6 Words. Now What?

“They hurt because of my daddy.”

Those words will forever ring in my head.  Those 6 words, when put together so horribly life changing.  And yet, of such little surprise.  And yet, hitting me like a ton of bricks. 

I wanted to weep for my little Ellie who had been through something I could only imagine and at the same time didn’t even want to start to.  Brave Ellie.  Stoic Ellie.  Wise beyond her years.  Such an old soul and leaving me wondering, were we just scratching the surface with those words. 

With everything that I was, I tried to remain calm.  I tried to show no emotion to those words that had just come out of her mouth. 

“What do you mean, E?”

“My daddy touched me.”

I could feel the HUGE swell of tears coming up and I knew that if she saw me cry, it would not be okay.  I could not break in front of her. I would bite right through my lip before that happened.  

“Come here, Ellie.” I gave her a huge hug and I could feel her finally let go.  Don’t do it, Amy, don’t do it.  I knew that if I started to cry, there would be no stopping.  She would get scared and maybe, just maybe that is what was keeping her silent.  “Sweetie, why didn’t you tell me last night?”

“He made me promise not to.” She said through her tears.  “He says he will hurt you if you found out.”

That fucking bastard. 

I have been taught not to toss the word hate around but boy, the hatred that I felt for this monster was out of control. 

My mind was racing.  I knew there was something I should do and there was some kind of protocol that I should probably be following, but I had no idea what it was.  I also knew that I needed to keep myself under control because I was about to crumble and my baby just became a goddamn statistic by a person who is suppose to love and care for her and keep her safe. 

Keep it together Emery, one thing at a time.

“Ellie, can you tell me exactly what he did to you?”

She shook her head no. 

“I can show you though.” She said as she wiped her tears and her bottom lip shook. Here she was, trying to brave for me... 

Jesus. 

She led me to the bedroom and had me lay down on the bed and there she showed me exactly what had happened. 

Tears ran down my face and I told her how wrong that was and how sorry I was.  It was not the time to ask if it had happened before, but there were so many questions I had. 

I wanted to make sure that she was okay.  I wanted her to know that he was wrong, not her.  She said she understood.  I explained that I needed to call some people because what he had done was very bad.  I needed to see what the right next move was because I wasn't sure.  

I asked her to lie in bed while I called my dad.  I was hoping he could guide me a little.  After all, aren't parents suppose to know what to do in situations like these? Wait a minute... crap! I was a parent! There went that idea. 

Unbeknownst to me, my parents were having a party, but thankfully, my dad did answer.  I gave him a brief overview and asked him what I needed to do next.  He said he would call my brother-in-law (at the time) who is a policeman and ask him and get right back to me. 

Within 5 minutes my phone rang again. RH said I needed to call the local cops and report it.  They may or may not come out and get a statement.  They would probably assign a detective to the case and he/she would take it from there. 

I checked on Ellie and went to work.

I called the non-emergency line and reported it.  The officer to whom I spoke asked if I wanted to do it over the phone or in person and I chose over the phone.  Enough trauma for a little girl in one day, we didn't need cop cars at our house too.  I told him what I knew, he told me a detective would get back to me that night and the detective would take it from there.

Now what?

Somehow, I had to go in and be a parent. 

Where is the fucking guidebook for this part?

I found Ellie lying in my bed doing nothing.  I asked if she wanted to talk about it.  She said no.  She knew I would get hurt by him if she did.  There was obviously huge fear.  (Mental note, call her therapist next time I get a minute).  Okay, let’s get our minds off it until the phone rings. 

We decided to start packing her suitcase for Hawaii.  Thinking of Hawaii, how could you not be happy?!. 

I got Ellie to bed early that night and the Detective called just after.  He was nice enough and asked the same exact  questions I had already answered.  The only new information was that he said I needed to get into see someone at CARES Northwest.  CARES is a medical program for the assessment of child abuse.  They do physical exams and interviews.  The Detective would be there for the interview – behind a one way glass – so, hopefully – Ellie wouldn’t have to tell her story more than once. 

As I hung up the phone, the reality of the day set in.  I crumbled.  How could someone do this? How could a dad do this to a daughter? How could someone do this? How? I was sick over it.  Literally sick. 

It was if I felt the entire weight of the world on me.  Every step was heavy.  

Sleep was not an option.  Instead, I watched as Ellie tossed and turned in her bed.  I wondered what else this precious little 6 year-old had endured.  So strong, this one.  Stronger than I could have ever been.   

Ah, the guilt, it was ridiculous. 

A silent promise to her that night. 

Though our fight might be long from over... 

I would never let her hurt her again.