It's just gone 1AM on Saturday morning. I am yet to fall asleep. I want to stay up until I am absolutely exhausted, so that I'll be too tired to dream (or to remember my dreams). I don't want to dream about him.
I was on edge all day yesterday (Friday). I tried to eat, but couldn't bring myself to stomach more than a few bites. I tried to busy myself with anything - but I kept thinking about what lay ahead. I was dreading it and just wanted it to be over.
Finally, the time came to drive to the identification unit of the police station (the detective on my case was kind enough to travel up here, instead of me having to travel down there). I sat in the car and my Mum (Dad drove down in his car) keyed in the address on the SatNav. I got a shock when she said the name of the street that the station was on - it was his name. I thought that must be an omen, but couldn't decide whether it was good or bad.
I also think I may have damaged my Mum's hearing - I played my music extremely loud and sang (or rather, shouted) along with the songs. I wanted the music to drown out my thoughts.
Eventually we arrived at the station and one of the officers led the three of us in to a waiting room. I tried to distract myself by reading the posters that was up on the wall.
One of the posters was of four handwritten letters, sent by children. The children had obviously been on a school trip to the station. It said something along the lines of 'I had a great time and enjoyed standing in the line-up. I was number 7 and my friend was number 8. I hope I never have to be in that room again.'
That got me thinking. None of us imagine having anything bad happen to them, and none of us can imagine doing anything that warrants them a trip to the police station. I know I certainly didn't imagine myself standing in a police station waiting to identify the man that groomed, exploited and raped me. And I'm sure he would never have thought himself capable of doing that. He was once a child himself - what had he been like? What made him turn in to the monster that he is?
Then another officer came and led me into a separate room. I had to answer some routine questions and then I was told to face the computer. I was told that 9 short video clips will be played. I wasn't to comment or say anything until they had played through twice. The videos started playing. I was nervous. I was so scared I wouldn't recognise him.
Number one - it wasn't him. Number two - not him. Number three - looked a bit like him, but not really. Number four - not him. By this point I'm thinking 'oh God, what if he's not here? What if he is and I just haven't recognised him?'. Number 5 - I stop breathing. It's him. My mind goes blank, I can just see him. He's changed over the years, but it's definitely him. I barely even notice the other 4 people.
After the second time, the officer asks if I would like to see any clips again. I say number 5. I need to see him again. I don't want to - but I need to. This is the first time in six years that I've seen him - I want to scream at him, I want to shout. I want to see if he has a conscience. I want to know that he knows that what he did was wrong and hurt and changed me in so many ways. But of course - none of this happens. All I'm looking at is a 15 second video clip.
I identify him as the man that raped me. I am then led back in to the waiting room. My parents asked me how it went - I couldn't answer them, I had to rush to the toilet. I sat over the toilet, dry heaving. I felt sick to my stomach. Seeing him had completely thrown me. I realised though that I wasn't going to be sick, as I had an empty stomach.
Sitting back with my parents, we waited for the detective on my case to join us. It's a new detective that I haven't met before, as the other one has been promoted and is no longer in the same unit. I like the new detective, she seems very nice and a hard-ass - the perfect mix. I like that she's fighting with me, I like that she wants to see him punished.
She said that yes, I had identified the man that they had arrested. I breathed a sigh of relief - by this point I had been second-guessing myself. 'What if I picked the wrong man?' I didn't think I had, but the insecurity was there.
Now it's just a waiting game. Waiting for more evidence to be collected. Waiting for reports to be filed. Waiting for, hopefully, charges to be filed. The detective thinks that it will all be finished in less than 6 months.
Right now, my head is all over the place. I still feel slightly sick about seeing him. I feel relieved that that part is over. Angry at him. I'm also aware that it's not just me he has to deal with - it's my family, my friends and the police. I am not in this alone. He will never be able to hurt me again.
Yet every time I close my eyes, I can see him staring out at me from inside the computer. It felt like he was looking right at me. And I stared straight back at him.
I'm ready to fight him. I'm done hiding away from him. He knew me as a weak girl - he's going to get a shock when he realises I am a strong woman.
Me
:-)
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