Trying To Heal

Thirty-Seven

April

Who was ever going to tell me that a man moaning is so outrageously sexy? For the past twenty-four hours, the sounds Derek made — his grunts, his gasps, his moans — restated in my ears like a song. He was switching between wanting to control and wanting to be controlled.

I heard so many stories that the first time was always bad. The way the hymen rips is painful. It's uncomfortable at first. But my first time? It was perfect. The roses. The bed. The rooftop. It was so perfect.

"Objection, Your Honour!" said Acierno quickly. "Statement is irrelevant to the defence."

"Objection denied," replied Judge Vella.

The sudden outburst shatters me out of my reveries. Unsettled, flustered and somewhat contrite, I survey the courtroom to escape the sinful desires. I hasten to the audience, expecting each individual, including the judge, to snap to me and cuss me out for this attitude.

It is the third day of the trial; it consists of the defence's testimonies. The first person is Ines Chey. She was questioned about the basics: has she seen or heard anything suspicious at the party, if she knew where everyone was once the police raided the place. She confessed that Camila, Aashvi and Destiny began to gain a contentious reputation in the beginning of Year 12. She courageously spoke of what Destiny has done to her; how the other two are like at school.

Next was Principal Burrows.

"Miss. Chey is right." The throngs gasped stridently at the declaration. "I am not fully certain if Bodie Banks is the perpetrator. Of course, I only knew him through his personality in Edgewater Independent. He was, in fact, a perfect student. Reserved and hard-working. You could tell he wanted to do the best. I was right behind him, supporting him in every method I could think of. The three girls, on the other hand, are odd. Deranged. They had to come into my office numerous times. Miss. De La Cruz, for one, is outrageously racist. She was suspended for her degradation of the black community in the school. I believe in redemption, in lessons nurturing and maturing a person. Therefore, I suspended her in hopes that she would learn. She refused to. Stubborn child, she is. I was about to expel her for good. Her personality was damaging the ethnic minority students. Then her parents paid me a visit, both in school and outside of school, and kindly requested me to excuse her behaviour as she is 'going through a hard time'. 'She is a rape victim', they said—" He emphasised the recitation with quotation marks "—'Please give her time to heal'."

Mr Burrows scoffs a humourless, acerbic laugh. "Inflicting your trauma onto others is what you call 'healing'? Please. I have taught thousands of students in the past fifteen years. Not one has terrorised and shot racist attacks at their peers to escape and heal from their trauma.

"The other two girls are just as bad and ridiculous. Miss. Varma is prejudiced to the LGBTQ+ community. She uses her religion as an alibi. Miss. Byrne is ..." He endeavours to word it out properly. "These three girls are insecure, yes. Miss Byrne? Her insecurities are the worst. They are so treacherous and mortigying, that she degrades confident girls."

I peek at Destiny on the other side, detecting the tightening of her jaw and the pleasing moistening of her eyes. Cry, you fucking brat.

"An example was when Ines Chey's personal life was leaked onto social media," says Principal Burrows. "Unsolicited pictures lacking consent."

"What is your point, Principal Burrows?" asked Marlene, feeling that the old man is about to drop into a tangent.

"The point is," he says, "is that these girls used their identities to their advantage. They illustrate the faultless stereotype of what a typical victim should be. Religious. White. If not white, then rich. Straight-A student. Injured by the working-class black 'drug dealer'. And 'drug dealer' is what the news have repeated more times than bodies in every fucking grave of the world." Principal Burrows clears his throat. "Apologies."