Hard hitting stuff. I've been thinking about my past lately, and it's killing me. When the thoughts get to hard for me to handle, I write about them. Enjoy!
Kathyrene
"We would like to bring CSI Sara Sidle up to the stand." Sara gracefully moves up to the stand.
"So, Ms. Sidle, witnesses say this case was very tough on you." Her eyes narrow a little. But then again, the murder of 10 year old Sophie Winck didn't have any of us in a good mood. Abused by her own father, and eventually beaten to death, the case was especially cruel.
"Any case involving children usually is." She replies, obviously trying to conceal anger.
"Objection, Your Honor. The defense isn't taking this anywhere," the prosecuting attorney said.
"Overruled," the judge said in a bored tone.
"Thank you, judge. Well, Ms. Sidle, we have witnesses saying you went outside for air in the middle of the case."
"The print dust was getting to me."
"Remember you are under oath, Ms. Sidle."
"I went outside to calm down."
"And why?"
"I…"
"Well, I think we know why Ms. Sidle was so upset." Her eyes widen as the defense pulls out a folder. "Ms. Sara Sidle was abused as a child." Audible gasps fill the courtroom as Sara's eyes fill with tears. She blinks them back as the gruesome images fill the screen. "When CSI Sidle was 6, she was brought in with stab wounds, her father claiming it was a kitchen accident. When she was 7, a doctor notice signs of rape and abuse. When Ms. Sidle was 8, she was brought in by her father with 9 broken bones. They were blamed on a fall but looked exactly like abuse. 3 concussions in one year when she was 9, attempted strangulation at 10, as well as a gunshot wound to the chest, not to mention the stab wounds found on her stomach and breasts. She was nearly beaten to death with a baseball bat. This continued until she was 13, gunshots, beatings, rape. Finally, a neighbor noticed her father throw her off a roof and CPS was called in. it was quickly discovered that her father ha caused everything, all the trips to the hospital. He was a single parent, sentenced to 5 years. He is currently out on parol." She sucks in her breath and hides her tears. Her friends are in the stands. Her coworkers. "Do you think it's possible that Ms. Sidle manipulated evidence so the father of Sophie looked guilty? After all, her own father abused her. CSI Sidle may just be trying to get some warped sense of justice. Defense rests it's case." Even the judge looks shocked.
"Case will continue tomorrow at 8am, I need some time to think about what has been said here today." Everyone begins to leave. She bolts out the door, ignoring the cries of "Sara!" that follow close on her heels. She reaches her car and leans against it sobbing. Every word that had been said was true. She feels the pain like her father is here again, raping her, beating her, calling her a slut. Her father always left her on the floor after he was done. He would wait until the school noticed her missing to take her to the hospital. She had to learn to treat herself. Put pressure on it, don't think, don't breathe and it will hurt less. She cries harder as footsteps approach the car. Looking up, she notices Greg Sanders, a tear running down his face.
"What? You feel sorry for me now? Now that you know what he did?" Her tears transform into anger. "You want to say you understand?" He pulls her into a hug, and for once in her life, she doesn't protest. She sobs into his chest.
"My father hit me too, Sara. I do understand." She pulls back a little. "Hit me, beat me, starved me, drowned me. You spend everyday of your life in fear, because one thing will set them off. You say something wrong, next thing you know, your on the floor." He lets a tear drip down his face. She wipes it away. "All I wanted was normal."
"Greg, can we go back to my place? We can walk from here." He nods, and they begin the short walk.
"He hated science. Once, I got an A+ in it. He pulled me out of school."
"He hated fear. You could never be scared, even when he threw you off the roof. Actually, I was thrown off the roof for being scared."
"What I hated most was being "the kid who's father beat him", you know?" She nods and opens the door. They go up to her floor and into her apartment.
"What I hate more is the scars. Everyday I wake up and see the bullet holes, stab wounds, stitches. It makes me feel ugly."
"Can I see them?" She lifts up her shirt, and he widens his eyes. 1, 2, 3, 4 bullet holes. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 ,11, 12 stab wounds.
"There are more. But there all in…places I don't want you to see." He can make out one that goes into her pants, and one that disappears into her bra and understands instantly.
"Can I see yours?" She asks. He begins to unbutton his shirt, and she sees an array of tiny white dots, obvious scars.
"Ugly, huh?"
"I've seen worse."
"Doubt it."
"You know the truly worst thing about it, Greg?"
"What?"
"It makes me feel like no one loves me, like no one can."
"Sara, that's not true."
"How do you know?"
"Because I love you. I always have, no matter what your past was like."
"I love you too, Greg Sanders." She leans in and kisses him, gently, tender. It's earth shattering for the both of them. For once in there life, they realize love does exist.