manah manah
• Wednesday 28 June 2006 - Hard: bad, callous, difficult, effortful, unfair, unpleasant.
Hard /had/ (adj) difficult to do or accomplish; fatiguing; troublesome: a hard task. difficult to deal with, manage, control, overcome, or understand: a hard problem. involved or performed with great exhertion, energy, or persistence: hard work. unpleasant; unfair; bad: hard luck. austere; uncomfortable; causing pain, poverty, etc: hard times. incapable of being denied or explained away: hard facts. based on solid evidence; factual: hard information. harshly or severely; badly; gallingly: it goes hard.
Oh, why do some things that sound simple and straight-forward turn out to be so hard when you get down to the nitty-gritty? The job of putting words on paper is not usually one that I easily shy away from. I consider myself to be a relatively intelligent being, I'm fairly level-headed and reasonably elloquent, so why is this so hard to start? Why am I feeling so anxious? Why does my heart start racing whenever I think about it? Why are my hands shaking? Why do I sit in front of a blank screen and just stare at it? Why do I constantly feel like I'm just two breaths away from crying? Why can't I sleep properly? Why am I getting no feelings of calm from the cigarettes that I'm chain-smoking? Why are my thoughts so hard to control? Why do I think about this constantly, yet when I decide to apply myself, why do all the thoughts disappear? What happens if I don't get this right? Why is it that I'm doubting my ability to vocalise the facts? Why am I doubting myself at all, for that matter? Why is it that I have so many irrational fears? Why can't I be stronger? Why can't I just tell myself that this is something that needs to be done, and do it regardless of how I feel? Why do the demons that haunt me jump out at the most inconvenient times? Why are they still there? Why isn't the world and all the beings on it good and pure? Why aren't things just right and perfect already? Why has this happened? Why do I have to go through this? Why am I being so self-centred? Why did she have to go through this? What else will she have to endure? Why is it all so hard?
Forgive me... my head is all over the shop again. I have an unwelcome job ahead of me. I have to write out a victim impact statement for someone very close and dear to me. Someone who is good and sweet, and should never have had to endure what she did. A child, no less. A little girl who is just one of the untold number of faceless little girls who are victims of sex crimes. A child who is a number on a page somewhere in some office of law. A child with a beautiful face that will never again hold the pure innocence that she is entitled to. A child with a face that most will never see, or even think about. A child who has no legal voice of her own, nor the acquired knowledge needed to convey the monstrosity of this event. A child who has been through so much, and remains so strong... and yet has times of fragility that is purely heart-breaking. A little girl who has been denied the pure joy of just being a little girl with no worries except the frivolous and petty worries of inocent little girls.
The case date has been set. Finally. It took three years. Can you believe that? THREE YEARS! Yet, if she'd been an adult it would have been much less. The victim's voice would have been louder and easier to understand. The evidence would have been clearer. The impact would have been perceived as being greater. The case would have been processed more quickly. And he would have been in jail within the month. Instead, she has been left to deal with her shame, guilt, fear, self-doubt and horrific nightmares for three years. In this time she's had body image issues, has developed anger management issues, has lost her faith in human nature, has gone through a stage of self-mutilation and even contemplated taking her own life. In this time she has dealt with three different support liason officers, four different legal representatives, countless police representatives, has given three statements, has attended three different court appearances, has been questioned and cross-examined, accused, shamed, and even blamed. Her case has been delayed twice due to clever legal representation... and to some extent by the inconvenience it might cause the workers within the system. Is this even anywhere close to being fair?
And apart from a few uncomfortable hours in a police station, he's been out on the street the whole time. He even did it again in that time, to one girl that I know of... and that I only found out by chance. Who knows how many others went through the same thing in the last three years. It's hard to get information regarding cases such as this... the privacy act, you know... wouldn't want to spill too many beans on someone... monster or not.
I've personally seen him in public three times... but he's free to come and go wherever he wants as he pleases. The first time was in a supermarket. He had this smirk on his face that said to me "Look at me, walking free. Aren't I clever?" I looked at him and saw red. I started to walk towards him and I remember my son grabbing me by the arm to stop me. My face must have said something to the effect of "I want to rip your heart out and shove it up your ass," because the smirk disappeared and he all but ran away from me. The second time was at the hospital. He'd injured his hand somehow... I don't care how. I was with a friend and her daughter. I started a scene. The words I spoke were aimed at my friend, but I never took my eyes off of him. "Where's your daughter? Don't take your eyes of her, not for a second. There's a filthy piece of paedophile scum in this room"... something to that effect, anyway. I said it loud enough for everyone in the waiting room to hear. People looked at me... people looked at him... they all murmered amongst themselves. I didn't care. I just stared at him until he left... untreated. I was told later that he could have had me charged for that, but he didn't. The third time was at the first court appearance, the committal hearing. He was sitting outside the courtroom with his lawyer. I didn't say anything to him this time, but I walked very, very slowly past him, staring at him and daring him to even look at me. He glanced at me once, then dropped his eyes and refused to look at me again. Until then he was smiling... afterwards his face was palid and he looked terrified.... his hands started to shake. I'm glad. Even when I entered the court room and gave my evidence he kept his eyes down. I was clear... concise... I kept my face even, but I kept my eyes on him for every second... and I could see that he was shit scared of me. He was more scared of me than he was of the system. After that his lawyers made sure that he was nowhere to be seen when he came to court... hidden away from me.
But now I'm afraid to do what needs to be done. The hardest part... or the part that most would consider to be the hardest... is behind us. But I'm still afraid. I'm afraid of what I have to write. I'm afraid that I won't be able to convey the impact that this has had on her life sufficiently. I don't have much faith in the system, you see. I'm worried that he won't get the punishment that he deserves. I'm scared that this little girl won't get the justice that she deserves... that she will be pushed under the rug. I'm terrified that her ordeal will be trivialised so much that she will never see that justice has been done. How can that be a fair and just judicial system, when the victims are more worried about the outcome than the perpetrator of the crime? Is there any wonder that I'm so worried about saying the right thing? About getting it wrong and letting her down?
I have to go. I have work to do. I have to do this. Close your eyes and send me your love, or caring, or prayers, or good vibes, or well wishes... whatever you choose to call it. Wish me luck, and send me strength......
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• Wednesday 28 June 2006 - Through tears...
Have spent day thinking of similar things......it's hell.
Be strong for that little girl Tina, be strong.
Have faith in yourself
xx