9 minutes was all it took. Just 540 seconds to go through the awful, damaging things he had done. Less than ten minutes of questioning was OK to them back then. A handful of one word answers were an adequate response to my suffering. Yesterday I spoke to the Detective who is investigating my report of…
Category: Prosecuting my abuser
Waiting for the avalanche
I wrote a few days ago to explain why I’ve not been writing much. One of the reasons for this was the police video statement I had to give on Tuesday. I wasn’t sure I could share that news until I’d got the go ahead from the Detective in charge of my case. What came before the…
I’m reconnecting
Hello there. I’ve been distant for a while, apologies for that. I’m going to explain why. In fact I am going to explain part of why, because the whole of why is far too big to summarise in just one post. I’ve made some major changes recently, and taken some huge steps. As said steps…
I will never be ready
When I awoke today there were long shadows Accompanying my footsteps they followed me into the cool morning. Patches of crystals here and there revealed how the frost had caressed the grass secretly overnight. Just as for many months those cold tendrils have crept into my sleep, Bringing echoes of the unsaid to reverberate in…
What could justice mean?
For a long while, I thought getting my brother convicted for sexually abusing me when I was little would just be about vengeance. I could only see it as my wanting to make him suffer, and I don’t want to be the kind of person that inflicts suffering on another. Even if a person deserves to suffer,…
I will be heard
I’m not quite sure where to start. I’m reeling from the shock of my brother’s letter this week. And obsessively turning his words over and over in my head. Searching for something deep, or loving. Scouring those few little paragraphs for any shred of kindness. All I can see is this breathtaking selfishness. After writing…
blackspotsite 