"Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls. The most massive characters are seared with scars." Khalil Gibran
My name is Elle Skyler Green. I was an ordinary girl once. I was born in the summer of 1992, June twenty fifth. My dream was to catch bad guys, some day meet a nice man, get house of my own, live out in the country and possibly have children.
My life was ordinary and not one to be noticed until my father was killed in a robbery at a gas station. A gas station for crying out loud! He started to sexualize me but I had reported it and was getting emaciation from my parents, after my father was killed, I had to refile, but I never got it. My mom and I moved to D.C and she found a boyfriend.
He seemed like a nice guy. Until one day he wasn't, he started raping me, three times a week. I filed again to live on my own; I was denied even though I made more than my mother, legally. I went down to the FBI office in Quantico to file a complaint. I ran into a young man that was heading into the office with several cups of coffee. He was about to drop one of the trays and I took it from him, "Let me help you," I said.
"Thank you," He replied.
"You're welcome," I said. "You're an FBI agent right?" I asked.
"Yeah," he replied. I had seen him coming in and out of this office.
"Could I talk to you about filing a compliant of sexual harassment; well I guess rape is the more appropriate term against somebody?" I asked.
"Are you telling me you've been raped?" he asked.
"Yeah, yeah I am," I said.
"Why did you come to me?" he asked.
"You're less threatening than the cops and I've tried to get emaciation but the courts have denied me several times. Plus I've already talked to the cops, they don't believe me because of whom I am accusing," I said.
"Why have you tried to get emaciation?" he asked as we walked through his office building into the elevator. I hated elevators, I got in and closed my eyes and tried not to scream. I concreted on my breathing so I wouldn't go into a panic attack.
"My dad started to sexualize me when I was ten, then when I was 11 he was killed in robbery at a gas station. About a year after that my mom and I moved here. She got a new boyfriend in about six months. He was nice at first, until he raped me, six months after I turned 15, I'm 19, soon to be 20, and it's been three times a week at least and I can't get anyone to believe me, not even the courts," I said.
"I'm really sorry about that, I'll help you but I'll need the rest of my team to help," he said.
"Thank you," I said. I didn't know how comfortable I would be with telling my story to the rest of his team. I had seen them around town, they were kind of intimidating. He on the other hand was not, so I felt safe. I had planned to run into him, I had watched him for a few days so that I could talk to him and him alone. "My name by the way is Elle Skyler Green. What's yours?" I asked.
"Dr. Spencer Reid," he replied as we reached his desk. I sat the coffee down. "Don't you have school today," he asked me.
"Spring break for the next two weeks, that is if I hadn't already graduated, and I took the week off of work to take care of what's going on at home so I don't have to run, and it's nice to meet you Doctor," I said.
"It's nice to meet you too," he said. Then everyone swarmed around his desk for coffee, not having noticed me yet they just excused themselves as they slid by me, probably assuming I was a friend of their colleague's.
After they were at their desks they looked back and saw me. This very young woman, 5'11 19 years old who barely weighed 100 pounds with shoulder length dark hair, hazel eyes that were almost a topaz-gold, a slight bronze tan, slight muscular and she was standing at their friend's desk who apparently had a hard time with women by the looks on the faces.
"We aren't together, he's helping me. Someone has committed a crime against me and he's the first person to believe me," I said.
"What kind of crime?" a very tall, extremely muscular, African American man asked.
"I'm sorry but right now I only feel comfortable discussing that with him. I don't know who to trust, and I won't trust until it has been earned," I replied.
"So you know him?" a woman with medium length black hair, average weight and height asked.
"No I just met him this morning. I just don't feel threatened by him; he's not very intimidating where I'm afraid to say I find all of you very intimidating. You're alpha personalities and he isn't, and I don't easily trust alphas anymore, they can dominate someone to their own benefit, no offense," I said.
"None taken," a man who was clearly older than the others in what I had heard referred to as the bullpen on TV shows came in. He was clean shaven and was wearing a button down shirt with dress pants, the causal kind. "My name is Jason Gideon, and this is Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, JJ, Aaron Hotchner and Penelope Garcia," he said. I waved staying silent. I was not going to talk to this many people.
"Reid explained that you came to him, you only have to talk to him if that's what you're comfortable with," Agent Hotchner said. I nodded. Dr. Reid led me to an interview room.
"You said that you moved here shortly after your father died and he was sexualizing you, do you have any evidence of that? I only ask because it was so long and he's dead." I pulled a file from my brief case and set on the table. "What's this?" he asked.
"Open it," I said. As he opened it and looked at the photos and the doctors' documentation of my injuries I said, "That's every mark that my father left on me, and this," I said pulling out another file, "is my mother's boyfriend's work. I've taken pictures, had doctors keep a very detailed record and give me a copy, I just want out of that house. I know that I'm only 19, but I make more than my mother does, legally, and I have finished high school. I'm looking at colleges."
"You graduated early?" he asked. I'm not totally sure where he came to that conclusion. But he was right; I could have if I wanted.
"Not exactly. I could have if I wanted but I slowed myself so that I was not as much of a target, did you?" I asked. I was wondering if he had graduated early.
"Yeah I was 12; I did not have a lot of fun," he said.
"Having been bullied all through school, I know exactly what you are talking about, people are cruel," I said.
"How did you manage?" he asked. I was pretty sure he was distracting me from what he was going to ask next, I wanted to be a profiler, I knew most of the tricks of the trade.
"The opposite of most people. My sole friend in the school was the quarter back, and no one messed with me unless they wanted a fight. Our friendship was symbiotic though, he offered me protection, I him helped pass his classes. My other friends went to a different school," I replied. My friends in the other schools were better off than I was, the school I went to had very poor education systems and high crime rates within the school and low graduation rates, but my mother was dirt poor and when she was in good health had worked 4 jobs to send me to school. After she got sick, it was me working several jobs to pay the bills and go to school and have clothes. I had worked about 6 jobs at once at most. I was explaining this to him.
"When did you move here?" asked.
"2003, late spring, almost summer," I replied. I remembered it was raining that day.
"How long after that did your mother get a boyfriend?" he asked.
"About six to eight months," I said. I had still some what been grieving for my dad. In a way it was a relief that he was gone because he could no longer hurt me, but he was my dad.
"When did he turn abusive?" Dr. Reid asked me.
"About three and half years to four years ago, I don't know if he ever took it out on my mom, if he did, he didn't leave any marks. Six months after I turned 15 is when the rape started, he was just hitting on me, hitting and making threats at first," I replied.
"Did she ever complain?"
"No but she was always a screamer," I said.
Dr. Reid looked confused, "Excuse me," he said.
"In bed when having sex when she becomes aroused or is pleasured she screams," I said.
"Oh," he said. "You explain things like this all the time I guess by the way did so patiently," he said.
"Yeah, I kinda do it all day long. I work at a psychiatric hospital in the summer. I had to once explain to a 28 year old man what an erection was. And he was not a patient there," I said.
"Okay, when did the abuse first start?" he asked. I shuddered.
"By whom?" I asked.
"Both," replied.
"My father started when I was eight. The boyfriend, after I turned 15, he said I was starting to become a woman, but wouldn't be one till someone broke me in and taught me my place. I want to be a profiler, so I know what kind of stuff gets said, I'm used to reading it, but it's different when you're in the middle of it, when you're the victim. It gives a whole new understanding to what the victims in the case you're studying are going through," I said.
"I'd imagine. I'm sorry to ask but we are going to need physical evidence, you need to get an exam done," he said. I laid a kit down on the table.
"I got it collected last night." I said. "I have a friend in the hospital who I have on call for this," I said.
"Until this case is closed do you have anyone you can stay with?" he asked.
"No, I don't have many friends, not the kind that would put themselves in harm's way to save one they care about. Most of my friends are back in Missouri. The only two friends I have that would be willing to help also have a family and I'm not willing to put their families in danger for my life, and I have nowhere where I won't be found," I said.
"My boss may not like this, but, you can come to me and I said that I would help," he said writing something down on a piece of paper. He slid it across the table to me, it was an address with a time, his I assume.
"I'll meet you there at six this evening," I said. As he was getting up I said, "Thank you."
I stayed at the FBI office a little longer answering questions. I gave them my cell, telling them I wasn't planning on going home, expect to get a duffle bag of clothes and I gave them my mother's address and the boyfriend's address and place of work and his contacts and my mom's. "If you need me just call me and could I please have all of your numbers so I know who's calling me, if I don't recognize the number, I won't answer," I said. They gave me their cards and I started putting numbers in. "Thank you," I said leaving. I was going to an internet café shop. I was going to apply to colleges here; I had more than enough and had scholarships.
I was ready, to disappear now that I had help. An hour till six I ran home and got my packed duffle bag of clothes then I went to a Chinese restaurant and got take out and then hopped on a metro ride to an apartment complex 30 minutes away. I was there 15 minutes early. I saw an old Volvo pull around back with a familiar figure in it. That must be him I thought. I stayed where I was at a bench just outside the doors. A few minutes later he came around to the front, "you're early Miss Green," he said.
"I could come back in a few minutes if it's too early, and please call me Elle Dr. Reid," I said.
"No it's not too early, call me Spencer," he said reaching for my bag and picking it up before I could.
"Thank you," I said shocked at his kindness. "I brought dinner," I said holding up the Chinese food. "I noticed the Chinese food cartons on your desk at the office," I said.
"Thank you," he said.
"You're welcome," I replied. We got into the apartment building and he got into the elevator and I hesitated.
"What is it?" he asked.
"Sorry, I don't like elevators. I was in an elevator accident when I was little and have disliked and distrusted them since. I'm working on that but I haven't gotten to getting into an elevator since, besides this morning and I was fighting a panic attack." Then he said some sort of stat as we were taking the stairs.
"Won't your parents worry if you don't come home?" Spencer asked over dinner.
"Not really, my dad's dead, he can't worry, my mom's a disorganized-paranoid schizophrenic who is unmediated, she won't even notice. She's barely able to do her job. I've sent someone from the hospital to check on her at every meal time to make sure she gets something to eat and gets a shower at bedtime. Her boyfriend will just want to know where his whore is, as he calls me, he won't be concerned for my safety in the least bit," I said.