Finally, the night is here. She is sleeping safely in her bed and we can finally exhale and put the happy faces away , the happy faces we are learning to put on when she is around. This is what we have become- two bad actors in some freaky movie about someone else not us. It certainly cannot be us for the rest of our lives.
I keep telling myself all the right words , like- what happened to her should not define her or us; we did a right thing to report him; we are not guilty- he did it not us. But why in the world all these right words are not helping? They are just words for now, may be at some point they will make sense, but i repeat them over and over again .
Today we've learned that her offender was released under the bond to his mother's custody until the trial, second hearing is scheduled for the mid. December. I don't know what and how to feel about that. I don't feel anything but rage and hatred toward him. He is certainly not a boy that I used to take to Trick-a-treat , or watch playing with my son, or when they all learned how to swim and paddled helplessly in the pool. He is not the boy that we all used to worry about because of the family situation. He is a monster, who I didn't recognize when i hugged him welcoming back into our life. He is a sick pervert who looked at my little girl and saw an easy target not his little cousin. And now he is out there in the safety of his no less pervasive mother thinking he might get away again. He is out and we are still in hell.
My husband told me that most likely they let him out because of the overpopulation of the facilities, that there are more dangerous youngsters there , who are killers. What's the difference? He killed us too. Not physically, but he did, because the people we were that day in the morning are gone forever. We will eventually learn how to function ,smile and mean it, but we will never be the same, for the rest of our lives we will remember what he had done, for the rest of our lives we will have the memories of us siting there and questioning her and getting sick and the memories of the detective questioning her and the memory of the agony and desperation. For the rest of our lives we will have the fear for her, not just a fear what might happen , but not necessarily should - the real fear of what had already happened and how and when it will fire back at us and we will watch her development wondering if it will affect her, does she remember or not.
He keeps telling me, if I change i will give my enemy a power over me. What he doesn't understand that it's too late. I am building a new me, because the other one is just gone. Last night and today I desperately tried to find me by trying to get back to the familiar routine. After everyone went to sleep I fixed me a cup of hot tea and made myself to sit down and open my favorite blogs and FB. I couldn't understand what were my friends writing there, what was that about their jokes that i couldn't get it anymore. I decided to try again in the morning and it was the same. I saw a little post by one of my good friend complaining about her little daughter not sleeping through the night , i wanted to scream at her - Be happy she is safe with you, be happy that sleep deprivation is the only thing you are upset about.
I would take and embrace every single sleepless night for what i have now. I wanted to scream at all of them. But it's not their fault, it's me who doesn't fit in their world anymore . That world used to be mine, now i have a new one to live in. Ny world is scary and dark and full of pain. So I did the only logical thing i could think about- I deleted myself from every single online community. The strangest thing was that I felt a need to write a little notes to some of my virtual friends with some explanation, but i couldn't bring myself to say good bye to my friends who i know personally. I just dropped dead out of their lives. May be I subconsciously didn't shut the door hoping to use it to come back one day.