Unclutter, page 10
“Hi, my name is Tina Lauren, and I want to lodge a complaint for se-sexual assault.”
The officer led me into a room with glass doors but no windows and asked me to wait for another officer who would help me. I played with my bee pendant nervously as I waited. I stood rooted to my spot, staring at the table and two chairs that were placed at the center of the room. There was nothing else on the table other than a landline phone and a pen stand. The walls were gray, the same gloomy color as the concrete floor. There was an eerie silence in the room except for a large gray clock’s second hand ticking loudly. For a space that was meant for assault survivors to talk about their experience, it felt too intimidating.
I heard the door open, and a policewoman walked inside with a laptop. “Hello, I’m Officer Lee, and I will be helping you file a complaint today. Please take a seat.”
I sat down across from her obediently, unable to even greet her.
“Let’s start with some personal information to fill these forms,” Officer Lee said.
I nodded in response.
“What’s your name?”
“T-Tina Lauren,” I replied.
I clenched my fists and closed my eyes tightly to stop myself from stuttering. I was struggling even with monosyllable responses to the questions, but Officer Lee didn’t seem to notice my difficulty and continued typing on her laptop.
“Where and how did the perpetrator sexually assault you today?”
“Uh… Um…”
Officer Lee looked up at me from her laptop and gave me a tight smile. “It’s alright. Take your time.”
My mind went numb.
It was blank.
It refused to remember the assault at the SCF fundraiser today.
I could only hear the wall clock ticking away.
Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock.
“Why don’t you try writing down what happened instead?” Officer Lee placed a sheet of paper and a pen in front of me. “I will be right back.”
I nodded and picked up the pen with trembling hands, watching mutely as the police officer left the room. I tried to rack my brains on the details of the incident earlier, but I got nothing.
No memories. No inner voice. Not even the usual annoying cacophony of pessimistic voices inside my mind.
Only tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock.
I threw the pen in frustration and ran out of the police station, embarrassed at my inability to press charges. No, it was worse than that. I couldn’t speak. I opened my mouth, but no words came out.
Desperately, I fished around my overalls for my pocketknife, but it wasn’t there.
I thought I was over that phase of hurting myself.
But that’s the only thing that can calm me down now.
I wouldn’t be resorting to my old methods if I hadn’t gone blank in there.
I am so pathetic.
Nicholas Parker is right. I am his pathetic prey.
No. No way. I am not his pathetic prey. And nothing, absolutely nothing is worth harming myself. My inner voice finally spoke up, loud and clear.
I collapsed on a sidewalk bench and let my tears flow. I wept silently with my head bent, holding my face in my hands.
Finally, I felt someone tap my shoulder gently, and I got up with a start.
“Sorry I startled you. Are you okay?” Officer Lee asked, looking concerned.
I shook my head but still could not speak.
“I know it’s really hard to talk about a sexual assault experience, and it’s alright if you’re not able to press charges against the perpetrator today. You can do it any time in the future, because there is no statutory limit for sexual crimes in Strollfield,” Officer Lee explained.
I nodded, grateful that I had another chance to get justice.
“Also, you can get a sexual assault evidence collection kit at any of these healthcare centers.” She handed me a sheet of paper that had a list where this service was available. “These centers have trained sexual assault nurse examiners, who will collect samples that can be used as evidence against the perp. But remember, you need to press charges within the next six months to use the samples in court. Otherwise, the centers will discard them.”
A light of hope stirred in my heart, and I smiled hopefully. “Th-Thank you.”
Chapter 14
I breathed deeply and calmed myself down, feeling a little better that I still had ways to nab Nicholas Parker. I skimmed through the list of healthcare centers where the kits were available and was relieved to see the one Jai worked at. Luckily, it was only a two-minute walk from my current location and it was almost lunch time. I tried his number, and he picked up on the first ring.
“I need your help. It’s urgent. Can we meet?”
“Tina, what happened? Are you alright?” Jai asked, sounding worried.
I shook my head. “No, I am not alright.”
Jai met me at the café outside the healthcare center. He had bought me a hot chocolate and was waiting at a corner table. I sat down and took a long sip of the hot beverage, closing my eyes as the liquid comforted my throat.
“Are you feeling better now?” Jai asked me in a soothing voice. “Can you tell me what happened?”
Slowly, I peeled the Band-Aid on my neck to the side and showed him the bite mark. “Nicholas Parker.”
Jai clenched his fists. “That sicko should be in jail.”
I laughed humorlessly. “He said so himself. ‘Try. You’ll fail.’”
Jai shook his head. “I wish I could rip that smug smirk off his face.”
“That’s why I’m here,” I stated. “I went to the police station to lodge a complaint, but I couldn’t even utter a word. My mind went blank.”
“What you went through was a lot. Give yourself some time,” Jai said, squeezing my hand reassuringly. “I can come with you the next time you want press charges, if you like. Just to be with you.”
My eyes welled up. This was why Jai Rao was my best friend.
I blinked back my tears. “Thanks. That would mean a lot.” I unfolded the sheet of paper Officer Lee had given me and pushed it toward Jai. “Actually, can you accompany me now?”
He glanced at the paper, and once he understood what it was, Jai got up from his seat immediately. “Let me inform my supervisor that I’m taking an extended break. I will be right back.”
When Jai came back, I followed him to the room where se-sexual assault examinations were conducted. I felt dizzy as I fretted about the procedure, half-wishing to run away, but my legs blindly fell in step behind Jai’s, affirming my determination to nab the abuser.
At the entrance, I was asked to fill a form with all my personal information and details of the incident. I breezed through most of the form, reassured by my best friend’s presence.
When I had to fill in the “nature of assault,” the seriousness of the criminal offense registered in my mind as I wrote slowly, “a-t-t-e-m-p-t-e-d r-a-p-e.”
My fear was replaced by an overpowering rage. I clenched my fists as I headed to the changing room to get ready for the examination.
“Here, change into these.” A lady handed me two hospital gowns outside the changing room. “Remove all your clothes, including your underwear first.”
I unfolded the two gowns and frowned. “This won’t be enough to cover me up. Can I have a shawl please?”
The lady snickered. “Now you want to cover up? What’s the use? If you had done so earlier, you wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place.”
Her words stung, even though they were untrue. Couldn’t she see I was in overalls, covered from head to toe? Even if I was scantily clad, how was my outfit an excuse to be assaulted? But I had no strength to argue.
I sighed and changed into the gowns, shuddering at the thought of the snide remarks this woman may have made to other survivors who were in worse pain than me. Not only did we have to deal with the trauma of the incident, but we had to face insensitive people who blamed us victims for the abuse.
I peeked out from the changing room to check if the nurse examiner was there yet. There was no way I was going to step outside in these clothes. One of the gowns was open at the back and the one that went on top of it wasn’t enough to cover my body. I tugged at the ends of the “coat” gown to conceal my chest.
“Are you here for the sexual assault forensic exam?” a woman in scrubs asked, spotting my face peeking out the changing room door.
I nodded in response.
“Why aren’t you in the examination room yet?”
“Can I get something to cover myself?” I asked.
The lady opened a set of drawers and pulled out a blanket. “Here you go. Do you need anything else?”
I shook my head. “Thanks.”
“I’m Nurse Johnson, and I will be conducting your forensic exam today,” she said, walking with me down the corridor leading to the examination room. “Nurse Tremblay will be joining us shortly. Let’s get you comfortable first and then we can go over the procedure. Sounds good?”
I hesitated a little. “Um, my case is attempted ra-rape. Can I still get an exam?”
“Yes, you can get a forensic exam for any type of sexual abuse in Strollfield.”
I nodded, relieved that Nurse Johnson seemed approachable. The examination room had a bed, a table, and a lamp. The walls were gray and so was the floor, but I didn’t feel intimidated or suffocated, unlike at the police station.
I climbed into the bed and Nurse Johnson adjusted the backrest so that I could sit upright.
“Are you okay? Let me know if you need any more blankets.”
I nodded. “I’m good, thanks.”
“Alright, let me go over how we’ll proceed with the examination today. We’ll get your consent at every step, and you can stop us at any time if you don’t feel okay,” she explained. “We’ll ask you about the incident and take down notes first. Next, we will take photos of all the bruises and wounds, if any. Finally, we will take samples from your body for DNA. All three will be admissible in court as evidence only if you’re alright with it. Any questions?”
I shook my head. “No, I’m ready to begin.”
Nurse Tremblay entered with the equipment for forensic testing, along with cameras. The examination went on for an hour, and this time, I was able to speak about the incident. Both my examiners were patient and empathetic, which helped immensely. They were even impressed that I had been brave enough to take photos of the wound on my neck before coming here.
When we were finished, I felt like a heavy weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I thanked the two nurses profusely for helping me feel confident about pressing charges against Nicholas Parker the next time I went to the police station.
I changed into my skating body suit, because my overalls and shirt were handed over as evidence. When I went to the waiting area, Jai got up from his seat and came rushing toward me. “Are you okay?”
I nodded and smiled. “All thanks to you. I knew I could count on you.”
Jai smiled back at me, looking relieved. “You’d do the same for me. Do you want me to drop you home? You didn’t get your car today, right?”
I shook my head. “No, I’m going back to the SCF fundraiser now. I have a performance to complete.”
“Here, then take this at least,” he said, giving me a box. “I know you skipped lunch.”
I squealed and threw my arms around Jai, seeing the pillowy soft rice cakes soaked in warm spicy lentil soup. “Idly sambar, my favorite Indian delicacy. Thank you. You’re the best.”
Jai returned my embrace laughing. “Enjoy the food. And you’ll rock today, skater girl.”
Chapter 15
“Presenting, Strollfield’s very own Fire on Wheels,” the announcer said as the audience cheered, and I appeared in the skate park wearing a helmet and safety pads on my shoulders and knees. In my hand was my prized possession—my skateboard. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach as I looked around. I had practiced here at the park over a dozen times in the last week, but today with the glitz and glamour, this place seemed totally different.
I took a deep breath and concentrated on the slopes and the curves of the stunt area, ignoring the pain in my body from the horrible encounter earlier.
Kick me all you want, Nicholas Parker. I will bounce back and soar high.
I rolled the skateboard on the floor and jumped onto it as the crowd cheered me on. I skated across the park as if I was on a rollercoaster and glided through the slopes like a bird. I flipped my board with my foot multiple times, jumped into the air, and landed gracefully right back on it. Next, I zoomed past obstacles in the park in a zigzag motion, enjoying the spectators turning their heads, following my movement.
Toward the end of my performance, I attempted something I had never succeeded in before. I rolled the skateboard from the top of the ramp and did a backflip from the same position. If I fell, I would be the laughingstock of the entire city, because my failure would go viral on social media. But I was used to it, and I had nothing to lose.
I landed on the skateboard at the perfect time, and the audience erupted with a standing ovation, chanting, “Once more! Once more! Once more!”
My heart burst with a sense of achievement. Every bone in my body ached, and I knew I would limp for many days to come. But it was worth it. I took quiet pride in my own resilience.
Because I have shown the world what Tina Lauren is made of. And that nothing, absolutely nothing, can keep me down.
I removed my protective gear and limped to the fundraiser entrance, still in my skater outfit. Ekon was waiting for me.
Ekon gave me a piece of paper and a pen. “Autograph, please? Your performance was breathtaking, Tina.”
I blushed at his compliment. “Thank you, but an autograph is too much. I am nowhere as good as professionals.”
Ekon smiled. “You’re too modest. Is there anything you can’t do?”
“I can’t draw,” I answered seriously.
He laughed. “You’re cute.”
No one had called me cute before, and I hoped I wasn’t blushing.
I signed on the paper: “Thanks for my first autograph, Ekon. - Tiara.”
I froze. Why did I sign my real name? It’s Ekon’s fault. He distracted me.
Ekon examined my autograph. “Tiara? Is that your alias? It suits you.”
Thankfully, our conversation was interrupted by strangers gushing about my performance before we could go into the details about my real name. Some took selfies with me, while others shook my hand. I felt awkward at the attention but continued to smile. Ekon waited patiently for me to finish talking to everyone.
At a distance, I noticed Nicholas glaring at me. I ignored him but felt triumphant.
Don’t you dare mess with Tina Lauren, Parker. You will always lose.
Ekon and I walked to the escape room that was a few blocks away. It was the last event of the fundraiser.
“Have you been to the escape room before?” I asked Ekon.
He nodded. “Yes. It was a part of the fundraiser last year as well.”
“I haven’t been here before,” I told him. “It sounds like fun, though. Anyway, when did you start working at the Recharge Café? And how on earth do you get time to attend classes and do school stuff?”
“I started working at the café right after high school, about two years ago. I’m on my own, so I need to survive,” Ekon answered.
“It’s amazing how you managed on your own,” I exclaimed.
Ekon frowned for a second but composed himself immediately. “It wasn’t a smooth journey, but I somehow managed.” He changed the subject. “How about you? When did you start skating?”
“I started when I was twelve,” I answered. “I’m into all types of skating, on ice and land.”
“Wow,” Ekon exclaimed. “You should teach me sometime.”
“Sure! We can start with roller skating. It’s the easiest.”
Ekon and I reached the escape room, and the organizers gave us a brochure with the rules. We would play against four other teams, each with two people. The ten of us would be locked inside the room, and the objective of the game was to solve a series of puzzles and find the key within an hour. The group that escaped first won.
All the teams entered the area that looked like a historical movie set. There was intricately carved, hefty, wooden furniture, with bulky brass handles everywhere, with little room to walk. The shelves were packed with books, treasure chests, showpieces, and other antique artifacts. All the items had complex patterns and designs on them that were jarring to the eye. On the walls, there were cobwebs, which looked real but were made of plastic.
“They do a great job of confusing participants,” Ekon said, chuckling softly. “It’s challenging to find clues in here.”
I nodded and laughed with him. “I feel like I’ve traveled back in time to an ancient castle.”
“You have an hour to escape from here,” said the voice-over. “Follow the clues and solve the puzzles to escape. Good luck.”
A few minutes later, it hit me that we were in a dimly lit room, and it was locked. I was claustrophobic. How could I have forgotten that? I was about to start hyperventilating when I recalled Dr. Kim’s words: “When you’re in a fearful situation—ask yourself three questions.”
What’s the worst that could happen? I might suffocate in this horrible room full of strangers.
Are your fears reasonable? No. The room is air-conditioned, and it’s safe. Besides, Ekon is a decent guy.
What are your new thoughts? I want to forget the horrible events of the day. Solving puzzles is a good way to divert my mind.
“Are you alright?” Ekon asked.
I smiled. “Absolutely. Let’s do this.”
