Testimony

Spring 2009

 

Testimony (extended excerpt)

By Marilynn Anater

I blindly let her help me down from the witness’ stand and guide me away from the judge’s bench. I close my eyes as we approach the defendant’s table, I don’t want to feel his eyes on me any longer.

Passing through the gate that separates the court arena from the gallery, I can feel a huge weight lifted off me and notice that my breathing is coming more easily. As we walk down the aisle to leave the courtroom, I see my parents dart back to their seats to grab their coats and belongings before following behind us. Yet all I can think about is how I still just want to get out, want to leave. I want to get out of the stifling room of grand columns, mahogany woodwork, and grated windows, and leave those piercing eyes behind.

~~~

It’s a smallish room that looks like a smiley face got sick off of happiness and splattered sunshine yellow on all the walls. In the middle of the room is a medium-sized wooden table with a chair on either side, clearly the family-friendly version of an interrogation room. Instead of being perfectly centered in the middle of the room, however, the table is offset so that each side faces one of the four corners of the room.

In the corner of the room opposite the door is a big armoire whose shelves are packed full of stuffed animals and dolls. At least they’re all smiling and staring past me instead of at me, I think to myself. I walk around the table and sit down so I’m facing the door. That’s something I’ve noticed that I always do now, position myself so I can face anything that is coming at me. I don’t like having my back to anyone now, and need to see what is going on around me. From my seat, I look over my shoulder and look at the animals lining the shelves. It’s quite a collection, both of old, worn animals, and fresh, new creatures that still had their tags attached. Plastic baby dolls, tattered teddy bears, a lion cub, a panda bear, even a giraffe were some of the many critters placed on the shelves. They weren’t just for aesthetics though, I almost missed it, but I could tell that there was a video camera positioned between the green Kermit the Frog and a Raggedy Ann doll that sat on the top shelf.

~~~

“Yes, he said he would turn around and not look.” Which he probably did, but I can’t be sure, I turned my back to him just in case.

“He stayed in the office while you changed?”

“Yes, he did.”

“Why didn’t you leave?”

“Because he told me that I couldn’t.” I tried to tell him that I could hide the shirt and that no one would see but he wouldn’t let me and he blocked the door. I didn’t want him to grab me and hold me back. I didn’t want him to touch me.

“So you tried the shirt on.”

“Yes, and it was too big.” I knew it would be, the shirts were all men’s’ sizes and were terribly boxy.

~~~

I barely whisper the final words. There, I said it. I feel my neck prickling and my ears ringing. It’s so embarrassing. It’s more embarrassing that it bothers me so much than that it actually happened. So many girls have already had sex by the time they are my age, but I hadn’t even been French kissed. Now I’m always going to think of having some guy over twice my age sticking his tongue down my throat, you always remember the first time for stuff like that.

“Should we take a break for a few minutes?” Donna offers.

I want to get out of here, I want to run home and cry myself to sleep in my own bed. But I want to stop thinking about it more; I want it to not bother me anymore. I want to stop feeling like the stupid idiot who was too retarded to see what was going on and too scared to do anything about it. I want to stop having regrets. “No,” I try to sound as convincing as I can but my voice cracks, “No, I think we should just finish.” I just want to get it over with, I want to hurry through it and be done.

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