"Am I dead? Why is it so cold? Who is that lady?" These are the first three things I think when I wake up. I'm in a cold room and yes, there is a lady writing something down on a clipboard. I finally come to and notice her uniform- she's a nurse. I realize I am in a hospital and the events of last night come flooding back.
"Oh no." I moan, slapping my forehead. I look at my left arm and see that my cuts have stitches. "I was supposed to die! You stupid bitch." I mumble. I obviously didn't do it right.
The nurse looks at me and smiles a sweet smile. "Sweetie, you're not stupid. You're hurting and you need help." She tells me, placing a hand on top of mine. I notice her name is Alison.
"Did you call my foster parents?" I ask, worry overtaking me.
"We had to notify them that you were found but they are not allowed to come and see you. We need to find out what happened and why you were missing. The police need to speak with you before they start an investigation." I take a minute to reply. This is it. I can finally tell someone. I can finally report Tom to the police and I won't ever have to go through that again. Well, hopefully.
"My foster-dad sexually abuses me." I blurt out. Just saying the words feels like a huge weight has been lifted off of my shoulders. I had kept quiet for months, keeping this dark, terrible secret between the three of us. I had never spoken the words aloud.
"Alright, ok. I'll have someone come talk to you. And don't worry, your foster parents will not be allowed to come and see you." She reassures me. I smile a weak smile and she leaves the room. I look at my arm again. I'm sort of disappointed that my suicide attempt didn't go as planned, but I'm alive, I'm finally going to receive help, and that is a shining hope I have been yearning to see.
I'm awaken by my nurse, Alison. "Skylar, a couple of detectives are here to talk to you." She says. I rub my eyes and sit up. A lady with long brown hair walks in, along with a well built man. I notice that the lady is beautiful, with an affectionate smile. I feel ok around her, I feel a peace I've never felt and it's comforting.
"Hi Skylar, I'm Olivia Benson with the Special Victims Unit, and this is my partner, Elliot Stabler." She says, and her voice sounds so sweet. I smile at them. "Can you tell us what happened?" Olivia is so very nice, I don't deserve to be treated this kind. She pulls up a chair to the hospital bed but Elliot remains standing.
"It's been happening for the past seven months. He rapes me." I whisper. Olivia tilts her head.
"Who Skylar? Who has been hurting you?"
"Tom." I whisper.
"Your foster-dad?" Elliot asks. I nod.
"He'll kill me when he finds out!" I say, and tears threaten to spill over. Olivia holds my hand. Elliot goes over into a corner and makes a phone call.
"Skylar, you're safe, I promise. Tom will not be able to hurt you or anyone else anymore because the truth is out and he will be locked away." She tells me, and I want to hug her, but I don't because I just met her. I'm desperate to, though, because it's been so long since I had someone hold me in their arms, to comfort me. I have friends, but they're all potheads or self-harmers, not really the comforting or supportive type. Elliot comes back over and takes a seat.
I tell them everything. How at first Tom and Suzanna were nice, how I got in trouble for petty shit, how Tom's touching turned into rape, etc. Olivia and Elliot just listened. They didn't judge. They didn't call me a slut. They believed me, and that made me feel important, it made me feel like I mattered. "Will they find out I told?" I ask, but I already know the answer.
Elliot nods. "They will soon. Another detective is going to pick them up to bring them in for questioning. We'll keep them in custody and we'll go from there."
"I'm so stupid for trying to kill myself." I mumble.
"You're not stupid, Skylar. You were hurting, you were scared. I'm not saying that suicide is ok, but you lived for a purpose. You survived so you would be able to expose who Tom really is, so he wouldn't be able to hurt anybody else who would go into their home." Olivia tells me and she melts my heart. I wish I could hug her. I wish she could hold me in her arms and tell me everything will be ok.
After Olivia and Elliot are finished talking with me, they leave so I can have a physical exam for evidence that I have been sexually abused by Tom. It's not that the detectives don't believe me, it's so that there is proof for a jury, and not just some story I've made up. There are girls, and guys I assume, who have lied about being raped.
As bad as I wanted to, I didn't shower last night after Tom was done. He used a condom, but I didn't want to wash away whatever evidence there was, no matter how small. I'm finally allowed to shower so I do, and this time I don't stop the tears. Ever since that first time Tom hurt me, I've cried only a few times. How many times have I needed to cry but I cut instead, to mask the emotional pain with a pain much more dangerous, much more tolerable? I deserve to cry, I deserve to feel sorry for myself. I've been through so much. I lost my parents, I've been raped countless times, I've been treated like a rag doll. I clean myself, imagining all of the hurt, degradation, and sorrow washing down the drain.