Boys Don't Cry

Chapter 41

My body lurches forward in to the toilet bowl, regurgitating everything that is in my stomach, I flush the toilet and walk back in to my bedroom, dissecting my suit. Standing in the hallway I look at myself in the mirror, glancing at my well hidden arm. I know my Parents won't be expecting me to eat this morning. I run my tongue over my freshly brushed teeth, the smell of bile gone.
"You look extremely handsome." Amelia says from the kitchen door, I turn to her, she looks stunning.
"She's right, you look incredible." Hayley adds in from behind her. I reminisce about Hayley's support five years ago, and how she was by my side at every minute.
"Not as good as you two. You two are the most beautiful women I've ever met in my life." I reply back, shocking them in to silence. We all make our way out to the car, I walk beside my father, who is wearing a similar suit to me. The journey is tense, we are all extremely nervous, I can't open my mouth without getting the urge to vomit. After forty five minutes, the court house looms in to view, panic begins to set in, and I well up. Hayley grasps my hand, which comforts me slightly, we get out of the car and begin to walk inside, towards the prosecution officers. Another hand clasps mine tightly and I glance to see who it is. Amelia. We made it just in time, lingering about in the hallway, beside the prosecution officer, Katherine, Sarah, Lauren and Ben, who have all come to lend their support. Strong, hard hands pat me on the back, and I whip my body round. Jacob is staring back at me, he doesn't say anything, he just hugs me.
"If he comes anywhere near you - he's a dead man." He whispers, I smile back. As I turn to look at the court room, a short, dark-haired woman marches towards the room, her age is showing, made more prominent by her aged face and dirty hair, which is brushed back. Panic rises inside of me and I turn to my Father.
"She's here." I whisper. He knows who I mean and he glances over. He and Amelia exchange looks.
"What is that pathetic piece of shit doing here?" He mutters to Amelia, I don't think I'm supposed to hear it. "Why the fuck is she allowed to show her face." He continues to rant. Then he turns to me. "You don't even have to look at her. She's going to feel so stupid when she sees how great you're doing now, no one is allowed to speak to you, I will make sure of that. They will have to deal with me first. When you're in that witness box, you keep your eyes on us." He says quietly. Amelia nods along.
"Me too." She adds. When the time comes, I walk in to the court room, ready to face my attacker. I walk in and I'm shown to the witness box. I look over to the other side of the room, and my eyes are met with multiple, angry, stares. I look first at the woman who gave birth to me, the woman who abandoned her own son - her own flesh and blood. Then I look behind her, to the older looking couple sitting next to her, their grey hair sat neatly on top of their heads - my grandparents, her mother and father. As I'm moving my stare back to the front, I lock eyes with two men and a woman, who all have their livid, eyes full of hatred on me. They all do, every single one of them. I look over to the gallery, and see my family, my father and Amelia, Hayley and Jacob all in the front row and Lauren, Katherine, Sarah and Ben all in the second. A door in the left hand side of the room unlocks and opens, two police officers submerge from the darkness of the other room, and a familiar face appears between them. His eyes are on me, the eyes I've seen so many times in nightmares, the eyes of pure evil. He doesn't break his stare as he is led to his seat and instructed to sit down, I close my eyes as a flashback threatens to wash over me. It passes, just in time to see the other man also being led in to the room, his eyes, as well as everyone else's, are also on me. I've learnt that the other guys name is Harry McRither. The prosecution lawyer asks me my name, which I reply to confidently, then she asks me what happened on the night. I explain best I can, sweat pouring off me, stuttering over words I'd normally have no trouble pronouncing. After I've given my account, more questions follow.
"Is your attacker in the room?" The lawyer asks.
"Yes. They're over there." I say, nodding in John and Harry's direction.
"How long did it take you to get over the attack?" She asks.
"I'm still not over it." I admit, swallowing tears. I look at me father, who is smiling in support.
"How did it affect you?" She pushes, with no sign of stopping.
"I can't stop thinking about it, I have nightmares every single night." I tell the entire room, choking on the lump in my throat.
"This has happened before hasn't it?"
"Yes." I say, looking at the lawyer.
"How long ago?" She probes.
"About five years ago." I explain
"What happened after it?"
"I got taken in to foster care." I say, remembering it all.
"When did you move in with your father?"
"About six months ago."
"You have a good relationship with him?" She asks, I answer these calmly.
"Yes, very."
"What about your step-mother?"
"What about her?" I ask, confused as to why they were brought up.
"What's your relationship like with her?"
"Amazing."
"You're expecting a child, aren't you?"
"Yes, a girl."
"Are you still with the mother?"
"Yes."
"Have any of these relationships suffered since the attack?"
"I feel like they all look at me differently, I'm disgusting. I just can't open up to them like I used to. I feel like I burden."
"Good luck with your child, Michael."
"Thank you." I say, finishing there.
The lawyer sits down, and the defence lawyer stands up, ready to ask me more questions.
"Michael, have you ever taken drugs?" He asks, his words stabbing me, I compose myself after hearing this unexpected question.
"What does that have to do anything?" I ask quietly, panicking.
"Answer my question." He spits.
"Yes." I whisper. My parents look just as shocked as I am. We weren't told they would bring this up.
"What drugs?" He asks.
"A lot." I say.
"Heroin? Cocaine? Ecstasy? Tranquillisers?" He's asks. I nod to all of them. "So it could have been possible that you were under the influence when this happened and you have no idea what actually happened?" I shake my head.
"No, I've been clean for like six months almost." I say, getting upset. I feel tears coming.
"Your step-mother is expecting triplets, isn't she?"
"Yes." I say, swallowing another lump.
"So it could be that you made this up to get a bit of attention before they're born?"
"No! Why would I do that?" I protest, Tears rolling down my cheek.
"You mean to tell me that at no point afterwards, you relapsed and started using drugs again?" He interrogates. I look to my dad quickly, who is nodding.
"Yes, I did." I spit, ashamed.
"So you're a junkie?"
"No!"
"You said you had not touched drugs in six months?"
"It was just one time."
"What drug?"
"Cocaine."
"Did John Summers rape you?"
"Yes." I say - one final time.
I am led out of the box and in to the Gallery, to join the others. John is called up next, and he's only looking at one person. I look at my hands, avoiding his stare, and when my eyes glance back up, he's looking at the lawyer.
"Did you rape Michael?" He is asked.
"No, I was at home the entire day, I had a meeting with my probation officer the next morning." He lies, I'm shocked as he does it so calmly.
"Can anyone back that up?"
"My wife." He admits. I gasp quietly as he calls her his wife.
"When did you get married?" The lawyer asks.
"While I was still in prison, two years ago."
"Have all the probation meetings went ok?"
"Yes, apart from the one I didn't make it to, because I was arrested."
"What were you doing at home on the day in question?"
"I was tidying up, helping my wife get the house in order." He lies again.
The lawyer sits down and the prosecution one stands up, beginning her questions, her brown hair in a pony tail.
"What were you in prison for?" She asks straight away.
"Sexual assault."
"Involving Michael Gordon?"
"Yes." John says quietly.
"So you admit that you did it five years ago? What would have stopped you doing it again?"
"The threat of going back to prison, i wouldn't breech probation after three weeks of being released." He admits
"Why not? It didn't stop you before." Reasons the lawyer.
"He's not worth it." John spits. His eyes flick over to me but quickly back.
"You must have been angry that he got you sent to prison?" Taunts the lawyer.
"I did wrong, and I was punished." He says. The lawyer sits down and we await for the next witness to be called up.
"Christina Gordon" my mother. She stands in the box nervously, avoiding eye contact. The defence lawyer stands up and proceeds to ask his questions. His brown hair flapping about as he speaks.
"You were with John on the day of the alleged attack?" He asks her, she brings her eyes up to look at him.
"Yes, we were tidying the house." She lies. I shake my head as she speaks.
"So you believe that your son is lying?" He provokes.
"Yes, he was with me the entire day, and we did not leave our house." She elaborates.
"What about Harry McRither? Do you know him?" He ask, she looks at Harry, my other attacker, and then back at the lawyer.
"Yes, he's our friend. But we had not seen him that week."
"So you deny all contact with him for the whole week?" She nods along to this question. The lawyer sits down, after asking so many few questions and the prosecution lawyer stands up.
He begins to ask his questions, which I hope will prove she's lying.
"Mrs Gordon, why did you never fight for custody of Michael?" She asks.
"I didn't want him." She says casually, I gasp loudly, Amelia's arm wraps around me, I am taken aback by these harsh words.
"Your own son?" She asks.
"I had to make a choice, and I did." Her tone is emotionless.
"You say that you stayed in the house all day, tidying up. However, you're a known drug user, did you not leave to get some?"
"I had some already. But I've stopped." She lies. My father smirks at this, scoffing at her lie.
"That must have been a boring day?"
"It was, but I did not need to go outside." She says.
"Why would you cover up for someone that raped your own child?"
"He didn't rape him." The lawyer sits down and an interval is called. We make our way outside, standing in the fresh air, wind blowing slightly on my heated body. I'm speaking to Hayley when I see her, the woman who was once my mother, is standing on the street, smoking a cigarette, like nothing has happened. I look to my father, who reassures me that it's ok. After half an hour and something to eat, everyone apart from my parents make our way to the public gallery. Harry is called up to the witness box, his alibi is pretty much the same as John's, he has people to vouch for him too. His girlfriend and brother. After an hour of evidence. My father is called to the box, to give evidence of how this affected me. The lawyer stands up and begins her questions.
"Where were you on the day your son was assaulted?" She asks him.
"At work. I got a call from the police."
"Did you go to the scene?"
"Immediately."
"What did you think when you were told what had happened?"
"I panicked. I told him I wouldn't let anything happen to him." He tells the room. He looks up at me, and I look at him, this one time - I'm the one giving the reassuring smile.
"What was Michael like when you first met him?" She asks. I remember that time, when I first met him, the time I used drugs constantly.
"He was lost, still struggling to come to terms with what had happened before. He was angry." He recalls, looking hurt and upset.
"Did that change?" She asks, probing in to our lives even more.
"It began to, it was going really well. Then he was attacked again."
"He went right back to how he was before?"
"Yeah, he's angry, suspicious of everything. The only thing I've managed to keep him from were the drugs."
Next up is Amelia, my father has resumed his place beside me, and together, we watch Amelia give her evidence. The lawyer takes a look around the room, and then begins.
"When did you find out about the attack?
"I was a work, I got a call from his Father, and I rushed straight to the scene."
"Then what happened?"
"I spoke to the police, then I stood with Michael in the ambulance, because he was agitated."
"How has Michael change since the attack?" She asks.
"He's very withdrawn, and angry. He's just not how he was before it. He's not himself."
The lawyer sits down and the judge speaks on, next up is Katherine, who speaks about five years ago, as well as two months ago, then Sarah, my therapist, who speaks in detail about my therapy, everything I've been through, and my current mental state. Then finally, after five hours of evidence, the judge calls an interval, muttering on about hearing enough evidence. We're all excused for an interval, before the verdict and possible sentence. We stand outside again, I welcome the cold air as it hits me. I'm quiet, nervous for the outcome, I think we all are. After half an hour, at half past two, we go back in, composing ourselves for what's about to come. We file back into the pews, I swallow what is hopefully the last lump in my throat for today. The judge speaks on, and I try to focus on the important parts.

"On the one account of sexual assault I find you guilty."

"Breech of probation - guilty."
"Actual bodily harm - guilty."

Guilty on all three charges. I sigh with relief and I look to my parents, who are smiling.

"On account of these charges, I sentence you to twenty years imprisonment. You have destroyed this child's innocence, and my only regret is that it is not long enough."

Now for Harry. I close my eyes, listening closely.

Guilty again. 10 years for his charge.

I sink in to my seat exhausted yet relieved. I stand up, wrapping Hayley in my arms, she kisses me on the side of the head, letting go, I realise we're both crying. I hug everyone, Amelia, and my father, Hayley again and then Jacob. We walk out of the courtroom and out of the building, walking down the big steps, my grasp on Amelia and Hayley's hand loosens slightly. As I reach the bottom, I am shoved hard, I don't fall over but I look for the cause, she is right up against my face, spitting her venomous words at me.

"This is all your fault! You've ruined our lives again! I wish you had never been born!" She spits, staring in to my eyes, my fathers arms pull her back and we keep walking, I clutch Amelia's hand tighter, and she squeezes mine, giving me reassurance.