The Journal Of Sara Revol

The Next Day

I heard sirens outside my house in the morning when I left the message at the station since it was closed. I woke up and cautiously stepped out of my futon trying not to wake the sleeping beauty that snuggled up to me last night. I didn't know E.J. was a cuddler. As I slowly left the room determined not to wake anyone I went downstairs scared and relieved to find my dad the way I left him. 

His pants and underwear around his ankles past out on the couch and I think my mom was passed out on the floor from where she was thrown. I ran out the front door to talk to the officer at hand. 

"I'm Sara Revol. I called you last night I'm so glad to see that you've come. I was terrified last night," I said. 

"Ma'am we got your message the detective working on this case is over there in the white shirt and green vest. You said there were witnesses and other hostages; where are they?" he asked.

"They are on the second floor third room to the right and my father, the assailant, is passed out in the sitting room and my m-" I cut myself off remembering she isn't my birth mom continuing, " his wife is passed out on the floor."

The officer looks at me with his narrowed, brown eyes and then gestures a squad to move in. I go and confront the heavily sleep exhausted Detective Anthony Snowe. His peppered hair makes him look older than I thought. It looked good with his soft, brown eyes they almost look innocent. He was wearing khakis and a white long sleeved dress shirt underneath a green best and bow tie. 

He asked me and my friends and brother when they had come downstairs and outside what had happened in their point of view my father was brought into custody or at least he was being held for a few days at the station. After a couple days of interrogations we had the court meeting. 

"Sir how do you plead?" said the judge, ready to be done with the case.

My father looks around the court room and sees Johnny, E.J., Shelby and I. I finish signing to Shelby about the court and he was staring at me. He grinned like he was undressing me with his eyes and rubbing my body. I shivered at the thought of my father feeling me up. Gross pervert.

"I'd like to say that I wish I'd shot my son and rapped my disgrace of a daughter. She looks so much Iike her mother it's hard to resist playing her like a guitar and smashing it on stage. I plead guilty. However I am also a veteran who was shot into the head bullet going straight through and the doctor did say I'd go through or strange irrational behavior," said the man on trial. It physically hurts and disgusts me that he is my father.

After a few days in prison they moved him to a 20 year sentence in a psychiatric hospital for PTSD treatment and all his riches were accorded to me and my brother since my mother had died from serious whiplash when my father struck her. (She was always very fragile.) He should have gotten the death penalty if you ask me. 

My case was all over the news. I had paparazzi on my lawn 24/7 and articles of the incident hit CNN and all the news stations and newspapers in Maine. It also hit Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and many other social media sites. I was glad though to see so many people giving my family condolences and saying the things they did, but it wasn't so comforting to see the people on my school website trashing me. 

Shala posted an article on Facebook with a caption saying, "THIS ATTENTION WHORE! Look she's already made the news with this pathetic story. I feel bad for E.J. he's actually friends with the little bitch. She is trying to sound innocent and sweet like she and her misfit deaf bestie are the victims. Kudos to E.J. and Johnny for stepping in when they did though. Then I wouldn't have the pleasure is of breaking down this bitch." 

400 comments and only 20ish% actually stood up for me in a little way telling her to "STFU!" and other things along those lines. The stuff E.J. and Johnny had said though made me want to cry from all the positives they said. E.J. Even reported her to the website for harassment but it was discarded because nothing bad necessarily was written about him or Johnny. Opposed from that 20% that kinda cared were 80% telling me to kill myself and that I'm worthless and that I should be hospitalized instead of my father. 

For weeks I cried myself to sleep and had nightmares of him coming back and "finishing the job" some would say. I barely slept or ate at all. Johnny and I are still living in our house but it feels so empty without my mother. Shelby had moved in and E.J.'s mother had kicked him out and they were living with us. Shelby for being deaf got sent 600$ a month. E.J. was paying to stay with us or at least for groceries and other home necessities.  

Eventually we had to start paying for this kind of nightmare pill that allows you to forget your nightmares upon sleeping. Xylophin was its name. I took two every night upon sleeping. It worked well for sleeping but when I was awake I was constantly reminded by Shala and her followers of over 3,000 likes and 1,400 comments and growing numbers of what happened to me. When school started up again it only got worse what was happening with Shala was now continuous from many assholes all around the school. 

"I'm sick of being treated like this," I signed to Shelby,"Why is everyone doing this? What reason do they have to do this thinking it's okay?" 

Shelby couldn't answer me.

Later that night I was in my room trying to sleep without my pills. I shouldn't have to rely on medications to make me feel better. After a few hours I dreamt of him in his patient psychiatric uniform holding me down muffling my screams and filling me with him and then shortly after putting bullets in my head and Johnny's. I awoke screaming and crying tired of it.I ran into the bathroom in tears of my nightmare and chocked down the rest of my prescription. E.J. Saw me from the hall. 

"Sara!" I heard faintly. He called the doctor and we were on our way into the building from the parking lot when it was lights out.