***Trigger Warning – contains potentially distressing material pertaining to sexual assault
Because a police report was filed against the attackers who sexually assaulted me, the two of them, their parents, and my aunt had to go to court. I remember only going once with my aunt, but I remember nothing about any actual proceedings. I do not even remember a judge. I only remember knowing it was court because the building looked grand and stately like most court buildings, and I wanted to walk up the hundreds of steps because I had a fascination with the sound my shoes made when I walked on them.
When we arrived, I remember being designated to wait with a woman who I believe might have been a social worker. She was extremely friendly and smiled at me a lot. I also remember my aunt saying that I would not be returning to court because the social worker said I was not competent. At the time, I did not know what this meant, but now I know it to mean that it was obviously decided I simply could not do court.
I do remember the social worker telling my aunt that there was plenty of evidence from my physical exam from the doctor’s office. I remember this because I was puzzled and did not feel that the social worker and my aunt were actually talking about me. I presumed that they were talking about someone else because I could not remember a doctor’s exam. Perhaps there was evidence of scarring and bruises from the assault. Back then, DNA collection was only in the beginning stages; so, the evidence had to be based on the doctor’s analysis.
Frankly, as dissociated as I was, I do not believe that I was actually competent to be anywhere, and this had to be the case because the other few times that my aunt actually went to court, she did not take me with her. I also do not ever remember her having discussions with me about the proceedings. Looking back, maybe it was best for me not to know or maybe I was too zoned out of it to even comprehend, but I always thought that time period in my life was strange because I never felt like I was a part of it, and when things focused around it, I always felt like I was an observer sitting in a hazy dream.
Yet, I always knew when my aunt had to go to court because she would complain about missing time at work. I would often feel a blanket of shame thrown upon me for something that was not even my fault. It was like I was forced to feel guilty for a multitude of situations that had nothing to do with me. My aunt always said that my being in the wrong place at the wrong time had caused a whole lot of people nothing but trouble while I was able to stay in la la land. Her responses about this always made me feel indignant. I wanted to lash out, and eventually I did (but I will talk about that in another post).
Anyway, I do not recall how often my aunt went to court, but at some point, I no longer remember any mention of it, the attackers, or the assault. I do not remember the punishment the attackers received or if they were punished at all. Other than these fragments of memories, there is nothing that I can piece together that makes sense. But from the volatile encounter I had with the attacker’s girlfriend, I could only assume that the outcome for the attackers may not have been so good at least in their eyes.
From what I came to understand in most instances back then is that youth could be sent to juvenile detention centers for a while or they could have been let go with a stain on their record in the future. I have no way of knowing what happened to the attackers or if they were held accountable. My aunt never talked to me about it. If she did talk about it, she made the same begrudging remarks she always made … that I had caused nothing but trouble for everyone around me.
All the while, however, I was so zoned out and in another space so that none of it seemed to matter to me anyway. Although it did matter, it did not matter in the sense that I was not aware that I was not violated but in the sense that I was unable to connect myself to the violation. My mind had so erased this trauma from my memory, that I functioned on being zoned out, and for a very long time, that was the only way I could be.
Stay tuned for more posts.
My Voice Unchained 