The Consequence

The Trial

Three weeks have passed since but I couldn't get out of my room, I was scared, traumatized. My mother had to homeschool me. The more the days passed and the darker I got, Christelle was still in a coma and Jeremy was trying to cheer me up despite being so affected.

After a month and a half, Christelle was finally awake, when I found out, to hell with my fear, I rushed to see her at the hospital. Arriving at the hospital, my mother told me that she was awake but she was in a daze, so she still needed the breathing masks. Every day, I came to take care of her. I washed her, watched her and talked to her. Then and came the time when we took off her mask, she could finally breathe on her own.

During the day we talked about everything and nothing like before but at night, I woke up because of these cries, often I saw her near the window, knife in hand. Other times these nightmares were so real that she woke up screaming and crying. We had to put him on sedatives. I felt so bad and helpless. I couldn't help but think "If only we hadn't left, if only I had stayed with her that day, if only I had seen this guy before leaving, I would have warned Christelle that there was still a teacher" always the IF's and the regrets. 

I could only complain to myself. And as if that weren't enough, the nurses who are supposed to help their patient only pointed the finger at Christelle, accusing her of having teased her teacher, of having gotten what she deserved and that they saw students like her before. Those who seduced their teachers and came to pretend to be victims. Designating him as guilty of his misfortune. Of course, they all did and said that when Aunt Mikaela was not there. I had tried to tell her, but sadly she was too emotional to really listen to me

More than four months passed and Christelle had become more and more withdrawn. She no longer spoke to anyone, her mother or me. We were worried but we let her take her time, until the day she did it, she slit her wrists. Fortunately, the doctor came in time. Meanwhile, Jeremy had no choice but to continue his studies and was accepted at Harvard. He didn't want to leave but after our encouragement and our reassurances he left, but before he came to spend one last day with us and we had a lot of fun despite the gloomy air of the hospital. After goodbyes and hugs, he left. He writes to us very often.

After more than six months, Christelle was finally able to leave the hospital. Unfortunately, after arriving home, she had a fit of hysteria and started destroying her room. Breaking objects, throwing her clothes, tearing her sheets.

 Days after her attack she went into intense depression, no male could touch her nor come near her. The police had finally got their hands-on Mr. Gringo who was said to have tried to flee by boat, typical. 

He was going to stand trial the next day and the police strongly insisted that she attend the process, but it was a horrible idea.  As soon as she entered, strangers in the assembly stared and whispered horrors about Christelle and how she let herself get molested and is pretending to be victime now and to make matters worse, the professor accused her of everything. Screaming and accusing her of seducing him and then trying to murder him and that he only defended himself, and how the raping part was consensual, that he was even threatened. She could not bear this pressure and fainted. We immediately rushed to take her, her mom was on the verge of murdering the people in that court and so was I. She was immediately taken to the hospital, when Gringo, with all the evidence against him, took 75 years in prison without appeal.

But I still taught that 75 years was still not enough for what he did.