Before they could get in there with me, I racked my brains for exactly
how anyone could have found out. But try as I might, I couldn't come up
with anything. I don't know why I was so desperate to know this. Knowing
wouldn't change anything, but I couldn't help obsessing over it.
Jane walked in a few minutes later.
"Hi JT. Do you want a coke or something?"
"Nah, I'm okay," I replied.
"I know this is going to be really tough for you, but we really need to know what your dad did to you."
"How did anyone find out about..." I trailed off. "I know for a fact I never told anyone, I was always really careful about that."
"Your friend Toby came to us, with some journals from inside the locker you two share. He had read some of it, and, well, it was pretty clear what was happening."
An awkward silence passed between us. She started talking again.
"Could you tell me what happened?"
"I don't...I mean. I don't think..." I had no idea what to say to her.
"JT, relax, okay? I'm not going to judge you. None of this is your fault. We just want to bring justice to the man who did this."
I didn't say anything, so she kept talking.
"Maybe you could tell me how long this has been going on."
"Since I was seven. He always called me just plain old JT, but one day he called me son. He'd never done that before. That was the first night..."
"The first night what?"
"He came into my room." I could feel tears forming behind my eyes, but I wouldn't let myself cry. I was not a sissy.
"What did he do when he came into your room?
"Why are you doing this? Why can't you just leave me alone?"
"Don't you want your father to be punished for what he did?"
"No. I just want everyone to leave me alone. If I had wanted him punished, I would have outright told someone, wouldn't I?"
"Not necessarily. I've had plenty of people leave messages like the one in your journal places so anyone can read them, just so they can get help without actually asking for it. Please JT, just tell me what happened."
"He'd started coming into my room two or three times a week. He didn't really do much. He climbed into my bed with me, and told me he wanted to protect me. But he didn't really touch me. That didn't start until I was nine. By then, I was used to him coming into my room. I didn't really like it, but I put up with it. I figured it was normal. One day though, he came in before I was done putting on my pajamas. He walked in anyway, and told me not to bother with the pants of the pajamas. So I was just standing there in my underwear." I stopped. I didn't really want to continue.
"JT, keep going. You're doing fine."
He told me to lie down on my back, close my eyes, and not make a sound. I did what he said, because he was my dad, and I always did what he said. He started pulling down my underwear. I told him to stop, but he put his finger to his lips, said 'shhhh' and told me to close my eyes. I did what he said, because I didn't know what else to do. Once he had gotten my underwear down..." I broke off again. This was really hard. A tear escaped, and ran down my cheek, where I brushed it away angrily.
"He must have been looking at me, because nothing happened for a minute. Then, all of a sudden, he was touching me. I didn't like it, I remember. It hurt, and it felt really wrong. He did that same thing for the next few nights, until one night. He did the same thing he usually did, but this time he took his clothes off too. Every night it seemed to get worse. It finally escalated to the point it's been at for months now. He'd...touch me, and then...he'd touch himself."
"You mean he'd masturbate in front of you?"
"Yeah." I stopped right there. I wasn't going to say anymore.
"Is that all?" she asked me.
"Yes," I said, lying through my teeth.
"Ok, JT. You did great. I'm going to have someone take you home. If you want to tell me anything more, you just call this number on my card, okay?" She handed me a card.
"Yeah, okay."
She led me out of the room, and to a cop who drove me home.
Jane walked in a few minutes later.
"Hi JT. Do you want a coke or something?"
"Nah, I'm okay," I replied.
"I know this is going to be really tough for you, but we really need to know what your dad did to you."
"How did anyone find out about..." I trailed off. "I know for a fact I never told anyone, I was always really careful about that."
"Your friend Toby came to us, with some journals from inside the locker you two share. He had read some of it, and, well, it was pretty clear what was happening."
An awkward silence passed between us. She started talking again.
"Could you tell me what happened?"
"I don't...I mean. I don't think..." I had no idea what to say to her.
"JT, relax, okay? I'm not going to judge you. None of this is your fault. We just want to bring justice to the man who did this."
I didn't say anything, so she kept talking.
"Maybe you could tell me how long this has been going on."
"Since I was seven. He always called me just plain old JT, but one day he called me son. He'd never done that before. That was the first night..."
"The first night what?"
"He came into my room." I could feel tears forming behind my eyes, but I wouldn't let myself cry. I was not a sissy.
"What did he do when he came into your room?
"Why are you doing this? Why can't you just leave me alone?"
"Don't you want your father to be punished for what he did?"
"No. I just want everyone to leave me alone. If I had wanted him punished, I would have outright told someone, wouldn't I?"
"Not necessarily. I've had plenty of people leave messages like the one in your journal places so anyone can read them, just so they can get help without actually asking for it. Please JT, just tell me what happened."
"He'd started coming into my room two or three times a week. He didn't really do much. He climbed into my bed with me, and told me he wanted to protect me. But he didn't really touch me. That didn't start until I was nine. By then, I was used to him coming into my room. I didn't really like it, but I put up with it. I figured it was normal. One day though, he came in before I was done putting on my pajamas. He walked in anyway, and told me not to bother with the pants of the pajamas. So I was just standing there in my underwear." I stopped. I didn't really want to continue.
"JT, keep going. You're doing fine."
He told me to lie down on my back, close my eyes, and not make a sound. I did what he said, because he was my dad, and I always did what he said. He started pulling down my underwear. I told him to stop, but he put his finger to his lips, said 'shhhh' and told me to close my eyes. I did what he said, because I didn't know what else to do. Once he had gotten my underwear down..." I broke off again. This was really hard. A tear escaped, and ran down my cheek, where I brushed it away angrily.
"He must have been looking at me, because nothing happened for a minute. Then, all of a sudden, he was touching me. I didn't like it, I remember. It hurt, and it felt really wrong. He did that same thing for the next few nights, until one night. He did the same thing he usually did, but this time he took his clothes off too. Every night it seemed to get worse. It finally escalated to the point it's been at for months now. He'd...touch me, and then...he'd touch himself."
"You mean he'd masturbate in front of you?"
"Yeah." I stopped right there. I wasn't going to say anymore.
"Is that all?" she asked me.
"Yes," I said, lying through my teeth.
"Ok, JT. You did great. I'm going to have someone take you home. If you want to tell me anything more, you just call this number on my card, okay?" She handed me a card.
"Yeah, okay."
She led me out of the room, and to a cop who drove me home.