A couple days after the subpoena, Susan and Davis drove me to the police station to talk to the detective about the case. It was a month away, but preparations were in motion.
The detective was unexpectedly nice. He introduced himself as Detective Alex Poole, a thin man of a warm, rich complexion, like mahogany, and thinning salt-and-pepper hair. In an interrogation room, he asked me about Pat and Kim and how they treated each other, how they abused us, stuff like that.
At first, I questioned why they needed to talk about what they did to us; that was 12 years ago. Detective Poole explained that the defense wanted to twist the story and make it look like Pat killed Kim in ‘self-defense’ because she was an ‘abusive wife’. Worse, the two younger children, Lila and Bernard, were going to testify for the defense. Only Patrick Jr. would tell the truth… and me.
I wasn’t about to defend Kim and say she was a nice person. She was just as evil as he was, even if he did abuse and kill her. But I didn’t want Patrick to walk free. He needed to be behind bars. He needed to be blocked from harming more people… and me. Even though he wasn’t really my uncle, I was too scared that he’d try to take me back just because he hated me. He wouldn’t want me to be happy.
With every day, the month grew shorter. It was February 14th now; 26 days until the trial. 26 days until I’d have to see that monster’s face again. And that clock was ticking.
What would I say? I couldn’t just talk about how Pat abused me in that short time. What if they didn’t believe me? What if they thought I was making it up, or filling in blank memories? I couldn’t even remember most of the stuff that happened.
“You don’t remember because you blocked it,” a small voice told me. I sighed, annoyed, and turned to the little girl sitting on my bed behind me. She was around 7 or 8.
“Did I ask for your input?”
“I’m here,” she remarked.
I rolled my eyes, returning to my homework. If I just focused, she’d leave my mind. “I don’t have time for you right now.”
“You’re always wasting your time thinking about how much of a victim you are.” An older girl suddenly appeared next to her.
“What are you doing here?” I groaned. “I have to deal with both of you now?”
“Yeah, that’s weird. Usually, you think about only one of us.”
“I guess there’s just a lot on your mind,” the younger one said. “So, you think you can get Pat in jail?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, if you don’t say anything, he could just go home.”
“There’s other witnesses,” I retorted.
“Yeah, but what if it’s not enough? What if you mess it up?”
“Could you shut up? I’m trying to think.” I stared blankly at the math problems on my screen.
“You are thinking,” the older one chuckled. “That’s why we’re here.”
I covered my face, breathing out. This trial would fill my mind until it was over… or maybe it’d keep filling my mind afterwards. I stood, leaving my homework. The only way to get these thoughts out of my head was to properly organize them rather then letting them pile up. Dr. Cawman had taught me a couple techniques to keep my thoughts from overwhelming me.
“Okay, okay.” I shook my hands and wiped them on my shirt. The room had suddenly gotten hot. “So… obviously, I’m thinking about the trial,” I told myself. “But why am I thinking about you guys?”
The younger one shrugged. “I dunno. I guess you remember more about me than all the younger versions of you?”
“The last time you were in a court was when you were my age,” the older one said.
I stopped. “What?”
“Don’t you remember? They did a trial to prove the Daniels were abusing me and their kids.”
My head ached lightly and I sat down again. How could I forget that? For years, that memory hadn’t graced my consciousness.
“But I was mostly just sitting there. I didn’t say a lot,” she added. “It was mostly focused on their bio kids.”
“What did I say…?” I clutched my forehead. “What did I say that day? I… don’t remember anything.” The memory of the courtroom flickered weakly in my mind’s eye. It was only seven years ago. It wasn’t that long.
“I guess I’m here because I’m your earliest memory?” the younger one guessed.
I shook my head. “No, I remember a lot more…” I winced, stopping, but it was too late. She was here.
“D-does anyone have a blankie?” My 6-year old self shivered, wearing a tattered T-shirt and a skirt. She was drenched, water dripping from her hair, and her face was bruised.
I approached her, reaching out, and found a towel draped over my arm. I quickly took it and wrapped it around her shoulders. She was still shivering as she looked up at me, as if I betrayed her.
“Don’t look at me like that, please.” I turned away.
“Why? You didn’t do anything to stop it,” she said resentfully.
“What was I supposed to do?!” I exclaimed. “A tiny, scrawny little girl against high school boys? Boys that are literally sick in the head and like to torture kids? Yeah, sure, I could do a lot more.”
“I wouldn’t have been in the Basement if you didn’t make everyone hate you!” she shouted.
“Everyone hates me just because! It doesn’t matter what I do!”
“You lied about Brianna, and that’s why she pretended to be me and get them to take me down there! That’s why they did this to me!”
“Brianna?” I looked at her. “Who’s that?”
“That mean girl. The one that put her shoe in my food,” she said. “You told the teacher she poked Ellie with a pencil, and they took her to that basement room, where the mean kids were. So when she came back, she lied about me.”
I stared at her for a little while, then realized I was getting dizzy. There were way too many forgotten memories resurfacing to my mind, all because of this stupid trial. How did I forget so much? Why did I have to do this?
“Just thinking about it makes you crazy,” 7-year old me said. “How are you gonna tell the grown-ups what you saw?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re gonna mess it up, like always,” 9-year old me remarked, rolling her eyes.
“Could you guys just leave me alone?”
“What if you have to make the other bad guys go to jail?” the youngest one asked, still shivering and clutching her towel.
“Other bad guys?”
“All the other families. They all did really mean things, and a lot of them were against the law, you know. The Stevensons, the Brookmans…” 9-year old me started counting on her fingers.
“The Jaspers.” An even older version of me appeared.
“The Ellisons,” a quiet voice added. In the corner of my room, 11-year old me sat, her knees hugged against her chest. She hardly looked at us, as if ashamed. “He… he did a really b-bad thing.” She swallowed. “He should go to jail so he doesn’t do it again. You should do something about it.”
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“Mr. Tampa should, too.” An older me sat in the closet, her hair disheveled and tears staining her face. She also avoided our gazes. “He was taking in another girl after me, remember? What if he did the same thing to her?”
I covered my ears, blocking out their voices. All my thoughts were torturing me. This was way too much pressure.
Thankfully, they were interrupted by two things: my phone pinging, and Lonnie jumping on my lap to calm the anxiety attack I was having. I petted him and kissed his head before looking at my phone. I was back at my desk, back to normal, and my room was empty.
t_lowe450: hi Diana, how r u? Been a little while since we texted.
Guilt flooded my heart. Since the subpoena, I couldn’t really talk a lot. Staying up all night thinking about the moment I’d see his face again had me trapped in an endless brain fog, where I would do nothing but slowly progress through my homework and take brief naps throughout the day.
I wasn’t allowed to tell anyone I was testifying, so I didn’t have much to talk about with them. It was all I could do to not crack under the pressure and ask them for advice or comfort about the whole thing.
I texted back, Hi, Tony! I’m okay, and I’m sorry we haven’t talked. How are you and Addie doing?
Shes ok, she got sick tho, he replied.
Sick??
Yea there’s a flu going around. But shes gonna b ok, she just needs to rest for a while
Aww tell her I hope she gets better.
Thanks (smiling emoji) I will. He then said, Happy Valentines btw (blush emoji)
I checked the date. I hadn’t even realized it was the 14th. Aww thanks! You too! I replied.
I was wondering if ur up to hanging out sometime? Ik youre probably busy, dont feel bad if u cant rn. Lots of stuff gets in the way. I just really want to get to know u more and make up for lost time
I shook my head, amazed. All this time I avoided talking to him or anyone else, and he still wanted to spend time with me? I didn’t deserve him, or anyone else. I was such a terrible friend.
“Or he just really wants to mess with you,” a young voice interrupted me.
“Ugh! Why can’t you just go away?!” I turned sharply in my seat, pausing when I took in her battered state. She sat on my bed, her arms wrapped around her legs.
“You remember he was the same?” she said. “Every time you ran away, he would go after you. He’d hug you when you panicked. He said he’d always be there. But then… he just snapped one day.”
“Tony’s not like that,” I said.
“How do you know?”
“Marco was 20! This is different!”
“So? Just because he’s your age now doesn’t mean he’s gonna be a good person.”
“He just wants to hang out.”
“He just wants you,” she retorted. “He’s tired of you, but he wants something from you.”
“Just stop. Please.” I turned away. “Go away.” I checked my phone, going to the group chat. The girls hadn’t talked a lot lately. Mildred, Blanche, and Alma occasionally texted, but Thelma and Kate were weirdly silent.
“They don’t like you, either. That’s why they don’t talk to you. They think you’re annoying.” 11-year old me was back, this time wearing that horrible uniform.
“You’re so exhausting to be with,” 14-year old me said.
“Is that why they did this to me?” The little one was still wet and cold, shivering in the corner.
“He’s gonna leave the bad guy place.” The youngest stood next to me, staring into my eyes. Sea green on sea green. “You’re gonna mess up. He’s gonna hurt you again. The grown-ups don’t like you.”
“Just go AWAY!” I stood, turning to the girls, but my room was empty. Lonnie ran up to me, pawing at my arm. I went to my bed and lied down, exhausted. I needed to do something else. Homework wouldn’t do it.
Maybe I could go for a run…
~~~
It was still cold this time of year, but there wasn’t much snow anymore; just small showers every now and then. I was sure to avoid the outlet this time, sticking to my surrounding neighborhood. I’d learned my lesson.
I was actually a bit proud of myself for finally going out to run despite the circumstances. I’d been locked up in my room for days. Of course, I knew better than to go alone.
“Can we… take… a break?” Harry panted.
“I thought you played football,” I said.
“It’s been a while. We quit, remember?” Tommy also sounded exhausted.
“Okay, fine. Lonnie needs a break.” I slowed down. Next to me, Lonnie panted, his tongue hanging out in the cold air.
“Oh, yeah, Lonnie needs a break.” Harry rolled his eyes.
I checked my smart watch. It was about 3:30. It would start getting dark soon. We’d stuck close to our neighborhood, but ventured a little further to visit someone. After a little while, we resumed trotting, reaching our destination.
“You want to be alone?” Tommy asked.
I hesitated. “Just stick close.”
“No, we’re gonna leave you here by yourself,” Harry said sarcastically, earning a nudge from his brother.
“I’m just answering.” We entered the cemetery. “And I’m 16, not 6. I can be ‘by myself’.”
“Not like this.”
Sludge stuck to our boots as we walked through the graveyard, reaching the two. I stared at Julia’s name; Julia Aurora Field. She was supposed to be Watson. She was their daughter.
If Heaven was real, would she be up there with her parents? Would she even know they were her parents? And Amy, did she know? Did she know I was her sister and not Julia? Could she see me now?
Harry crouched, leaving a handful of periwinkles on Amy’s grave. He then stood with us, our eyes on her name.
“She was so peaceful,” he suddenly said. Tommy didn’t respond, instead biting his lips to resist his tears. “She told me…” His jaw trembled. “She said she was at peace. And she wanted me to feel the same. She knew it would be hard, but that we would feel better soon. One day.”
“Do you?”
Another long pause. “It’s hard to say,” Tommy continued for him. “I think… personally, I’ve accepted she’s gone. But life just seems less bright without her. I’ve felt better with you, though. You bring your own light. But Amy… life without Amy is still something we haven’t gotten used to.”
“I think I feel the same,” said Harry. “I’m happy with you around, Diana. So happy. But at the same time… it just feels so unfair that Amy didn’t get to have a sister. It just feels so wrong that she’s not here for all of this.”
“I wish she was here, too,” I said. “It feels like… I really missed out.”
“You did,” Tommy chuckled tearfully.
“We did, too.” Harry’s eyes turned down. “We were… mean. And insensitive. We were jerks. We didn’t realize how much we were taking her for granted… I know that sounds so cliched, but it’s the only way I can describe it. And then we did the same with you.”
“It was different with me,” I told him. “I get it. I’m with you now.”
They stared at her stone for a while before Harry patted my shoulder. “We’ll be right here, okay?” He and Tommy turned away, walking towards some of their other family members that were buried here.
Our family members. Right.
“Amy…” I chuckled, blushing awkwardly. “This feels so weird. I… I’m still trying to get over the fact that… you were my sister this whole time. And I never knew you. Even though we were… pretty close by.”
I looked at the sky, my fists clenching. How many prayers went unanswered? They always said praying would get you what you wanted.
What about Amy? Her family prayed for her, and she still died. Why? What did she do? What did they do?
“How did you do it?” I asked her. “How did you face the fact that you would just… die? How did you accept that? That’s even worse than what I have to go through… that’s coming from someone who wanted to die… a few months ago. I’m still kinda on the fence, to be honest.” I glanced up at my brothers, who had their arms around each other’s shoulders as they gazed down at someone’s grave. “Sometimes I wonder if God… if he let me live because he wants me to suffer more for my sins. I know I did really bad things throughout my life, but there’s a lot of things that aren’t my fault.”
I looked back up at the sky. I wondered if he was listening. Now that I was reading his book, would he listen? Amy and her family always prayed to him, but he said no. Why?
“I never had a brother… or a sister. I never met you, but this is a time where I just… wish you were here. I wish you were in my life. I wish I could actually talk to you. Having a sister… it sounds so nice.” My jaw trembled. “I thought I’d be free when I found out your family was my family, I thought I’d never worry about it again… now I have to go to court and testify against the person that put me in foster care.”
I wondered if Monica could also hear me. She always seemed so happy despite being sick. Going through all those surgeries, chemo sessions, medications… and she still managed to smile. She would put that smile on my face, which was quite a feat. Did she ever feel scared about dying? Why didn’t I ask her? I didn’t get to know her as well as I wanted to. I should’ve gone out more. I should’ve visited her more.
What would she say to me if she were still here? She probably would’ve found some way to make me feel better. She was such a beautiful person. Why did she have to die? What did she do to deserve this? Did her parents do anything?
Why did any of this happen?!
“What do I do?” Tears leaked. “Amy, what do I do? What did you do? I don’t… I can’t look at him and… I’m gonna screw it up. I know it. What do I do?” My gloved fingers pressed into my eyes, the fabric absorbing the tears.
For a while, I just cried. I hadn’t really taken time to simply cry it out. In the past, my ways of ‘letting it out’ were a lot more harmful. But now I could just stand there and sob, without anyone judging me or telling me to shut up.
And then, I was calm.
The tears disappeared. My heart slowed. Lonnie looked up at me, tilting his head, as if asking what was happening. I suddenly felt so… okay. I felt like… I didn’t have to worry. But there was so much to worry about.
Hearing footsteps behind me, I turned. Like a deer in headlights, Ivy stood there, her brown skin turning pale. We stared at each other, long enough for it to grow awkward.
“Um… I’ll come back later.” She turned.
“No, it’s fine.” I sniffled, hiding any trace of vulnerability. “I’m done.” I stepped away with Lonnie.
She approached, her brown eyes on me. She cleared her throat and said, “I heard. About… the whole DNA thing.”
“Oh. Yeah.”
“Um… I-I know Amy would’ve been… happy. If she knew.” She stepped back as Lonnie sniffed her.
“Yeah, I bet.”
Lonnie’s sniffing was the only sound that broke the silence. Thankfully, my brothers returned, also pausing at the sight of Ivy. Tommy’s eyes hardened with resentment, not saying a word, while Harry curtly nodded at her. “Ivy.”
“Hi.” She looked away.
“Diana, did you want a couple more minutes?”
“No, I’m fine. Let’s just go home.”
We started to walk away. Ivy hastily stopped us. “I- I…”
We turned. “What?” said Tommy.
“I… I’m sorry about… what happened at Monica’s funeral,” she forced out. “I was just really upset. So… sorry.”
I was honestly at a loss at what to say. I looked at my brothers, hoping they’d fill the awkward void, but they were as shocked as I was.
“Thanks… I guess?” Harry cleared his throat. “We’re gonna go.” We headed out of the graveyard. I still felt Ivy’s eyes on me. I’d never understand that girl.
At this moment, though… I would’ve preferred to face her and her clique at school than go through testifying in court.