Night before court was a different story, pacing back and forth in bedroom, questioning what the hell was doing, breath coming in little gasps. Had told parents he’d pled guilty but didn’t want to put them through listening to raw details of my account, so hadn’t informed them of sentencing date. Was planning to attend alone, but realised in a panic I needed someone to hold my hand, bring me comfort, talk me down. People I could trust.
Stopping dead in middle of room, knew what I needed to do.WhoI wanted.
‘Shit! I can’t do this.’ Standing in corridor waiting to be called in, my quavering voice echoed off the law court walls. I spun around, desperately searching for the exit.
Albie squeezed my sweat-slicked hand before making room for Ethan, who looked me straight in the eye and spoke in a low, urgent whisper. ‘Tori, you made this decision for sound reasons,and they’re still true. We’ll sit at the back, the Clerk’s confirmed it’s a public court, and you can look at us the whole time if it helps.’ He quirked a half-smile. ‘You’re here to tell the judge how this has affected you, and words are your passion, so just tell your story. Be brave for the next twenty minutes and then it’ll be over, and we can leave. Whatever the sentence, you can get on with your life.’ Leaning forward, he pressed a kiss to my forehead, and I didn’t flinch, calming under his touch. Noticing, his fingers wrapped around mine, warm and firm. My cheeks heated, and I swallowed. ‘I believe in you,’ he stated. ‘Albie and I both do. You’ve got this.’
‘T-thanks,’ I breathed gratefully, his words resonating somewhere deep inside and making me stand straighter. Was sick of hiding. Had done nothing wrong. And why should I keep giving Ricardo power by being afraid?
When the Clerk opened door and called my name, I nodded at her, rubbing palms dry over floral dress and firming my spine. Steely determination that’d helped me survive swelled behind my breastbone. Mr Finch, on forwarding my statement to the defence as part of the sentencing bundle, had said it sailed close to the wind because I commented on both the accused and a few details of the crime, as well as the impact on me, but for some reason they’d allowed it.
Once had taken my place in the court and gone through the formalities, I looked across at the man who’d caused me such trauma. His face was gaunt, and his skin held unhealthy pallor. The fit physique and casual arrogance he’d exhibited when I’d briefly known him, had disappeared. Meeting my eye, he nodded once.
Didn’t look at his family, or anyone else then, taking out my updated statement. Read it, speaking from the heart. Told my story in an honest, unvarnished way I hoped would help everyone involved move forward. Sometimes my voice trembled,or my hands clenched in anger. Other times, I became tearful, but it didn’t matter. Albie and Ethan were silently cheering me on, and the judge listened to, and I’d like to think heard, every single word.
‘Your Honour,
The night the accused stabbed me changed who I am. Having such horrendous injuries inflicted by someone I thought was a decent person – just not one I wanted a romantic relationship with – was a shocking betrayal and deeply traumatising.
My injuries were a broken eye socket, fractured cheekbone, severe concussion, split lip, severe bruising, and three stab wounds. The prosecution will have provided the bloody and graphic photographs. I was incredibly lucky no major organs were hit and the wounds weren’t life changing, physically.
While my body’s healed, he robbed me of the future I planned. Also, some injuries are worse than any outward harm, because it’s the scars inside your mind which haunt you the most… I was left with anxiety, panic attacks and PTSD, making me constantly check over my shoulder in fear of bumping into him. Terrified he’d finish what he started. I had to quit my job, leaving my home city and family behind. I also lost faith in my own judgement, and my ability to trust was shaken.
I used to think my attacker was evil, but recently a friend said he was clearly unwell when he hurt me. Maybe that’s a generous view, but after what I’ve been through, I know personally how poor mental health affects people. Nowadays, I live by rules centred around happiness and kindness, and thinking about the lessons they’ve taught me, I’m choosing to be kind and think my friend’s right. But make no mistake, I didn’t lead him on, and I treated him with dignity and respect.Whatever the cause of his crime, the blame lies with him. Not me.
Until recently, the accused had pled not guilty. I didn’t know why. There were many witnesses, pictures of my injuries, and the police arrested him at the scene after bystanders restrained him. I’m relieved he’s found the courage to take accountability for what he did. To acknowledge what a devastating impact his actions had. He should express remorse and say sorry. Admit he shouldn’t have hurt me, and let me go. As I need to let the thought of him go, the blackest sharpest edges that wake me with nightmares. This needs to be over. He should be rehabilitated, and never inflict this pain on someone else.
My journey is far from over, but I did survive, and have seen the green shoots of recovery over the past few months. I live somewhere I feel safe, with new-found friends who’ve become like family, just not the one I was born into. I also have a purpose, doing something to change the world in a small but positive way. I hope we’ll succeed. I’ve also returned to writing, and it’s been gratifying to know I might still have a career. It’s not the life I planned, but it’s the one I’ve found myself in. I’m gradually making my way to happiness with the care and support of good people, by being kind to myself and by letting the magic of my new home soothe me.
Today’s rule for living istry to practise forgiveness.The last few months, and the people I’ve surrounded myself with, have made me a better person. Meaning I can do what I never thought possible.’
Turning tohimagain, I met his gaze, unflinching. Letting him see who I’ve become, not his victim, but a survivor. ‘Ricardo, I forgive you. For both our sakes.’ There was an exchange of something nameless between us. Not anything I could label, butit was there. ‘To the court, thank you for listening to my story. I hope it resonates, and the right decision is made to send him to prison for a long time, because he went out that night intending to harm me.’ I lifted my chin and stared at the judge. ‘But if not, I’ll find a way to survive that too.’
Afterwards, I banged through the doors and raced over to the row of chairs in hallway, hair flying out behind me. Dropping into end seat, bowed my head and sucked in oxygen. A pair of polished shoes appear in my line of vision, and I raised my chin.
A stranger stood in front of me, features familiar enough I stiffened in my chair.
Holding his hands up, palms out. ‘Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.’ His voice was like Ricardo’s, but huskier.
‘You’re his brother?’ Could see resemblance in the jaw line, their straight noses and curve of ears.
‘Don’t worry, you can trust me, I’m a doctor. First, do no harm.’ Paused as Ethan and Albie arrived, flanking him wordlessly to stand guard. Nodded at them, and continued, ‘I wanted to say something, if that’s okay.’
‘I’m listening.’ Gulped, but took strength from my friends’ presence.
‘Listening to your statement was difficult and painful, but necessary. And he needed to hear it.’ Ran a hand through greying hair. ‘Despite appearances, my brother’s not a bad person. You were right. He wasn’t well, and there are extenuating circumstances.’ His voice was full of remorse, but he didn’t elaborate. ‘Your rejection tipped him over the edge, and he was jealous and hurt. It was a moment of madness. I know my brother, and we’ve talked about this a great deal overrecent months. You don’t have to be scared, he won’t look for you when he’s out. I promise. He’ll serve his time, however long it may be, and try to move on with his life. I know you don’t have any reason to trust me, but I’ve no reason to lie.’ His expression carried a wealth of sadness, shame and regret. ‘I wish you all the best. Thank you for giving me a few moments of your time.’ Nodding in farewell, he turned and slipped back inside the courtroom.
Realising I believed him, my eyes widened. Turned to Ethan and Albie, spoke in a sob. ‘I’m free? It’s over?’
‘I think so,’ Ethan replied, relief lighting his blue gaze.
Albie, who I’ve come to regard as an honorary grandparent, threaded his arm through mine, tugging me from chair and leading us toward exit. ‘Me, too. Now let’s go home.’
‘Sounds perfect.’
After we’d left, and saw missed calls on my phone, realised hadn’t even thought to check in with my solicitor, because I was so ready to leave it all behind.
Peering out of the front windscreen of Ethan’s new Audi estate (had listened to a suggestion I’d made, treating himself to a better car with his pay rise) I sighed as we departed the city centre. Albie asleep in back seat, gently snoring.
