Disclaimer: As I have previously stated, I do NOT own the 16th precinct or any SVU characters. I do own Rochelle, any poetry that turns up, and the story in general. Copyright Druscilla Ryan Mortenson, 2005.
Author's Note: Thanks for your reviews. Shorty, here are some flashbacks for you.
The song "Me and Emily" is the property of Rachel Proctor.
Rating: PG-13
ROCHELLE'S FILE
Chapter Six: Closed Eyes
"Rochelle, I want you upstairs." Elliot said, drying his daughter's tears with the pad of his thumb. "I don't want you down here when he comes in."
"I have to be." Rochelle said, taking a deep breath. "I'm always outside waiting. If I'm not he'll know something's up."
"No." Elliot shook his head. "I'll tell him you're doing your hair or something. I don't want you to have to see him." He kissed her forehead. "Upstairs, angel."
Rochelle shook her head. "Daddy, I have to do this." she whispered. "I need to do this. For me. I have to know what I'm doing."
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I can't look at him. I keep my eyes closed, the salt from my tears burns the inside of my eyes. I can't face him, what's happening. It's been happening for so long, pretending I'm invisible just makes it all go away. Except for the pain, the numbing pain. How old was I when he took my innocence, my purity, my virginity? How old was I when I became a woman?
A sob tears from my throat. I was five. I was five years old when I became a woman. I was practically born a whore. "Get off of me!" I scream, shoving furiously at the man who is my father. "Get the fuck away from me!"
He slaps me. There's blood as he strikes me repeatedly. "You fucking prick!" I scream. Why now? Why did I break now? What the hell is possessing me?
My eyes are still closed.
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"Honey, you're turning Mark in for hitting and raping you." Elliot said gently, rubbing her shoulders.
Rochelle shook her head. "When my dad . . ." She paused, looking at each person in the room one by one. She trusted them all. Then why was this so hard. "When my dad raped me that night . . . when everyone else was there . . . I kept my eyes closed. I fought, but my eyes were closed, Daddy! I couldn't see what I was doing, if it made a difference. I don't know what it means . . ." Rochelle took a deep breath. "I don't know why this matters so much, Daddy, I just know that I need to do it."
Elliot sighed. "How are you going to get him to come in, Chelle?"
"I'll tell him that you want to talk to him about the dance." Rochelle said. "He won't hit me with so many people around, Daddy. I know him."
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I know there were seven. I can't remember how many times they fucked me. I sit up as I hear footsteps outside my door. It opens. Momma.
"You slut!" she says, her face hideous. "Fucking your own father and brother! I ought to kill you with my bare hands! Get out of my house!" she screams. "Now!"
I grab the things closest to me: my journal, two pairs of underwear, a bra, and a pair of jeans. I can't even remember being so happy . . . or so broken.
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"Hey." Rochelle ran up to her boyfriend and kissed him. "My dad wants to talk to you before we go, okay? It's about the dance."
"All right." Mark said, kissing her possessively. "Let's go for a quick ride first, babe." He said. "A joy ride and a blowjob. What do you say, Rochey?"
Rochelle tried to smile. "Mark, my dad really wants to talk to you, otherwise I can't go to the dance on Saturday." She pulled on his hand. "Let's go."
"What did you do?" Mark demanded, grabbing Rochelle's wrist painfully.
"Nothing." Rochelle answered. "What do you mean?"
"You told him, didn't you?" Mark yelled.
"Told him what?" Rochelle asked, playing stupid. "Baby, what's wrong?"
"You stupid slut!" Mark raised his hand to hit her. Before his blows could fall, Fin had him against the car. "Assume the position. According to your record, you should know the procedure already."
Rochelle looked confused. "He has priors?"
"Two counts of date rape." John said, putting his hand on her shoulder. "Go take care of your dad, Rochelle."
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"Did he hurt you?" Elliot demanded, pulling Rochelle close and inspecting her.
"Don't you trust Fin and John to take care of me?" Rochelle asked, smiling. Then she grew serious. "He tried. Fin stopped him and John told me to come take care of you."
Elliot rolled his eyes. "Take care of me?" He hugged his daughter. "Baby, Mark will never hurt you again. I swear."
"Daddy?"
"Yeah, sweetie?"
"I love you." Rochelle whispered. Olivia turned her head, tears unexpectedly welling up in her eyes at this touching moment between father and daughter. Between Rochelle and Elliot. Elliot . . .
"I love you, too, princess."
Finally
the storm is letting up,
And the morning is breaking free.
"Who do you want in the room, Chelle?" Elliot asked. "Nobody's going to be mad." He handed her the bag of chips off the counter.
"You." Rochelle said, opening the bag and hopping up on the counter."
"That's a given." Elliot said, smiling. "Who else?"
Rochelle shrugged. "Whoever wants to, I guess."
"Baby," Elliot began, "everyone wants to be in there. Everyone wants to be with you."
Rochelle smiled, her eyes growing shiny. "It's funny. The first time I showed up at the precinct I didn't have anyone. Now every cop in the precinct wants my case."
"You're easy to love." Elliot said, sitting next to her on the counter and putting his arm around her shoulders. "You've got an appointment with Huang before the questioning." he added.
Rochelle shook her head. "Daddy, I'm—"
"Fine, I know." Elliot said, nodding. "Just go for me, baby. I want to know that you're okay."
Rochelle sighed. "Okay."
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"Do you want to talk about Mark?" George asked, smiling across the table.
Rochelle shrugged. "Sure. That's why I'm here, right?"
"You're here because your dad worries constantly." George said. "Then again, I suppose he has a right to worry this time. What do you think?"
Rochelle smiled and shook her head. "I . . . I'm not as shaken up as I should be. I wasn't the first time either. This time I just feel calmer. I mean, I did my part. I was in charge. He's not going to hit me again."
"No, he's not." George said. "If you're not shaken up, what do you feel? Are you trying to ignore it? Does it feel like a punishment, like you deserved it?"
Rochelle bit her lip, trying not to smile. "No offense, but I hate it when you shrink me."
"Most people do."
Rochelle looked at the table, tracing her fingers in an invisible pattern. "Sometimes I think I deserve it. I try not to think like that. And I'm not trying to ignore it. I know it happened. I just figure, why dwell on it? What happened happened. There's nothing I can do about it. I don't want to dwell on the past anymore. I just want to work on now. You know?"
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"Is it repression?" Elliot asked. "Is she trying to pretend it didn't happen?" He anxiously drummed his fingers on the side of the chair. "Why is she acting . . . okay? Fine? Good, even?"
"Your daughter's resilient." George said. "I don't know why. She's a strong woman. She understand what happened, she tries not to blame herself and she's succeeding with that. She knows Mark needs to go to prison and she's willing to do what it takes to make sure he stays there. She just . . . she wants to move on. She says she doesn't want to be the average rape victim. She wants to have a life where she's not afraid of men."
"Is that possible?" Elliot asked. "For her to have a 'normal' life?"
"Of course it's possible." George said. "It's even more possible for Rochelle. She's willing to work for it. She's an amazing woman, Elliot."
Elliot nodded. "That she is."
It's
a brand new day,
It's a second chance.
Yesterday is just a
memory,
For me and Emily.
"When did Mark start hitting you, Roxie?" Olivia asked, after pressing record on the tape player. She uncapped her black ink pen.
"About two weeks after we started dating." Rochelle said nervously, looking at her father. Elliot put his arm around her, squeezing her shoulder with his other hand.
"And the rapes?"
"Our one-month anniversary." Rochelle blinked back tears. "He got mad when I wouldn't put out. He said I owed it to him."
"Do you have any visible bruises?" John asked.
Rochelle nodded slowly. "Yeah . . . ummm . . . I do. My arm, my leg, my eye." she pointed at each place after she spoke. She paused for a moment, moving closer to her father. "He cut me with a razor blade." she whispered. "Olivia? Can I just show you?"
The woman stood up. "Of course. Come on."
Elliot held her as she stood up. "You'll be okay, sweetie." What the hell did he do to her?
Driving
through the rain with no radio,
Trying not to wake her up.
Cell
'phone says "low battery",
God, what if I break down?
Rochelle lifted up her shirt, putting the discarded item of the clothing on the side of the sink. Then she slowly unhooked her bra, tears filling her eyes. "I feel like a whore." she admitted.
Olivia shook her head. "You're not." She bit her lip, fighting tears. There were three cuts adorning Rochelle's breasts, two on the left and one on the right. The cut on the right breast was about two inches long, no more than a slash made about a half inch below her nipple. On the left breast, Mark had cut his initials. There was also the word 'slut' spelled out in capital letters. One above the nipple and one below. Rochelle would never be able to wear low-cut blouses again. That is, if she ever wanted to.
"Oh, Roxie . . ."
Rochelle shook her head. "That's not all, Olivia." She unsnapped her jeans and pulled them down and then off, along with her underwear. The word 'bitch' was spelled out on Rochelle's pelvis, away from her private region, but low enough hat it was covered by her underwear and hip huggers.
Olivia nodded, tears spilling. "Okay, Rochelle. You can get dressed now." The young girl looked so broken and afraid standing in the precinct's bathroom. She was naked, all her secrets exposed.
Some
day, when she's old enough,
She's gonna start askin' questions
about him . . .
"Does he not love me like you do?"
Rochelle left the precinct with Elliot about three hours later. He dug around in the medicine cabinet and came out with a bottle. He handed it to his daughter. "It's cocoa butter. It'll help with the healing and the scars, Chelle."
She nodded. "Daddy?"
"Yeah, baby?"
"I'm scared of going to court." Rochelle whispered. "What if Mark gets off? He'll come back and—"
"I will never let Mark hurt you again." Elliot kissed the top of her head. "I swear on my life."
"Daddy—"
"I swear."
"He said he'd kill you." Rochelle said, a sob tearing from her throat. "Daddy, he—"
"No one's going to get hurt, Rochelle." Elliot said firmly. "Not you, not me, not Olivia or John or Fin . . . or anyone, do you understand?"
Rochelle nodded slowly. "Yeah, Daddy, I understand."
Big
rigs are throwing rain on my windshield,
And I feel like they're
laughing at me.
Finally the storm is letting up,
And the
mornin' is breaking free.
"I need to know if I can use the pictures of your cuts as evidence, Rochelle." Alex said. "They would be close-ups, so no one would actually see your breasts. I need your permission too, Elliot."
Rochelle nodded. "Okay. It's fine with me."
Elliot put his hands on her shoulders. "All right. Do you need me to sign anything?"
"Yeah." Alex slid a paper across the table, then dropped the professional demeanor. "Are you okay, Rochelle?" She winced. "Sorry, bad question. How are you doing?"
"I'm doing all right." Rochelle answered. "Some moments are better than others. I'm a little worried about this court thing, though."
"Don't be." Alex said encouragingly. "We'll run this a million and two times, until you're comfortable with everything. We'll go to the court room. Mark is going to get the maximum sentence. Battery, rape, statutory rape, assault, and a half a dozen other charges. We're going to put him away."
"H-He . . ." Rochelle paused. "Manslaughter."
"What?" Alex asked, her eyes going wide. Elliot dropped the pen.
"Manslaughter. I was . . ." Rochelle adverted her eyes. "I was pregnant, Alex. He beat me so bad that I lost the baby. He said it would ruin his chances of a sports scholarship."
When did we fall down
When was ring around the rosies no longer a game
When was my life up to the roll of dice
When did my secrets become my worst fears
When did my worst fears become secrets
And memories past
But can memories ever really disappear
Will my scars heal?
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Please R&R.
The plot bunny has bitten me.
CHAPTER SEVEN: no current title: THE CASE AND THE PREGNANCY!
PLEASE R&R! I NEED YOUR REVIEWS TO KEEP ME GOING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!