brothers.

73~ Facing Demons

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.