He sexually abused her on Saturday, she told me on Sunday and on Wednesday
we were scheduled for CARES.
Monday and Tuesday
had been spent talking to my lawyer, the therapist and the detective. I
fell apart when I was alone; even if that meant just in the bathroom. I
smiled and tried to fake being okay in front of Ellie.
For Ellie's part, she
would not let me go anywhere without being next to me. If I got up to leave the room, just to change
the laundry, she’d ask, “where are you going?” and then she would follow. It was as if we had a bungee cord attached to
us and I couldn’t go farther than that bungee cord could pull. Of course, I understood it and I didn’t say
anything about it. I gave her lots of extra hugs and love. She would wait outside the restroom for
me. She would walk to the mailbox with
me. She was fearful that she had just
let a big secret out and I was now in danger.
I prayed with everything I was that this was not going to threaten
our plans. We were to leave for Hawaii on Thursday. It was a work trip, as usual. I assumed
it would turn into more of a getaway. She knew what to expect and was excited
to go. There was no better time to get away. The thought of having
an ocean in between us and him was currently the only thing getting me through.
Please, please, don't let the lawyer say that we can't go.
There was a lot of
talk about the CARES interview with my lawyer as well as the therapist. I
was told that they look to the "reporting" parent as someone who
might be telling their child to say something. This is absolutely insane
to me. I cannot fathom that people actually do this. The pain that
we had just been in for only 72 hours was something I had never imagined.
To think that ANYONE would do this by choice is beyond what my brain can
comprehend. Because, it just wouldn't end there. Your child would
have to endure so much more. I just didn't get it. I didn’t give it
a ton of thought, but purposefully didn’t tell Ellie about CARES until we
arrived at the facility.
I was shaking on
my way to the CARES appointment. My head just kept thinking,
"this really happened and she is going to have to talk about it to someone
other than me."
I was so sad.
My heart hurt.
My baby was about
to have to grow up so quickly.
I had been
practicing what I was going to say to Ellie all day. I didn't want to say
too much. But, I wanted her to know what was happening. I didn't
want to say too much because I didn't want the chance of the to say "her
mom led her this way...."
Right before we
went in, I sat in the car and I told her in order to get help, we have to tell
people what happened. So, just like she told me on Sunday, she was about to
tell nurses. I told her that she needed to tell the entire truth.
And that she would not be hurt by him. And neither would I. I
promised. I answered her barrage of questions to the best of my ability
but really didn’t know that much myself.
My main desire was for her to feel safe and know that this was a safe
place.
She asked if I
would be in the room with her and I told her that I would try to be, but I
wasn't sure.
I will be honest.
The way I was feeling right then, I didn't want to ever let her out of my
sight again. If I could, I would stay with her forever.
The way that CARES
worked was that they asked the parent back first and interviewed her/him and
then they took the child back (alone) and did a physical exam as well as an
interview. The interview is done in a room with a one way mirror. On the
other side was the detective. The child is informed of that. It was also
being videotaped so that Ellie would theoretically not have to tell
her story again. The child is informed of that as well.
I tried as hard as
I could to buck the system. I was not pleased with the idea of Ellie
being in a room alone having to tell her story. I just ached for her.
I wanted her to feel comfortable. My heart was so sad.
The interview with
me was easy, though I cried through the entire thing. This should not
surprise anyone. Who knew a person could have this many tears?
I went out to the
waiting room and there was Ellie, just fine. Watching a movie, being
watched by the CARES staff, having some goldfish, no issues. She asked if
I would come back and I told her that I couldn't. I told her to be strong
and she said she would be. I also took the chance to remind her she was
safe.
The tears flowed
as Ellie walked back. So strong, so tough.
I was trying to
imagine what was happening in the back as I sat in the front waiting room.
Mostly, I just wanted to throw up. Nauseous and tired. I
hadn't slept in days.
They finally got
me from the back and I was brought to the interview room. I saw Ellie and
was happy that she looked okay.
They explained
their findings.
They talked to
Ellie and they reported that she seemed nervous to talk about what had
happened. How could that be surprising? She was 6 years old. That is so
young. Who knows what all had happened to her. This was all she had
talked about thus far. She had been threatened by the man who abused her
that if she told, he would hurt her mother. And, now, she was talking to
2 strangers in a room about what had just happened, all while knowing that a
detective was on the other side of the mirror and she was being taped.
Damn straight she
was nervous. Of course she wasn't going to be "talkative."
Neither would I.
She did tell them
what happened. She told them in all the repulsive details that made tears
run down my face. Disgusting details that a 6 year old should not know.
Nothing, certainly, that she could have made up.
The issue came when
Ellie said the following words:
“I'm not sure if it was on purpose or not.”
When she was questioned further, she explained that they played
what he called the “tickle game”. She
thought this might have been a different form of that same game.
I don’t want to get graphic on here, so I will try to explain that
in no way could this have been any kind of game. And the thought of a grown man playing a “tickle
game” with a daughter he barely knows terrified the shit out of me even
more. (Mental note, dig into that
information deeper).
The 2 ladies escorted Ellie out and I, still a little, naïve,
figured, here is where it comes down to making things happen. At this point, the detective walked in the room. It was the first time I had met him face to
face.
“That was really painful to watch, I’m sorry you and your daughter
had to go through that,” he said.
“Thanks,” I said, tears filling up my eyes.
“So, as you might understand, I don’t have enough information to
go on to arrest him.”
No. I didn’t understand that. At what point was that said? What did I miss?
My daughter just explained in gory details what had happened and you can’t
arrest him? I was literally in shock and had to sit down.
“I don’t get it, I’m sorry.” I said.
“Ellie said it might have been an accident and that they were
playing a game. And we have that on tape. It will not hold up in court.”
Holy Shit. Yes, a game
called let me ruin your life. A game
called let me cut you with my fingernail in a place my finger should not
be. A game called oops, my clothes fell
off and oh… it’s the tickle game.
I was disgusted.
I said, “She is six. She is
scared. He threatened my life if she told.
That is a lot hanging over her head.
You can see the fear in her.”
“I agree with all of that, but the courts wouldn’t convict him
because of that. And, it is her word
against his. And, unfortunately, that is what we have for her testimony on
camera”
Jesus.
“It isn’t over,” he said, “that is the good thing.” (boy, was he
ever right). “Just because I can’t go
arrest him this minute doesn’t mean the case ends. I am going to go interview
him and ask to inspect his house. I won’t have a warrant, so he won’t have to
allow it. Depending on how that goes, I
might arrest him then. We will also get DHS involved”
I explained that we had plans to leave for Hawaii in the morning
and asked if there was any reason we needed to stay. He said no, go and get away, your little girl
needs it.
As I walked out of the room, I thought to myself, wow, our system is
really fucked up. You can’t believe a 6
year old because she is 6. And so, he
walks? I understand the need for CARES,
I believe it helps families cope after.
But I left disheartened.
Ellie left with a blanket and a couple stickers. And the first time asking:
“are they going to arrest
my dad?”
If I had a dime… maybe even a penny for the number of times she
has asked, and fairly so, I believe, I could buy another house.
A check in with the lawyer and an okay for Hawaii. Please paradise, allow us some time to
heal.
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