Six
Two weeks.
Two weeks of being used as his fuck doll.
Two weeks of rushing out of the house, not getting to school fast enough.
Two weeks of worrying about the health tests that had been done—both through the clinic, but also with the Marine Corps.
When the doctor at the clinic had asked what happened, because apparently I was bruised and torn, I simply told her my boyfriend and I had gone at it rough, and that the condom breaking was the only reason I came in to see her. She had insisted on a rape kit—just as I insisted I wasn’t raped and refused it.
Knowing—without actually knowing—that she had brought it up to Marie, I knew the doctor didn’t believe my story, but other than the brief mention of it at lunch, Marie hadn’t brought it up again.
The tests from the clinic came back clean, thank God. Never had I thought I would be one of those girls who caught some STD or another after being assaulted. And God, if I got pregnant…
At least one thing was holding up for me, and that was my birth control. For now, anyhow.
…because my body continued to betray me every night.
It was embarrassing.
It was disgusting.
And I hated myself for it.
By day though, I tried hard to forget.
Thankfully, earlier in the week he left for another trip and hadn’t been back.
In addition to going to the clinic and working on being prepared for my upcoming finals, I completed a number of enlistment activities with the Marine Corps, including blood and urine tests—which didn’t bring up a surprise pregnancy—and a written test that told me what career choices I had.
I’m not sure what Marie told the courts, but everything was seemingly fast tracked there now, too. My emancipation was going through, making enlisting at seventeen possible. I chose an MOS—a military occupation specialty—and was given a ship date for late June, when I was originally told it could be two to twelve months before I left for boot camp.
I was going to be stuck in the current house for a couple weeks longer than I wanted but there was an end in sight.
I was studying at Starbucks one afternoon after school when Marie surprised me with a visit. We weren’t due for one for another week or so, before my emancipation hearing.
She pulled out the chair across from me, the same one she sat in a couple weeks prior, and watched as I finished a note in my finals study guide. When I looked over at her, she continued to stare at me.
“What?” I shifted uncomfortably in my seat.
“Are you doing ok, Genevieve?”
I nodded quickly. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
Again, she stared.
“As we previously discussed, I’ve had some things brought to my attention that concern me. From multiple sources,” she added.
I shook my head. “I’m fine, Marie,” I said, giving her a smile. I hoped it didn’t come off as forced as it felt. “I promise. Just a few more weeks.”
“If you’re having issues, we can get you out, move up your hearing,” she pressed.
Without giving her the words she wanted, I said, “It’d be stupid to move out now, wouldn’t it? Where am I going to go?”
“Are you being hurt?”
“Where am I going to go?” I repeated, my brows up and my lips tight.
She and I had a mini-stare down before I added, “Even if everything were moved up, where would I go? So I get emancipated quicker than planned. Where am I going to go?” My voice was starting to raise, panic most definitely tinging the words. I forced myself to calm down and lower it again. “It’s not like they can change my ship date.”
“You’ll have resources, Genna. We can set you up in a hotel, or even find a family willing to take you on—”
“The whole point of emancipation is to no longer be someone else’s burden, Marie.”
“For emergency purposes, we can move up your hearing. I can’t help you if you don’t open up to me. After the clinic, I had no choice but to start an investigation.”
An investi—
Suddenly, his business trip made sense.
It wasn’t business.
He was removed from his own house during an investigation against me. Against him.
My breath hitched in my chest as I recalled the sad look Tracy gave me the other morning. She even tried hugging me before school this morning.
And then there was Ryan, and the fact that he, who didn’t speak to me much anyway, seemed to go out of his way to avoid me.
They knew.
Or, they knew that a case was pending against their loved one.
Did they resent me? Did they want me out of the house? I was breaking up their family…
“With only the clinic and some interviews with people you know, but without your cooperation, there’s not much that can be done,” she continued. “Genevieve. Do you need to be removed from the Johnson household?”
She was asking if I was being abused in the house, but not necessarily telling me I had to confess to it.
I could.
I could lay the truth out.
Or…
Or I could leave quietly.
But if I did that, if I didn’t open up, what would happen? He would go back home to his pretty wife and perfect son. They’d foster another kid. And what if that next foster kid was another girl? I hadn’t been the first kid in their house; surely I wouldn’t be the last.
If I kept quiet, what would it feel like to know some other girl could potentially go through what I did? Could I live with that guilt?
But your body likes what he does to it.
A shudder wracked through me at the thought.
Rape was rape.
I felt my body heat at that. I was raped.
I was raped.
It was easy to ignore. Easy to place the blame on myself and my betraying body.
I was raped, and if I don’t say anything, someone else could be raped too.
“Genevieve.”
My eyes, which had been focused on the table in front of Marie, lifted to hers. From staring, my eyes were rough and dry, but seeing the kindness in Marie’s own eyes brought on a sting of tears. I wouldn’t let them fall though.
“Yes,” I finally whispered. “I need to leave the Johnson house.” I fought against the need to vomit as panic started to settle in.
“Please.”