Hunger

Austin: The Trial

It's the day of Ray's trial. I'm sick with nerves about seeing him again, but I have to testify, more for Pixie than myself. Seth and Pixie gave their own statements to the psychologists who interviewed them. Since she's so young and Seth's testimony will be used in the trials against the other perpetrators that Ray named, they don't have to be present to testify today. I, on the other hand, have to face Ray alone. Well, not exactly alone. Rory is with me. I didn't want Pixie anywhere near the trial, so Blanca has taken her to school today.

"You look nice," Rory says as we head into the courthouse.

The lawyer told me I had to dress decent, so I'm wearing the white shirt I wore to Rory's ballet and a pair of black pants Blanca bought me for work. I can feel myself sweating, even though I'm not hot. My mouth is so dry, I'm scared I won't be able to say what I need to say.

We walk through security and have to endure an awkward pat down after the metal detector goes off because of Rory's phone. Even if I'd wanted to bring a gun and blow Ray's head off, I would have been stopped before I even saw him. The idea did cross my mind during my darker moments over the past few weeks.

"You'll be fine." Rory smiles at me before I have to leave her. "I love you."

I wrap my arms around her. "I love you too," I mumble into her hair, which smells like flowers today. I try to hold on to that scent.

The lawyer told me that the defense is working to get Ray a shorter sentence. There's no hope he'll be declared innocent, having narrowly avoided the death penalty by handing out names of his accomplices. Normally the child trafficking charge alone would buy him an instant death sentence in Oklahoma, but he weaseled out of it and fewer years off a life sentence is about all the defense can shoot for now. They're hoping to sway the judge with an emotional appeal about Ray's horrific childhood, which is ironically almost a mirror image of mine.

Knowing that Ray suffered the things I suffered doesn't make me understand, pity, or empathize with him. In fact, it makes me hate him even more, because he did all that shit to me knowing exactly what it felt like. The defense is a joke when you consider that I didn't turn into an evil sociopath as a result of all the shit he put me through, so why should he get a free pass for the same thing? I'm going to play that up a lot, like the lawyer told me to. He also told me the defense would try to manipulate me with their questions, trying to make it seem like the abuse wasn't that bad. I'm not even sure what manipulate means, but I know they're not gonna make this easy on me.

When they call me to the witness stand, I avoid looking at Ray. I'm here to tell my story, nothing else. In fact, I don't look at him until they make me identify him. His eyes are cold black.

"Describe your relationship to the defendant," the defense lawyer says to me.

She's a young, pretty, blond lady. I can tell Ray has worked on her because of the way she looks at him over her shoulder. He's excellent at making gullible women want him right before he destroys their lives. She has all the flirty, fluttery-lashed stupidity of a girl who doesn't realize she's a product yet, and I both pity and despise her.

"Um..."

I pause and take a sip of water out of the bottle they gave me.

"Ray was my mother's boyfriend. They started dating when I was a baby."

"Would you say he was a father figure to you?"

"No. In the beginning he pretty much treated me like I didn't exist."

"What changed?" she asks.

"He realized he could make money off me."

"Can you explain what you mean?"