HAVING 13 - Johnny Kavanagh

47. Clean

WARNING
When the letter starts, there are mentions of sensitive subjects such as sexual assault and domestic abuse.

MISSY
May 19th 2005

I think I'm finally gonna be okay, was what I wrote in my diary after coming back home.

Edel fussed a bunch over me, then also gentle-parented me about not coming and going how I pleased. I told her I understood and that I wasn't used to people caring about my presence.

When I went missing, I went to the hairdresser and dyed my hair back, and I tried to let my guard down just a little bit more, and I already felt a little like I was becoming myself again.

When I realised Johnny knew, I was angry. Furious, even.

Afterwards, when I got the time to think—and I had a lot of time—I came to the conclusion that I was secure now. He cared because he wanted me to be okay.

People loved me. I lived in a stable home, my siblings were happier.

And when you try to work on yourself, you immediately start to feel hopeful.

It wouldn't just happen in a day, though. I knew I had to work hard for this. And I would, because I realised this life was worth living.

There were so many people who would have been sad without me.

I'd also decided to tell John, my soon-to-be adoptive father, about what Teddy did to me. It made sense to tell him of all people, I thought, because he was a barrister and Johnny said he had great advice.

I took a deep breath. Edel had calmed down by eleven at night, and I could see the light still peeking from under John's office door.

This house felt so homely. I felt like I could walk through the halls at night and not be sprung upon. I even considered getting a midnight snack at times.

I felt better after being here for weeks than I ever felt during my seventeen years on Elk's Terrace.

But this had to be done, because I knew my sick mind, and I knew it would make me pull back from this and keep to myself again if I didn't do it now.

I knocked three times.

"Come in," John said.

I opened the door and closed it behind me, leaning against it then. "Hi."

"Missy, I've said it already, but I'm glad you got home safe," He smiled gently. He already expected me to come in and talk to him, I assumed.

"Thanks, me too." I nodded. "Ehm, so, I have some legal questions."

He stood up and gestured towards an armchair, while sitting down in an identical one himself, opposite to the other.

I sat down. "So, uh, if someone's dead, can they still be, like, acknowledged as a criminal after their death?"

I knew the answer. I still had to ask.

He sighed. "No. Law is focused on living individuals who can be held accountable."

I bit my lip.

"But even so, you can still tell me what happened," He told me. "Your brother's definitely going to therapy after rehab, so if you want to talk to someone, we can get that for you. Don't forget that Edel and I always here for you and your siblings."

I took a deep breath in. "I wrote a letter. Months ago. I took it with me when I went to the house to get the kids out the day of the fire."

He nodded, keeping a calm head.

"It's about everything that happened. I wrote it in the hospital after Johnny's injury..." I fished the envelope out of my back pocket. I didn't open it. I held it out to him. "It was for you in case I died in that house. So you had evidence."

He took it from my hand. "Thank you for trusting me with this, Missy."

"Take your time," I whispered.

•

To John Kavanagh,

Use this for legal reasons if I were to die in the Lynch house:

This letter was written by Melissa Lynch. My first name is not mine, but for formalities, it's Theodora.

If I am dead by now, my father has killed me. His name is Theodore Lynch.

I've never written anything like this before. I don't think anyone ever should have to. What I'm trying to say is, I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know if this is can be used as evidence or whatever.

The only way I get out of this house will be either his death or mine.

WHAT HE DID
So, make it known that my father abuses all of my siblings and I, physically and emotionally.

Our mother is largely complicit on the emotional part of it, even though she's also abused in every way you could define the word.

Also make it known that my father sexually abused me for nearly three years. He rapes me at least once every month. He has continued to do this until the week in which I am writing this letter, which was the last week of March 2005. I don't know what the future looks like.

I am writing this in the emergency room after your son, Johnny had a sports accident. I will return to the house late. My father won't like this. He might actually kill one of us this time.

IDENTIFY ME
In case you have to find my body, I am identifiable by my blue flowing river tattoo on the side of my torso. I have naturally blonde hair but I dye it fully brown. It reaches the middle of my back. I have brown eyes. There is a red splotchy birthmark on my shoulder. I have scars across my back and arms.

THE CONSEQUENCES
The pain that he has caused me; genital injuries which resulted in me not being able to have children, multiple broken bones, several concussions, scars for a lifetime.

And a shit ton of emotional turmoil. I never feel safe. I always feel like I'm under attack and I'm in a constant state of fight-or-flight. I have tried to end my life before because of him.

TAGGART BRADY
This adult man raped me when I was a child, and he manipulated me into basically living with him and dating him for a year. He would punch or kick me at times. He also needs to be locked up.

He got me, a minor, pregnant and pushed me down the stairs. I had a miscarriage.

In the envelope, there are also pictures of Theodore and Taggart's doings.

To those I love, thanks for sticking around.

Kind regards,
Mel