Nightmare (Revised)

The floor beneath me creaked as I made my way through the old, narrow hallways of the Orange County courthouse. Inhaling deeply, I reached up to run the back of my hand along my sweat drenched forehead. I couldn’t have prepared myself for this day. In all honestly, I didn’t even want to be here. And I wouldn’t be, if I didn’t have to share my story again. It was easier to tell when my family and friends weren’t present. I know what happened wasn’t my fault, but I was embarrassed. And quite frankly, it wasn’t something I ever wanted anyone to know about - not every detail of what happened anyway. Now I had no choice. I’m going to sit there right beside the judge, and tell everyone in the courtroom every last detail of what happened - of what they did to me.

As I entered the large courtroom, it became silent, and everyone turned to look at me. I scanned the room briefly before dropping my gaze to the floor.

Nearing the long brown table placed in front of the witness stand, I felt my lawyer place his hand tenderly on the small of my back. I inhaled deeply once more as I took my seat, picking up a small glass of water that had been placed for me. It wasn’t until I was holding the glass between my fingers that I realized I was shaking. I could only hope that no one noticed as I attempted to place the rim of the glass still against my lips without spilling it.

A loud squeak echoed throughout the room as a small wooden door opened to my left. I placed the newly empty glass onto the table before me as I watched two officers enter the room, standing on each side of the doorway, their arms placed firmly behind their backs. It wasn’t long before two more officers followed behind, a man in a bright orange suit which read ’ORANGE COUNTY JAIL’ in large, black lettering, placed between them. He glanced over at me, our eyes met briefly. It was at that point that I began to regret all of this.

I hastily turned toward my lawyer, wrapping my hand around his wrist. He looked down at me and by the expression on his face, I knew he could see the fear in my eyes. It wouldn’t have taken much for anyone in that room to realize that my heart was on the verge of leaping from my chest.

“I can’t do this,” I gasped quietly. I could feel the tears welding in my eyes.

He signed, furrowing his eyebrows in concerned as he leaned down to my level, placing his free hand soothingly against my shoulder, “we’ve talked about this Angel. You’re going to be okay,” he tried to assure me, but it wasn’t helping.

“He can’t hurt you anymore,” he began, gesturing at the woman behind me to pour me another glass of water, “and after today, he will never see the light of day again.”

Releasing his wrist, I lifted my hand to wipe away the water that had built in my eyes. I knew he was trying to comfort me, but it wasn’t working. It wasn’t easy being in the same room, just feet away from the man who’d hurt me. Not only physically, but mentally as well. No one seemed to understand the pain that he’d caused and if they did, they wouldn’t be forcing me to sit in the same room as him just to tell a room full of family, friends, and strangers my story. All the emotions I had endured those torturous nights were quickly returning, haunting me.

I picked up my glass once more, promptly downing it. The palms of my hands were drenched in sweat and I was trembling in my seat. I closed my eyes, repeating everything my counselor had told me over the past few months about what to do when this moment arrived. ’Don’t let him know you’re scared or hurt, you don’t want him to think he’s won,’ she had stated time and time again.

“All rise!” the bailiff shouted over the many voices that filled the room and everyone became silent.

Standing with the rest of the room, I kept my gaze on my glass of water. It wasn’t long and I heard the same man order the room to be seated. I slowly moved my fixed gaze to the judge, who was opening her binders, separating different pieces of papers around her, scanning over them. She cleared her throat, looking up. Her gaze instantly fixed on my lawyer and I.

It felt as though ice were pulsing through my veins when I was called to take the witness stand. My head spun as reality steadily sunk in. Somehow I managed to push myself to my feet, using the long brown table in front of me for support. Closing my eyes momentarily, I inhaled deeply through my nose and exhaled slowly through my mouth. It was something else my counselor had told me to do when things seemed too hard to handle. It was a type of coping technique. She had told me since day one that if I could survive what I had been through, than I could easily survive anything thrown at me after. I was a strong and brave woman, she often told me.

I stepped into the witness stand, glancing up at the judge as I took my seat. A small smile played at the corner of her lips and she gave me a quick reassuring nod. I inhaled deeply once more before I looked out over everyone in the court room. It seemed impossible to ignore the fact that the man who’d hurt me was sitting no more than ten feet away. I could feel his eyes piercing into me, burning through my flesh. I suddenly felt as though my stomach had tied itself into a knot.

A smirk was plastered proudly on his face and it was in that moment that I realized I was letting him win. He could sense my pain and it was exactly what he wanted.

The bailiff stepped before me, blocking my view from the rest of the room, before proceeding to ask, “do you solemnly swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?”

I nodded, my voice hardly audible as I answered, “yes.”

“You may proceed,” the bailiff stated as he turned toward my lawyer.

Gathering some papers together, my lawyer stood, making his way around the table toward me.

“Before we begin Angel, I would just like for you to conform that the dates of this crime took place in October of two thousand eleven, just weeks before your eighteenth birthday, which would have made you a minor by law in the state of California at the time being.”

“That is correct,” I answered, my gaze not breaking from his. I was doing all that I could to block out everyone else in the room. It was easier to speak and concentrate when I felt as though my lawyer was the only one present.

“Thank you,” he began, pausing to read over some of his notes, “I would like for you to start at the beginning of your day on October seventh, two thousand eleven and tell me again everything in which took place that day, up to the point of your abduction.”

I cleared my throat, scanning over the room quickly before beginning, “It started like any normal Friday would. I woke up, went downstairs and ate breakfast with my mother. Afterward, I brushed my teeth, fixed my makeup, threw on some clothes and caught the bus for school.” Taking a brief pause, I continued, "I arrived at school, went to all my classes, and then met up with my friends to walk home."

"Why is it that you didn't ride the bus home that evening?" my lawyer interrupted.

"I never take the bus home. My friends and I had met up every day after school that year to walk home together. My house was always last along the way. I only had to walk a couple streets alone."

"And between saying goodbye to Samantha...correct?" he paused and I nodded with a simple, "yes" before he continued, "and attempting to walk the rest of your way home alone, you were abducted?"

My throat suddenly became tight as everything began to reply in my mind like a scene stuck on repeat. Swallowing hard, I closed my eyes momentarily, "yes, that is correct."

"Okay," my lawyer nodded once, "how about we begin there, after you left Samantha. Tell me everything that happened. Try to remember as much detail as possible."