The Testimony

Laura was all too aware of the sideways glances and nervous movements of the men and women scattering the long, wide hallway. She could feel the coldness of the marble tiled floor and fancy concrete walls, even the tall ceilings seemed to reach down and grip her in cold. She wrung her hands in front of her and tried to keep her stomach where it belonged.

Every step she took made the hall seem longer, the movements slower. The fowl stench of a hundred perfumes and colognes filled her nose as the sound of her own heels dragging against the marble made the vibration in her ears almost unbearable.

People walking toward her diverted their eyes and made a wide birth around her. Talking stopped as she walked by, eyes followed her. No one came with her, she was alone, even in the crowded hallway, even in her crowded mind. She adjusted the sleeves of her jacket, smoothed her skirt, and stood at the tall, dark, wood door of the courtroom. Of courtroom 12A. She swallowed hard and reached out a sweaty hand to grip the gold handle.

“Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?” The well-groomed court clerk stood before her as she stayed standing in front of the witness chair, his eyes blank as he repeated the overused lines. She forced herself to nod and sat when motioned to do so, thankfully not having to rely on her unsteady knees any longer.

Swallowing was impossible, speaking a nightmare of a task, and unraveling her fingers from one another was never going to happen. She shifted in the chair.

“Laura Hayes. Is it true that you attended Grainge High School for the academic year of 2000-2001, and were present on March 12th, 2001 – a Monday?” The prosecutor, who had been so easy to talk to when they had been sitting in interview rooms or her office at the Justice Center now looked mean, and cold as ice, her jaw squared with her long blonde hair smoothed back into a twist at the back of her neck. Her pantsuit looked like it had been ironed with her in it and the clicking of her shiny, black, conservative heels against the hardwood floor ticked down the seconds that seemed hours as all eyes were focused on the shy young woman on display for the court. “Laura?”

She swallowed hard, her eyes wide and staring straight ahead. “Laura.” The soft voice came from somewhere else, and she looked up to see a man in black robes looking down at her with a quiet smile. “Take your time. We have all the time you need. Just relax, okay?” His graying hair and glasses gave him a distinguished look, but his smile and the caring sparkle in his eyes were sincere.

Laura nodded and looked back at the hard-as-stone prosecutor. “Yes.” It came out as a hoarse whisper and the clerk stepped up to pour her a glass of water from the pitcher sitting on the table next to him. She gulped half of it down and gripped the glass in her hands to keep it steady. “Thank you. And yes, I was there.”

“Laura, can you please tell the court exactly what you remember of the events of that day at Grainge High School?”

Laura shifted in her chair. The room seemed to be filled with people but it was dead silent. She glanced over at the stenographer and squeezed her eyes shut. This was it. She just had to go through it one more time, then it would be over. She told the story exactly as she’d rehearsed it.

It was just a Monday, there was nothing special about it. I had asked my second period English teacher if I could leave a few minutes early so that I could stop by the women’s restroom on my way to my next class without being late. I was rushing, and I had been holding it all class. There were posters everywhere for the varsity football team tryouts.

I saw them in the hall, I saw them watching me, and I’ll never forget the smirks that crossed each of their faces as I passed. I hadn’t noticed that they had turned to follow me, I was in too much of a hurry, but all four of them were standing outside the stall when I opened the door.

“Laura, if I could just stop you for a moment, I know you want to get through this as quickly as possible. But could you please name these four young men, and point them out if you see them here in the courtroom today?”

Laura looked up at the judge and was given another caring smile. “Take your time. Close your eyes for a moment if you need to. John? Get her some more water please.”

The clerk came back over with the pitcher and filled her glass. Laura sipped and held it in her lap as she took a deep breath. “Steve Thompson, James Lopinski, Jake Preston, and Luke Wales. Steve and Luke are sitting at that table over there.” She pointed.

“And how did you know these boys?”

“They were on the junior varsity football team. Everyone knew who they were.”

“I understand. Please continue.”

One of them came up behind me and wrapped their arm around my shoulders – walking me into the women’s restroom while the others followed behind. His grip tightened as I tensed. I knew what was coming. I turned to go the other way, but another took me by the elbow and walked me to the sink counter… When their grips loosened for just a moment I tried to run, but the other two grabbed me by the arms and pushed me face down onto the tile counter. I squirmed but I couldn’t get free. They held my arms against the cold tile, my face landing in a puddle of soap as my forehead bounced off the counter as I struggled to get them off of me. One of the others ripped my jeans past my hips, not even unfastening them, just pulling so hard the fabric tore into my skin along with his nails.

I’d never been with a man before, and I knew all of them, so they knew this…One of them stuffed a paper towel into my mouth just as he thrust into me…I know I screamed, I could hear it in my head, and I still can, but the paper towel was filling my mouth and his hand was clamped tight around it, his nails digging into my cheek…His hand smelled of the football he always carried with him and tossed to his buddies in the courtyard…

I tried to focus on anything but the pain, anything but him, but one of the others grabbed me by my ponytail and forced my head up…He told me to look at myself in the mirror…I squeezed my eyes against it, I didn’t want to, but he wrapped his fingers tight around my throat and threatened to squeeze me dead if I didn’t open my eyes…I will never forget that image so long as I live… I saw the fear in my own eyes, the tears staining my cheeks, and his cocky grin as he thrust himself inside me.

They released me for a split second as soon as he was done, and I tried to run…I almost got to the door when he grabbed me by the hair again and threw me to the floor, my head once again bouncing off of the tile…I scrambled to my knees, then tried to get to my feet, but someone rammed their boot into the middle of my back… I know I screamed again, but I couldn’t get the dry paper towel out of my mouth before my hands were pulled up over my head…

The next one rolled me over onto my back and was quickly on top of me, pinning my legs against his shoulders as he held my hands together above my head. Another one kneeled by my head and gripped my hair…Yelling at me to spit out the paper towel as I struggled with it, then pulling my mouth towards him, and forcing me to swallow him…

I couldn’t breath, and all I could think about was the pain that consumed my body…The one who was in my mouth reached down and squeezed my breast tight, painfully tight, and I had the shape of his fingers etched onto my skin for weeks…

Then I was dragged to my feet and lifted onto the counter again, my back against the mirror… “I don’t want leftovers…” The last one whispered into my ear as he thrust into my ass. This time I did scream, it echoed in my head and in the small room. He gripped my mouth tight and told me if I screamed again I’d be dead, one of the others pulled out a knife and I stared at it, trying to wish it away…I prayed to any god that existed, any being that could save me… The fear was rapidly replacing the pain.

He pulled out of me and two of them dragged me to the bathroom stalls, I remember my knees scraping against the tile, and they threw me into a stall, my head bouncing this time off of the toilet…

“What do you remember next?”

Laura shifted again, and took a sip of water, her throat was closing in on her.

One of the teachers was pulling me out of the stall and I was laying on the floor in the middle of the bathroom while I faintly remember her telling someone else to call for help. I remember seeing red, with the blood in my eyes, and I remember the sting from the cool paper towel to my head…

She asked me if I knew who did this and I tried to nod my head but it hurt so bad… I don’t know if I actually moved or not, but she told me not to. The ambulance took me to the hospital, and I remember the loud sirens. I just wanted it to stop, all of it, the noise, the movement…

“And what happened at the hospital? Do you remember?” The prosecutor moved to stand behind the table next to her associate. Her voice had gotten softer.

I had to have some sort of scan of my head but I don’t remember what exactly…I had a concussion and I remember someone coming into my room every hour to check my eyes and just about everything else…My mom sat with me, and I remember watching her cry…My dad only came in once to see me, I think it made him angry…

The female doctor came in to see me right after my head test…She was really nice…Then the cop, even though he wasn’t dressed like one. He was nice, and the man who wrote down everything I said was nice, too…I had to sign the statement, and so did my mom, because she was there listening to me tell what had happened.

Then the psychologist came…She looked at me funny, and asked me stupid questions like if it felt good, and if I asked them to continue, or if I told them to do this to me. I didn’t like her, and I think my dad was outside the door listening because he came in and told the lady to leave.

“Laura, have you seen a mental health professional since that day in the hospital?”

“Yes.”

The prosecutor sat down and looked over at the defense attorney. “Your witness.”

The nervousness swelled again, her heart now beating everywhere except in her chest. She waited as the man shuffled through a few papers with a couple of glances over the tops of his glasses at her.

“Laura, is it? Do you often walk the halls alone during class period?”

She was confused. What did this have to do with anything? “No, as I said, I was only trying to get to the restroom.”

“I see. And you mentioned jeans. What else were you wearing that day?”

“A gray tee shirt, why?” Her cheeks reddened, and her voice grew louder.

The judge stepped in. “Is there a point to this, Counselor?”

“Yes, there is, Your Honor.”

“Make it.” The demanding tone betrayed his caring nature, but the point was quickly made.

“Was this tee shirt showing any amount of excess skin? Were you within the dress code set forth by the school and the school district?”

Her fear and nervousness fueled her anger. She stood, her glass of water falling to the floor with a splash and a shatter. “How dare you! I WAS within dress code and even if I hadn’t been, there is NO excuse for ANYONE to take advantage of a person in ANY way! I did NOT ask for this!”

The pounding of the gavel did not have the electric power of her words as they resonated within the large room. The chatter that had risen to a fever pitch died down as fast as it had started. “Laura, please sit.” His face was cold, but his eyes were sparkling. “And Mr. Davis, the question was uncalled for and accusatory. Strike the question, Miss Hayes’ answer, and all related questions and answers. Thank you. Now, do you have a real point to make Mr. Davis?”

With one last look at Laura, he moved to his table and sat. “No, Your Honor, that’s all.”

This time, the judge turned to her with a smile. “You can step down now, Laura. Thank you, you did great.”

Laura stood, looked out at all of the people sitting in the room, the defendants, the prosecutor, the few people sitting in to watch. She stepped down, without an ounce of fear, and walked between the tables and down the short walk to the door where the guard held it open for her.

The clicking of her heels against the marble was quick and sharp as she walked down the large hall. This time the people didn’t quiet down to watch a sulken, shy woman sulk down the hall, they turned to watch a woman stride down the hall with pride and determination. They watched a woman walk into the daylight of a Spring day and leave a dark past in the cold hands of Justice.

No matter what happened, her story was told.