"It was a dark and stormy nightmare." Neil Gaiman
I woke up feeling it....ice cold terror. We had been at a party...somewhere in the country. I couldn't find my oldest daughter. Nobody seemed concerned. She'll show up they said. The night went on. People told me not to worry - I did. I wandered around gripping my youngest - looking everywhere for my oldest. I couldn't find her. She had vanished. Someone asked me to take a phone call in the house. I took my youngest with me. I wouldn't let go of her. I kept telling the person on the phone I couldn't talk to them....I finally hung up and made my way back to the party. Everything had turned to ice- the ground, the handrails, the steps - my heart.
I used to have these dreams all the time - waking up in a panic - a cold sweat - afraid someone would hurt my girls or had taken them away. It's been a long time since I had these dreams.
A friend of mine read my book. The night before the dream - she called...told me she hated the rapist - told me he should be charged...that he's walking free....that he's still out there. She would help me. She knows the legal system.
She meant well. I told her I would think about it. I did. I dreamt about my oldest daughter getting hurt.
I can't charge him. Not if my girls will get hurt. Not if something will happen to them. They are worth more than him being charged. I just want to trust that God will deal with him somehow. I don't know if that sounds too airy fairy but I can't charge him. I just can't. I hope that's ok. I hope people understand. I hope they don't think less of me. I'm just afraid to go there. I'm afraid for my girls....not for me. If it was just me...then maybe, but I want to protect my girls...keep them safe - as safe as I can in a world that can be so cruel.
The Old Fashion Way, Victorian Times.
6 months ago