One of the hardest parts of the night was having to tell my dad. He looked so utterly devastated. We never told my little brother, but my parents brought me straight to the hospital. Not only had I not been in a hospital since I was a small child, but I also never had a doctor do a gynecologic exam on me. I remember sitting rocking on the bed and refusing to talk to anyone. The nurse that came in was very kind. I remember them wheeling the cart in with the speculum, comb, and other items to collect evidence, but I honestly don’t remember much more of that night, other than them sticking the speculum in and then I blacked out. I don’t even remember geting home.

The next morning my parents told me that I needed to go to school, and no one would know what happened. I wasn’t at school for 20 minutes when a girl came up to me and told me that I better drop the charges if I knew what was good for me.

The only thing I remember after that is going to the park next to the school and hiding in a corner and rocking myself and crying. A friend of mine, Scott, came down and asked me if I wanted to go for a ride, but I don’t remember my response. I just know I sat there until almost dark. That night I went home and refused to eat dinner and just went to my room. All I can remember is sitting on my bed and feeling absolutely numb, like I was not even alive. I had only been up there a short time when I saw the same car drive up and down my street multiple times, always slowing in front of my house. I was so scared that I just hid on the floor and cried until the car finally left.

Eventually I did get in the shower and remember making it as hot as I could make it and just scrubbing and scrubbing as I cried. I felt so dirty and disgusting, and I blamed myself for what Emily had gone through. My parents continued to make me go to school every day. I did try to go to class but I would just sit at my desk and stare blankly at the wall. I don’t think I ever talked to anyone. I just felt like everyone knew. My days in school were very few. Most of them were spent at the park by the school or the state park where I would climb up the hill and sit on a large rock overlooking the park and just drink and rock myself. My alcohol and marijuana use just got worse and worse until I could finally choke down and bury my feelings. I never told anyone what happened to me because I didn’t want to remember. My parents did take me to counseling for about a month, but all the damn doctor wanted to talk about was my skipping class. I finally got expelled from school due to my attendance, but I didn’t care. If I wasn’t drinking or doing drugs, I was contemplating suicide. I literally couldn’t stand to be in my own skin. As the court date got closer, I retreated more and more into myself. I really don’t remember the next few months until my parents found me sitting in front of my bedroom windows naked and just rocking myself. I couldn’t even talk. A few days later, they came and told me that we were moving to Miami. I never got to testify, and Reggie got away with what he did to me. I still don’t understand why my parents never hospitalized me to get me the help I really needed. They just felt if we didn’t talk about it and moved away, it would just magically get better.