning on doing all along. Because of this little encounter, my mother shot me a look that I completely ignored, and I followed Caroline into yet another interview room (how many rooms like this were there in this police station?).

The room we had just entered looked the same as the one that I had been in with Officer Bentley, except for the fact that there was no tape recorder. I found that to be kind of odd. If we were going through all of this trouble to talk Caroline would probably need to remember what I was going to tell her, and I doubted that her memory was that good.

"Go ahead and have a seat," Caroline said politely. I did, and she sat down across from me. It was obvious that Caroline was really used to talking to kids, because she seemed totally comfortable, and did her best to make me feel that way too. I realized that it was her job to come to the police station every day, and talk to children about how their parents had molested them. That had to get toughf to do after a while. I really didn’t think I would be able to do it. But after some thought, because of that fact that I had personally been sexually abused, I thought about how that would actually make me be able to relate to the kids. It would make me almost perfect for the job.

 How are you feeling?" she asked, but not in a 'oh I'm so sorry' kind of way. It was more in a 'I want to know how you are' kind of way. It was nice.

I ignored the fact that Caroline had probably just realized that I had zoned out for a while. Instead of dwelling on that, I just shrugged and said "Fine. Tired." Caroline nodded understandingly. "I know how you feel," she said, "I just want to go home and sleep." She smiled at me. "So, let's go ahead and get this started then, okay?" Caroline pulled out a blank, yellow, lined  notepad. Great. I had known that this conversation would be recorded somehow. I didn't really mind, though. As long as it helped put my father in jail, I was okay with it.

"Amy, I need to know all those little facts and details about your life that most people don’t really know," Caroline explained, “anything and everything that I would be able to use against your father in court. Is there anything, anything at all, that you can think of?" I thought for a long minute. Yes, there were some things that I could think of. Plenty of things, honestly.

"Well," I said, taking a deep breath, getting ready to say things that I had thought that I would never say to anyone, much less someone I had just met, "my father had been emotionally abusing me for years, ever since I was a little girl. He would always be making sure that he was telling me that I was ruining our family,  that I was a 'little bitch' – that was his favorite thing to tell me that I was, stuff like that. Then, when I turned 12, his...'birthday present' – that’s what he called it...to me was....sexually abusing me. He did horrible things almost every day for three years, and he convinced me that it was all my fault. Everything that he had done to me, for three years, I had been convinced that I had deserved it, and that it was all my fault. And sometimes, I still think that it is. Especially because he ended up doing the same things that he did to me, to…Stella." I finished my little speech while simultaneously managing not to cry. I was honestly pretty proud of myself.

Caroline nodded and wrote what I said down. "Is there anything else? Anything at all?" she asked, trying not to pressure me. I nodded, and took an even deeper breath for this one. "When I was 13, my father had started telling me that if ever, ever told anyone, he would....kill me. When I was 14, he started telling me that he would kill Stella. Or take her away and never come back. He knew that threatening me with Stella, of all things, would keep me quiet, just in case I decided to talk, even with my own life on the line.”

I had honestly never told anyone that before. I had always been too scared too. That, and I didn’t really tell anyone anything nowadays. Mainly I had been so scared for Stella. I didn't want him to take her away. Stella was the only person in the whole wide world that I was sure that I loved, and there was no way I would let my father take her away from me. I couldn’t have let him do that, and I knew that if I had told, that he would. When I stopped talking altogether, my father had stopped threatening me with her. He knew that he didn’t need to, that I was far too depressed to talk. To anyone, about anything. No matter what. If only he had seen this coming.

Caroline wrote that down too, finally seeming satisfied that was all the information she needed from me, thankfully. I really didn't want to do any more talking. The notepad that had started out as blank now had pages filled with notes, and it was weird to think that those notes were actually all about me, my father, Stella, and what he did to ruin out lives.

"Thank you, Amy," she said, seeming grateful. I smiled. Caroline seemed sure that we would be able to convict my father. Actually, all of the police officers did too. I was glad. I hoped the bastard rotted in jail for the rest of his life.

Caroline and I walked out of the room together, but went our separate ways then. Caroline went to do work or something and I went over to my mother and Stella. They were talking to Miranda.

"Hi Amy," Miranda said when I walked up. My mother smiled at me. Stella, however, ignored me, because she was focused on trying to teach herself how to tie her own shoes, which was especially difficult for her to do with one arm still in a cast.

"Can we go home now?" I asked, eager to climb into my bed. My mother looked at Miranda and she nodded. "go ahead, we don't need you anymore today," she assured us. My mother thanked her and picked Stella up. We walked out to the car, and drove home in silence - Stella had falleb asleep as soon as she was set in her car seat.

When we got home, I practically ran to my bed. I was so tired that I was asleep before my head even hit the pillow.

Authors note:

I know, I know, I said that Amy would get her abortion in this chapter, but I had to get the conversation with the attorney in there, and it just didn't happen. Yet. I PROMISE that it will be in the next chapter. Okay? Okay.

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