She wanted to throw up, she really did. But there was nothing left in her stomach. Her Calliope wasn't allowed to stay with her. And they were going to be there. They were both going to be there, in the same room with her. She thought she would go numb today, but she hadn't yet. Control. She needed control. Her nails were on her skin, digging into her arm. She needed blood. She needed to see blood, to feel the blood running over her skin. There wasn't anything sharp in the bathroom, so she dug. The blood ran, a small spring, and she felt an immediate release in pressure. She gasped, and smiled. There was a knock and she quickly grabbed paper towels and pressed them to her arm.
"Arizona are you ready?" the lawyer poked her head in.
"Yeah, I, uh, cut myself. You wouldn't happen to have a band aid would you?" she asked. The lawyer found her one and they headed out to the courtroom.
It was too much. She couldn't see her Calliope, she was behind her. She needed to see Calliope. Calliope would make it better. They weren't in the room yet. She hadn't seen them yet. But it was only a matter of time before they were brought in. Her nails were digging into her palms from her fists, clenched beneath the table. Her palms were sweaty. It was hot. The outfit Calliope had picked for her to wear was itchy and restricting. Then she heard it. The wolf whistle.
"Hey baby, you looked better naked," Whitney called out.
There was a scuffle and without turning around she knew Callie had tried to get to her. Images flashed through her head, she shivered. They're in handcuffs, with police around them. They can't get to you. She couldn't look at them. They would get into her head again.
"What, bitch, you aren't happy to see me?" She called out again.
"That's it," she heard Callie call out. "Someone shut her up or I will."
"You want some of this too baby?" She called.
Don't Calliope, don't do it. Stop Calliope. I need you here. I need you to help me. Callie stop. She didn't hear anything else come out of Calliope's mouth so she breathed again. It was too much. This is too much. I can't do this. I can't do this.
They are there, right in front of me. Penny is staring me down; Whitney keeps flicking her gaze around the room, landing on me every now and then. Penny looks happy, like this is just another step for her. She thinks she still has me, and maybe she's right.
"Callie!"
The prosecutor has asked me the same question three times. My eyes find Calliope in the crowd. She won't be giving testimony today. They ask the question again. Callie nods and I answer. I don't even know what I'm answering. Calliope gives me a thumbs up. I'm scared. The fear is caging me in and I feel claustrophobic. I know I'm sweating. Will I get punished for this tonight? No, Calliope won't punish me. I have to keep telling myself that. Mistakes are allowed.
"Arizona, I need you to give a brief account of what happened to you."
I nod and I keep my eyes on Calliope as I tell the whole room how I was brutally attacked. I remember that day so well. It had been a nice day and I was preparing myself dinner to watch the TED conference. Then she came. That was nothing compared to what I had been forced to endure after my kidnapping. I almost would have rather they killed me. I spent a year in agony at their hands and it only continued after my rescue while I recovered from the severe beatings and malnutrition. I still feel the effects every day. I'm not sure what all I actually say, but it seems to please the prosecutor and Callie
smiles.
I gave up on her. I did. I gave up on me, but I gave up on her ever finding me. I figured that she probably assumed I was dead and had grieved and moved on. Even the limited television airings I had seen were not enough to convince me. I had never been able to pay much attention to them anyway; I was being beaten while watching, while being forced to watch.
Today was just opening statements and administrative details. But tomorrow they were going to want details and I could provide them. Calliope, Dr. Sayles, and I had discussed most of the things that had happened to me. The beatings were all the same. The rapes and other ways they tortured me, those were different. Those were much different.
