Sightless

Jacob Cooke

~ Fourteen Years Ago ~

"Do you know this man?"

"If you are pointing to the person I think you are, yes."

"What can you tell me about him?"

"The first time I met him, he seemed... not nice, but like an okay guy.

His name was Jacob Cooke, and he was an office manager at one of the big companies in the city. He only came down on weekends, since we lived a good hour away from his house and during the week he said he didn't have time to come and see us. Of course, it wasn't until the first trial that I found out that he had a wife, and three kids at home and every weekend, instead of going to their soccer games, or music concerts or whatever it was they were doing, he was coming over to spend time with us. 

He was trash in more ways than one."

"Objection!"

"Sustained. Ms. Genovese, please try not to say anything that isn't a fact."

"Sure. Anyway, when I first met him, he brought me a cupcake with blue icing. Mom had told him that cupcakes were my favorite treat, and at the time blue was my favorite color. He asked me if I would give him and Mom two hours of alone time, in return for the cupcake. Of course, I was six years old so I agreed and ran off into my room. 

I didn't realize it then, but they were shooting up heroin. I wouldn't have ever known, if they hadn't of left the spoons and the needles lying on the coffee table in the living room. I didn't know what it was for, and I didn't want to touch it, but it scared me, and I should have done something then, but I didn't. 

I didn't do anything when I heard him hit her the next weekend. 

Or the next weekend.

Or the weekend after that. 

And she didn't do anything when he hit me for leaving one of my toys in the hallway overnight. He tripped on it when he woke up that morning, and he drug me out of bed, and slapped me across the face. I didn't get to go to school for four days after that because my face was so swollen. 

But Mom didn't say anything, and neither did I. 

This went on for awhile I think. Not a year, because he wasn't around for my birthday, but it's hard to keep track of the time. I was young and it's been awhile since then. But he convinced her to send me to my Uncle David's house when he was on vacation so they could be alone together. I went, and after about a week Uncle David said he couldn't watch me anymore and sent me home. When I got there I didn't think anyone was home. I called for mom and she didn't answer. I went to my room, and it was all packed up and I didn't understand why. I looked for her again and I found her in the bathroom. She was lying in a pool of bleach mixed with blood. I think she tried to swallow it, I don't know but she didn't answer me when I tried to get her attention. I think she was dead. 

Jacob came in, and saw her. He got so angry. I asked what had happened to her, and he yelled at me. Said that it was my fault and that I was a bitch I think. I was crying so I don't remember exactly what he said, and like I said it was a long time ago. But I do know that he grabbed me by the hair and dragged me off of her. He dropped me on the floor next to the sink, plugged it and poured in the rest of the bleach and then he shoved my face into it. 

It burned, badly. I had been sobbing when he shoved me in so my mouth was open, and my eyes were too. They burned the worst, and every time I tried to close my eyes it hurt even worse. The skin rubbing against the eyes or something, I don't know. But when he pulled me out I puked up bleach. I could see for a minute, just long enough to see that I was puking up blood mixed with the bleach, and then I blinked and when I opened my eyes again it was all black. I couldn't see anything. 

I was screaming I think so I don't know if he said anything to me after that. Eventually Mr. Horvath, the paramedic, got me and took me to the hospital. I don't know what happened to Jacob after he pulled me out of the bleach. I'm sorry but that's all I know." 

"Thank you Megaera. That's all the questions I have for the witness your honor." 

"Mr. Kegan? Do you have any questions for the witness?" 

"I do. Ms. Genovese, you were six years old when these events occurred, correct?"

"Yes."

"And your honor, you have been a six year old correct...? Can you remember a single thing that happened to you when you were six years old?" 

"Objection!"

"To what? I'm just asking a simple question that calls into question this girl's entire testimony! She is twelve years old. How are we supposed to believe that she can remember a single thing from that night? Especially in such detail?" 

"Because it was a trauma. She will remember this trauma for the rest of her life. And it doesn't help her to forget when Mr. Cooke continues to appeal the court's decision! Your Honor, quite frankly I do not understand why this continues to happen. This is his third appeal in six years. And each appeal ends the same way. This man is convicted of attempted murder and second-degree assault. This is a young girl. Why are we continuously disrupting her life by making her relive this horrible experience every two years? It is cruel, and if this man didn't have so much damn money I cannot believe that we would be allowing this!" 

"Mr. O'Malley. Restrain yourself! However, Mr. Kegan, Mr. Cooke. I do agree with him. I do not know who signed off on this appeal, but I can guarantee it will be the last time. Mr. Cooke, the evidence against you is undeniable, and you have not come to us with any new evidence showing that you are innocent. You will continue to live out your thirty year sentence behind bars. You have twenty-four years left. Let's not add on anymore. Ms. Genovese, I am sorry that you were put through this experience again. I promise it will not happen again. This hearing is adjourned."