Disclaimer: I don't own Roswell, or any of it's characters. I don't own Liz, Max, or anybody else. They belong to Ms Metz, Mr Katims, the UPN, or whoever the heck now owns the rights to them, but not to me. If they were smart, they'd probably bring the series back. Hopefully they'll be too smart to get upset over a little fanfiction.
Summary: Chaos theory reigns as the actions of an overprotective sister have huge consequences.
She stood there watching all the people, hearing all the music, not knowing how she could have done anything this stupid. It was only a seventh grade sock hop she had missed. It shouldn’t have affected her this much. But it had.
It had been her again, she was sure. She knew his sister had never liked her and she didn’t understand why. She’d never done anything to the girl, barely knew her. Why didn’t she just leave them alone.
It was hard enough dealing with being thirteen, hard enough going from where boys were ….ewwww, to where you really wanted them to notice you. Not that he’d ever really been ….ewww.
It was hard for him too, she could tell. He was shy, maybe even more shy than she was. But when they’d been made partners for the science project, when the sock hop announcements had come out just as they were having lunch together working on their project, she’d been so sure that he’d ask her. Maria had also dropped a few hints when he was around, and she thought she finally saw him decide to ask her. But then his sister had been there, kind of hazing him away from her. And the invitation hadn’t happened. And as the days turned in to weeks, it had never happened.
So tonight was the sock hop and he wasn’t there, and so she wasn’t there either, not willing to spoil the mood for Maria and Alex who had decided to go as a couple. They didn’t need their fun to be spoiled by a tearful Liz Parker.
But this was stupid. She didn’t even like Pam Troy. But Pam hadn’t been invited to the sock hop either and they found they had that at least in common. When Pam asked her if she’d like to go to a party with her and her big sister, she should have said no. But she hadn’t. She’d have been sad at the sock hop alone, but she’d have been sad sitting at home too. She’d thought this would cheer her up, but it hadn’t.
Pam’s sister had driven them there, a rave she’d called it. When they’d come in the back door Pam’s sister had gotten them each a drink. Even before she’d tasted the beer, she’d known she shouldn’t be here. The other people were too old, older even than Pam’s sister. The music was too loud, the crowd too rowdy, and she knew that if her parents were to see her right now she’d be grounded until she was thirty or so. Pam’s sister had disappeared in the crowd, seeing some friends. Pam was trying to look sophisticated, but even she looked a little scared, too small and too young for this place.
The second sip of beer had convinced her that she’d take her yeast in bread from now on. Pam was pretending she liked it, but she wasn’t very convincing. They’d been there nearly an hour, and she just wanted to find Pam’s sister, convince her to go, to get her back home, where she could be miserable about him in nicer surroundings. And she wanted to get the taste of the beer out of her mouth.
He was a large guy, wearing a college letterman’s jacket with a football embroidered on the arm. He seemed to be as much of a host as there was at this place, an empty house being used for a party. She asked if she could get a drink of water and he looked at her and smiled, seeing her holding the nearly full cup.
“Don’t like the beer?”
“I’m more used to soft drinks, I think,” she’d said, grateful for a friendly face.
“Hey, we can do soda pop,” he’d said, leaving for the kitchen and returning quickly with a cup full of cherry coke and giving it to her. “Enjoy. Maybe I’ll see you later.”
She was grateful to get the beer taste out of her mouth, even if it wasn’t very good cherry cola. It was lukewarm, and had a kind of metallic taste. Her family had a café, and she knew her soda pop. This had gone bad, or maybe there was something wrong with the syrup mix. The carbonation was OK, but the taste wasn't right. After she drank enough to get the beer taste out of her mouth, she looked around. The “host” was looking at her, he nodded and smiled. She smiled back, not wanting to hurt his feelings, watching until he was back at the keg getting someone a beer before dumping the rest in the bathroom sink. She needed to find Pam and her sister. She wanted to go home.
Sock hop (M/L Mature) complete
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Sock hop (M/L Mature) complete
Last edited by greywolf on Mon Aug 14, 2006 1:23 pm, edited 17 times in total.
She looked for Pam and her sister for about twenty minutes, not really feeling all that well. Maybe it was the loud noise, or the smoke or the beer or the bad soda pop, but she was feeling kind of nauseous, and very tired. She wanted more than anything to go home, but really didn’t want to call her folks, to have them find out that she’d really ever been stupid enough to come to a place like this. But she was feeling worse and worse, and finally she decided it would be better even to face the music and go home than to stay here. So they’d ground her, so what? It’s not like she even had a social life, not like he cared about her she thought morosely. Again she felt the nausea, the fatigue. No time for a pity party, she told herself. Time to call home and admit everything. At least after the lecture she’d have her own warm bed to crawl in to.
“What’s the matter,” asked the same friendly guy. “You look a little tired.”
“I’m not feeling too well. I just need to call my folks and get a ride home. Where’s a phone I can use?”
“If you’d like I’ll take you home..?”
“No, that’s OK. I’d better just call.”
“Well, it’s really too noisy to use any of the phones here in the house, the music drowns you out. There’s a mother-in-law apartment out over the garage. Let me open it up and you can use the extension there.”
The cool air lessened her nausea as she climbed the outside stairway up to the garage apartment, but she was so tired, and the steps seemed so high. It was almost like Alice in Wonderland, nothing really seemed in the right proportions. At the top of the stairs she held the handrail for a minute as he opened the door for her.
“Are you alright?”
“I’m just really tired. I’m not sure why. Thanks for letting me use the phone.”
When she saw the other two in the apartment, she suddenly became very uncomfortable. She started to turn back toward the door but as she did so the door was closed behind her and her “host” slid the chain into the lock.
“Wh—where’s the telephone?”
“Oh, sorry, my aunt had it disconnected when she put the home up for sale. We still have the phones,” he said, picking one up to demonstrate, “they just don’t work any more.”
The two other large guys, wearing the same football letterman’s jackets stood up and walked toward her.
“Why did you have me come up here if you don’t have a phone….?” she asked, her fear almost cutting through her fatigue.
“We just thought you might like to get better acquainted with your hosts,” said the first man, grabbing her forearm.
The young girl tried to scream, but suddenly found a hand over her mouth muffling the sound. But in her brain the scream was a shriek of terror as hands gripped her brutally, pulling her close, and she smelled the stink of beer in the breath of the three.
It might have been quicker if they had been less drunk, if they had better planned what was happening. One turned up the stereo and closed the curtains. They argued briefly over who would be first, one fumbling with the buttons to her sweater and finally, in irritation, just ripping it open, buttons flying around the apartment. Even through her haze she knew what was happening and pulled his hand away from her mouth sobbing “No,…no, ..please don’t….”
The larger one, the one who it was decided would be first, looked at her and said, “You know you’re going to love it. I’ll bet you do this with your boyfriend all the time.”
She started to sob hysterically, despite the growing haze, “No…I’ve never….I don’t want to….Please don’t do this…..oh please no, no!”
If she thought there would be compassion in his eyes she was wrong. He seemed to revel in her fear, like it excited him. His hand reached for her blouse tearing it open, ripping the bra apart. She tried to run, to push him away, but one of the others held her, the other looking nervously out the window of the door, before closing the Venetian blind. She smelled the stink of his breath, the beer, the smoke, as he pushed his face against hers, his lips closing over hers, his unshaved face rasping against her cheek while his hand sought the breast that had been released by her torn bra. He gripped it cruelly, savagely, and smiled as she cried out in pain. “You call that a boob? You are kind of a baby, aren’t you? Maybe you really are a virgin. Well ,you’ll be a real woman tomorrow.”
She was frightened to the point of incoherence now, “Please no…..no….no….oh please no…..no..please…”
The one who had lead her up the stairs looked at her, his words might have seemed almost remorseful if they hadn’t held such eager anticipation. “Don’t worry little girl, you’ve got enough roofy in you from that coke that you won’t remember a bit of this tomorrow. You’ll just wake up with a sore pussy and no idea whatever how you got it.”
She struggled then, struggled with all her might. But there were three of them, the smallest twice her weight. She did her best, but the physical effort only added to her fatigue from the drug, and eventually she found herself pushed back onto the bed, the largest of them straddling her legs while the others each held an arm. She watched as he took off the letterman’s jacket and peeled off the shirt underneath his face a mask of cruelty and lust. She was still babbling incoherently when she saw him reach to unfasten his belt and then the world seemed to dissolve in a flash of golden light.
Liz Parker awoke suddenly, struggling against the blanket that she had wrapped around her in her sleep. She cried out in terror for a second, then saw the blanket, looked around and saw her bedroom. Her heart was still racing from the dream….had it been a dream? Her body smelled of smoke and of beer, and she remembered the words of the man and screamed out again in terror. She looked down at herself, she was in her pajamas, the same as always. Afraid of what she would find her hand went to her left breast, but there was no soreness, she looked….no bruising. Had it all been a dream? She had to know. Quaking with fear she slid her hand down the waist of her pajama shorts, surprised to find her panties still on. She hesitated briefly, ashamed and fearful but needing to know. She shuddered as her hand felt nothing abnormal, produced no pain. Her finger continued on until it was stopped…. A dream, she thought. A horrible, terrible, dream. The worst one she’d ever had. A terrible end to a terrible day.
But she remembered going to the party, her body stunk of the party. Maybe somebody did drug her, she certainly didn’t remember getting home. She felt her cheek, where she remembered the raspy feel of his whiskers. Nothing. But she still stunk of cigarette smoke and beer, of course that whole house had stunk of cigarettes and beer. She wanted a shower now, she decided. No, she needed a shower. She jumped to her feet and headed to her bathroom, oblivious to the ripped blouse and bra lying on the floor next to her bed.
“What’s the matter,” asked the same friendly guy. “You look a little tired.”
“I’m not feeling too well. I just need to call my folks and get a ride home. Where’s a phone I can use?”
“If you’d like I’ll take you home..?”
“No, that’s OK. I’d better just call.”
“Well, it’s really too noisy to use any of the phones here in the house, the music drowns you out. There’s a mother-in-law apartment out over the garage. Let me open it up and you can use the extension there.”
The cool air lessened her nausea as she climbed the outside stairway up to the garage apartment, but she was so tired, and the steps seemed so high. It was almost like Alice in Wonderland, nothing really seemed in the right proportions. At the top of the stairs she held the handrail for a minute as he opened the door for her.
“Are you alright?”
“I’m just really tired. I’m not sure why. Thanks for letting me use the phone.”
When she saw the other two in the apartment, she suddenly became very uncomfortable. She started to turn back toward the door but as she did so the door was closed behind her and her “host” slid the chain into the lock.
“Wh—where’s the telephone?”
“Oh, sorry, my aunt had it disconnected when she put the home up for sale. We still have the phones,” he said, picking one up to demonstrate, “they just don’t work any more.”
The two other large guys, wearing the same football letterman’s jackets stood up and walked toward her.
“Why did you have me come up here if you don’t have a phone….?” she asked, her fear almost cutting through her fatigue.
“We just thought you might like to get better acquainted with your hosts,” said the first man, grabbing her forearm.
The young girl tried to scream, but suddenly found a hand over her mouth muffling the sound. But in her brain the scream was a shriek of terror as hands gripped her brutally, pulling her close, and she smelled the stink of beer in the breath of the three.
It might have been quicker if they had been less drunk, if they had better planned what was happening. One turned up the stereo and closed the curtains. They argued briefly over who would be first, one fumbling with the buttons to her sweater and finally, in irritation, just ripping it open, buttons flying around the apartment. Even through her haze she knew what was happening and pulled his hand away from her mouth sobbing “No,…no, ..please don’t….”
The larger one, the one who it was decided would be first, looked at her and said, “You know you’re going to love it. I’ll bet you do this with your boyfriend all the time.”
She started to sob hysterically, despite the growing haze, “No…I’ve never….I don’t want to….Please don’t do this…..oh please no, no!”
If she thought there would be compassion in his eyes she was wrong. He seemed to revel in her fear, like it excited him. His hand reached for her blouse tearing it open, ripping the bra apart. She tried to run, to push him away, but one of the others held her, the other looking nervously out the window of the door, before closing the Venetian blind. She smelled the stink of his breath, the beer, the smoke, as he pushed his face against hers, his lips closing over hers, his unshaved face rasping against her cheek while his hand sought the breast that had been released by her torn bra. He gripped it cruelly, savagely, and smiled as she cried out in pain. “You call that a boob? You are kind of a baby, aren’t you? Maybe you really are a virgin. Well ,you’ll be a real woman tomorrow.”
She was frightened to the point of incoherence now, “Please no…..no….no….oh please no…..no..please…”
The one who had lead her up the stairs looked at her, his words might have seemed almost remorseful if they hadn’t held such eager anticipation. “Don’t worry little girl, you’ve got enough roofy in you from that coke that you won’t remember a bit of this tomorrow. You’ll just wake up with a sore pussy and no idea whatever how you got it.”
She struggled then, struggled with all her might. But there were three of them, the smallest twice her weight. She did her best, but the physical effort only added to her fatigue from the drug, and eventually she found herself pushed back onto the bed, the largest of them straddling her legs while the others each held an arm. She watched as he took off the letterman’s jacket and peeled off the shirt underneath his face a mask of cruelty and lust. She was still babbling incoherently when she saw him reach to unfasten his belt and then the world seemed to dissolve in a flash of golden light.
Liz Parker awoke suddenly, struggling against the blanket that she had wrapped around her in her sleep. She cried out in terror for a second, then saw the blanket, looked around and saw her bedroom. Her heart was still racing from the dream….had it been a dream? Her body smelled of smoke and of beer, and she remembered the words of the man and screamed out again in terror. She looked down at herself, she was in her pajamas, the same as always. Afraid of what she would find her hand went to her left breast, but there was no soreness, she looked….no bruising. Had it all been a dream? She had to know. Quaking with fear she slid her hand down the waist of her pajama shorts, surprised to find her panties still on. She hesitated briefly, ashamed and fearful but needing to know. She shuddered as her hand felt nothing abnormal, produced no pain. Her finger continued on until it was stopped…. A dream, she thought. A horrible, terrible, dream. The worst one she’d ever had. A terrible end to a terrible day.
But she remembered going to the party, her body stunk of the party. Maybe somebody did drug her, she certainly didn’t remember getting home. She felt her cheek, where she remembered the raspy feel of his whiskers. Nothing. But she still stunk of cigarette smoke and beer, of course that whole house had stunk of cigarettes and beer. She wanted a shower now, she decided. No, she needed a shower. She jumped to her feet and headed to her bathroom, oblivious to the ripped blouse and bra lying on the floor next to her bed.
Nancy Parker’s fear was numbing. The night had been a mother’s worst fear.
She’d been surprised when Lizzy had asked for permission for a sleepover at Pam Troy’s house, she hadn’t thought they were that close. The phone call at 2AM had awakened Jeff and Nancy from a quiet and contented sleep, and thrust them instantly into a nightmare.
Apparently Pam and her sister had tried to find Lizzy for over two hours by themselves, time that might have helped the police search, time that was wasted by the two teenagers hoping to conceal to their own parents that they’d gone to that….rave-thing at all. It had taken time to get the story, and to get the police there. When no one answered the door of the apartment over the garage, it had taken still more time to wake a judge, get a search warrant, and break in the door.
They’d found them then, the three men, and the drugs. But Lizzy wasn’t there. Her sweater was there and part of her blouse, even her purse with her keys and money was there, but no Lizzy.
She and Jeff had spent the night at the police station, following the search, praying she would be found, but to no avail. Jeff was still there. She’d finally come home, not to rest, but just to check the answering machine, hoping against hope that there would be a message, or at least information of some kind. But as she entered the house and looked at the answering machine, she saw there had been no messages, and she felt the hope die and the icy terror return to her heart. Her tears came then. She’d been trying to be brave all night, but alone in the empty house Nancy Parker finally broke down, sobbing in anguish.
After 10 minutes or so, Nancy dried her eyes. She needed to be strong, she told herself. She couldn’t help Lizzy, couldn’t help her devastated husband, if all she could do was cry. She grabbed a handful of tissues and went up the stairs. She’d change her clothes and go back to the police station, taking clothes and a shaving kit for Jeff with her. Halfway up the stairs her heart leaped as she heard the shower running in Lizzy’s bathroom.
She’d been surprised when Lizzy had asked for permission for a sleepover at Pam Troy’s house, she hadn’t thought they were that close. The phone call at 2AM had awakened Jeff and Nancy from a quiet and contented sleep, and thrust them instantly into a nightmare.
Apparently Pam and her sister had tried to find Lizzy for over two hours by themselves, time that might have helped the police search, time that was wasted by the two teenagers hoping to conceal to their own parents that they’d gone to that….rave-thing at all. It had taken time to get the story, and to get the police there. When no one answered the door of the apartment over the garage, it had taken still more time to wake a judge, get a search warrant, and break in the door.
They’d found them then, the three men, and the drugs. But Lizzy wasn’t there. Her sweater was there and part of her blouse, even her purse with her keys and money was there, but no Lizzy.
She and Jeff had spent the night at the police station, following the search, praying she would be found, but to no avail. Jeff was still there. She’d finally come home, not to rest, but just to check the answering machine, hoping against hope that there would be a message, or at least information of some kind. But as she entered the house and looked at the answering machine, she saw there had been no messages, and she felt the hope die and the icy terror return to her heart. Her tears came then. She’d been trying to be brave all night, but alone in the empty house Nancy Parker finally broke down, sobbing in anguish.
After 10 minutes or so, Nancy dried her eyes. She needed to be strong, she told herself. She couldn’t help Lizzy, couldn’t help her devastated husband, if all she could do was cry. She grabbed a handful of tissues and went up the stairs. She’d change her clothes and go back to the police station, taking clothes and a shaving kit for Jeff with her. Halfway up the stairs her heart leaped as she heard the shower running in Lizzy’s bathroom.
The warm water felt good trickling down over her body, caressing her skin. She’d looked again at her left breast, still surprised it wasn’t bruised or tender. The dream had seemed so real. She’d used her strawberry shower gel, anxious to cover up any scent of that horrid place that hadn’t been washed away. She’d shampooed her hair twice too, anxious to get the last bit of the smell of that place off of her. Her hair almost squeaked as she passed her hand through it, and she reached for the conditioner, combing it through her wet hair. She didn’t care if she had the worst split ends in the world, or if her skin felt like sandpaper. She wanted to feel clean again.
The bathroom door opening startled her, her parents never used this bathroom. She was suddenly afraid all over again, and she grabbed for her towel hanging on top of the curtain.
“Mom….?”
“Lizzy! Oh God, Lizzy, you scared us so much…”
Nancy Parker grabbed and held her daughter, clinging to her, oblivious to her daughter's nakedness, oblivious to the water raining down on them both, oblivious to everything but the relief she felt. Lizzy was alive. Lizzy was home. Whatever had happened to her, they’d help her deal with it. They had her back, and for now that was enough.
Liz Parker clung to her mother, a small naked girl suddenly very afraid again, not knowing for sure what was happening, but knowing that her Mom was there for her. She didn’t know why her mother was suddenly so tearful, but she was pretty sure that it wasn’t going to be good news.
The bathroom door opening startled her, her parents never used this bathroom. She was suddenly afraid all over again, and she grabbed for her towel hanging on top of the curtain.
“Mom….?”
“Lizzy! Oh God, Lizzy, you scared us so much…”
Nancy Parker grabbed and held her daughter, clinging to her, oblivious to her daughter's nakedness, oblivious to the water raining down on them both, oblivious to everything but the relief she felt. Lizzy was alive. Lizzy was home. Whatever had happened to her, they’d help her deal with it. They had her back, and for now that was enough.
Liz Parker clung to her mother, a small naked girl suddenly very afraid again, not knowing for sure what was happening, but knowing that her Mom was there for her. She didn’t know why her mother was suddenly so tearful, but she was pretty sure that it wasn’t going to be good news.
The doctor was being as gentle as she could be, Liz realized, and the policewoman was kind and supportive, but the rape exam was still one of the most unpleasant experiences of her life. It wasn’t really painful, they were being gentle and careful, but it brought back the terrible memories, memories she’d almost been able to convince herself were only a dream. But it hadn’t been a dream, she knew….or did she. She thought about her unbruised breast, about when she’d …examined herself. Maybe some of it was a dream, some of it wasn’t. But where did the nightmare end and the greater nightmare of reality begin. Those were the thoughts and fears that made this so bad.
Jeff and Nancy Parker were sitting in the OB waiting room, his arm around her shoulder, her head on his. Nancy was sobbing quietly. The look of terror in Lizzy’s eyes when the policewoman had said the words “rape exam” had almost crushed them. She’d shaken her head, tears falling silently down her cheeks. “Lizzy, you have to..” her father had said. She’d looked pleadingly at her mother then, and Nancy had nodded her head. “I’m sorry dear, but you have to.”
The OB doctor tried to help the parents, “Lizzy we need to make sure. It’s not just the evidence, we need to check for..infection. You may need medication, or even birth control. It’s really important, honey.” And it may have convinced Lizzy, but the words ..infection…medication…and birth control were like daggers aimed at the parents hearts. Never had Lizzy seemed so tiny to them as when she’d walked into the exam room. Never had she seemed so scared. Guilt consumed them both, but particularly Jeff Parker. This was why girls had fathers, to protect them. And he’d failed Lizzy.
Jeff and Nancy Parker were sitting in the OB waiting room, his arm around her shoulder, her head on his. Nancy was sobbing quietly. The look of terror in Lizzy’s eyes when the policewoman had said the words “rape exam” had almost crushed them. She’d shaken her head, tears falling silently down her cheeks. “Lizzy, you have to..” her father had said. She’d looked pleadingly at her mother then, and Nancy had nodded her head. “I’m sorry dear, but you have to.”
The OB doctor tried to help the parents, “Lizzy we need to make sure. It’s not just the evidence, we need to check for..infection. You may need medication, or even birth control. It’s really important, honey.” And it may have convinced Lizzy, but the words ..infection…medication…and birth control were like daggers aimed at the parents hearts. Never had Lizzy seemed so tiny to them as when she’d walked into the exam room. Never had she seemed so scared. Guilt consumed them both, but particularly Jeff Parker. This was why girls had fathers, to protect them. And he’d failed Lizzy.
Last edited by greywolf on Tue Jul 25, 2006 9:50 am, edited 2 times in total.
Sheriff Valenti was there along with the policewoman when the Parker’s were brought into the conference room. The doctor went to the couple and had them sit, placing her hands on top of theirs. She looked up at the Sheriff who closed the door and nodded for her to begin.
“First of all, you need to know that this is sort of preliminary. We took some cultures and took the routine swabs. The cultures will take a day or two to grow out and the swabs will be looked at by forensic specialists, but it looks like Lizzy is OK. It doesn’t look like she was raped at all. I took a couple of extra specimens and looked at them myself in the microscope. There was no evidence of sperm, and the test we do for semen was negative”.
Both parents kind of winced at the terms, but looked suddenly hopeful. “There was no sign of bruising or tearing and the entrance looked virginal. She’s been using tampons for a few months but I think if anything had really happened, I probably still could have seen it fairly readily. I think from the physical aspect she’s going to be OK. The lab test did confirm that she’d had rohypnol though, so clearly someone planned on doing something, something they were apparently never able to finish.”
“Rohypnol…?” Jeff Parker said, almost numb.
“They call it the date-rape drug, Mr. Parker,” said Sheriff Valenti. “The street slang is ‘roofies,’ and it is used in sexual assaults. It interferes with the girl’s memory, she may not even remember being raped, and if she does she may be so confused her testimony isn’t useful.”
“So they really did mean to…..” started Nancy Parker.
“Oh, indeed they did Mrs. Parker. We found quite a bit of the rohypnol on those three guys, and in the trunk of the car of one of them. And it turns out they did this before, in another state. Or they were accused of it at least. It seems their football team was a favorite for the national championship this year. Last year when they were accused the alumni sports boosters hired a fancy East Coast lawyer to defend them. He pretty much destroyed the little girl in the preliminary hearing, she could barely remember what happened to begin with because of the drug, he got her flustered, accused her of lying about it, brought up a few things out of her past, apparently lined up a few team members to claim that she was kind of a team groupie, that it had been....voluntary. Her parents decided she’d been through enough. Told the prosecuting attorney they wouldn’t let her testify. She wound up in a mental hospital for awhile. The case was finally dropped.”
“So what happens to them now, Sheriff?”
“Well, they’ll live,” replied the Sheriff, sounding as if he really didn’t care one way or another about that. “Even without DNA evidence from your daughter, and I don’t want you to think that I’m not just as glad as you that we don’t have that evidence, we’ve got them on the drug possession. I don’t have any doubt they assaulted your daughter, but whether or not we can prove that, based only on her testimony, I don’t know. That’s a call for the county prosecuting attorney, not me, but I rather doubt he’ll want to pursue it since Lizzy doesn’t really seem to know what happened. But we’ve got them cold on the drug charge, and they won’t have some fancy-schmancy lawyer this time. The orthopedic surgeons say they won’t be walking this year, let alone being on any national championship team. So at this point, the sports alumni aren’t interested in them. The joint injuries will heal, but they’ll have arthritis their whole lives, they’ll never play in college again, no NFL team will be even remotely interested in them. "
“Do you have any ideas who…or how that happened, Sheriff?”
“No I don’t . My profiler said he’s never seen rage quite like that. Somebody was slowly, methodically pulverizing them, even after they were unconscious. They claim they don’t know, and I think I may even believe them. I’d guess the father or the brother of the girl in Oklahoma, but I really don’t know. Those were big guys, two of the three all-Americans, if you don’t mind the irony of that term, and someone just took them down and then started taking them apart. I don’t know what stopped him, maybe getting Lizzy home.
While I don’t particularly like the fact that the Sheriff’s office will now have three unsolved assault and battery cases on our statistics, Mr. and Mrs. Parker, our resources are limited. We have a few other priorities that we need to devote our limited manpower to before we put a lot of resources into finding who assaulted those three.”
The policewoman seemed sympathetic to the Sheriff’s resource problem. “Yep, lot of jaywalking going on downtown. Lot of kids with expired bicycle licenses. They all need warning tickets. We can only do so much. Getting whoever beat up these guys just isn’t that much of a priority, as far as I can see.” The Sheriff looked at her in mock annoyance.
“What about Lizzy, Sheriff? How did she get home? How did she get in, she didn’t even have her keys?”
“First of all, you need to know that this is sort of preliminary. We took some cultures and took the routine swabs. The cultures will take a day or two to grow out and the swabs will be looked at by forensic specialists, but it looks like Lizzy is OK. It doesn’t look like she was raped at all. I took a couple of extra specimens and looked at them myself in the microscope. There was no evidence of sperm, and the test we do for semen was negative”.
Both parents kind of winced at the terms, but looked suddenly hopeful. “There was no sign of bruising or tearing and the entrance looked virginal. She’s been using tampons for a few months but I think if anything had really happened, I probably still could have seen it fairly readily. I think from the physical aspect she’s going to be OK. The lab test did confirm that she’d had rohypnol though, so clearly someone planned on doing something, something they were apparently never able to finish.”
“Rohypnol…?” Jeff Parker said, almost numb.
“They call it the date-rape drug, Mr. Parker,” said Sheriff Valenti. “The street slang is ‘roofies,’ and it is used in sexual assaults. It interferes with the girl’s memory, she may not even remember being raped, and if she does she may be so confused her testimony isn’t useful.”
“So they really did mean to…..” started Nancy Parker.
“Oh, indeed they did Mrs. Parker. We found quite a bit of the rohypnol on those three guys, and in the trunk of the car of one of them. And it turns out they did this before, in another state. Or they were accused of it at least. It seems their football team was a favorite for the national championship this year. Last year when they were accused the alumni sports boosters hired a fancy East Coast lawyer to defend them. He pretty much destroyed the little girl in the preliminary hearing, she could barely remember what happened to begin with because of the drug, he got her flustered, accused her of lying about it, brought up a few things out of her past, apparently lined up a few team members to claim that she was kind of a team groupie, that it had been....voluntary. Her parents decided she’d been through enough. Told the prosecuting attorney they wouldn’t let her testify. She wound up in a mental hospital for awhile. The case was finally dropped.”
“So what happens to them now, Sheriff?”
“Well, they’ll live,” replied the Sheriff, sounding as if he really didn’t care one way or another about that. “Even without DNA evidence from your daughter, and I don’t want you to think that I’m not just as glad as you that we don’t have that evidence, we’ve got them on the drug possession. I don’t have any doubt they assaulted your daughter, but whether or not we can prove that, based only on her testimony, I don’t know. That’s a call for the county prosecuting attorney, not me, but I rather doubt he’ll want to pursue it since Lizzy doesn’t really seem to know what happened. But we’ve got them cold on the drug charge, and they won’t have some fancy-schmancy lawyer this time. The orthopedic surgeons say they won’t be walking this year, let alone being on any national championship team. So at this point, the sports alumni aren’t interested in them. The joint injuries will heal, but they’ll have arthritis their whole lives, they’ll never play in college again, no NFL team will be even remotely interested in them. "
“Do you have any ideas who…or how that happened, Sheriff?”
“No I don’t . My profiler said he’s never seen rage quite like that. Somebody was slowly, methodically pulverizing them, even after they were unconscious. They claim they don’t know, and I think I may even believe them. I’d guess the father or the brother of the girl in Oklahoma, but I really don’t know. Those were big guys, two of the three all-Americans, if you don’t mind the irony of that term, and someone just took them down and then started taking them apart. I don’t know what stopped him, maybe getting Lizzy home.
While I don’t particularly like the fact that the Sheriff’s office will now have three unsolved assault and battery cases on our statistics, Mr. and Mrs. Parker, our resources are limited. We have a few other priorities that we need to devote our limited manpower to before we put a lot of resources into finding who assaulted those three.”
The policewoman seemed sympathetic to the Sheriff’s resource problem. “Yep, lot of jaywalking going on downtown. Lot of kids with expired bicycle licenses. They all need warning tickets. We can only do so much. Getting whoever beat up these guys just isn’t that much of a priority, as far as I can see.” The Sheriff looked at her in mock annoyance.
“What about Lizzy, Sheriff? How did she get home? How did she get in, she didn’t even have her keys?”
“I honestly have no idea, Mr. Parker. I suppose it might be prudent for you to change the locks on your house, but maybe not. Given what she told us about what was happening before she blacked out, even with the holes in her story, I’d say this came out much better than anyone had any right to expect it to. It was almost like she had a guardian angel, and I’m not sure changing locks would matter too much to a guardian angel.”
“Doctor, Is there anything more we need to do?”
“I’ll let you know about the cultures and stuff, but I really think everything is going to be OK physically. Lizzy should have some counseling, and so should the two of you.
It’s important that this doesn’t scar her permanently, destroy her ability ever to be comfortable, to have normal relations with men. Even if nothing happened physically, this was a violation of trust that was almost as great as an actual rape. She could get Post traumatic stress disorder, she could have permanent problems if this isn’t handled right. It’s going to be real tough on her.
We’ll try to keep her name out of the papers but it’ll come out somehow. It always does. This is a small town, everyone’s going to know that something happened and there will be a million versions of what that something was.
Liz seems like a shy girl, it’s going to be hard on her, particularly at school. Hopefully she’ll have friends that’ll help her through it. Not just parents, but peers that will support her. She’ll need that.”
“Doctor, Is there anything more we need to do?”
“I’ll let you know about the cultures and stuff, but I really think everything is going to be OK physically. Lizzy should have some counseling, and so should the two of you.
It’s important that this doesn’t scar her permanently, destroy her ability ever to be comfortable, to have normal relations with men. Even if nothing happened physically, this was a violation of trust that was almost as great as an actual rape. She could get Post traumatic stress disorder, she could have permanent problems if this isn’t handled right. It’s going to be real tough on her.
We’ll try to keep her name out of the papers but it’ll come out somehow. It always does. This is a small town, everyone’s going to know that something happened and there will be a million versions of what that something was.
Liz seems like a shy girl, it’s going to be hard on her, particularly at school. Hopefully she’ll have friends that’ll help her through it. Not just parents, but peers that will support her. She’ll need that.”
Last edited by greywolf on Thu Jul 27, 2006 12:22 am, edited 1 time in total.
It had been a busy morning for Pam Troy at Poco Mesa Junior High School in Roswell New Mexico;
Before class: “My sister and I were there. Yeah, it was Parker. She disappeared with this great big football guy. I hear she went up to his bedroom with him.”
First Period: “Yeah, I heard there were three of them up there with her. And her parents made her go to the hospital to have a rape exam the next day. But I heard it was negative because she’d showered and everything, cleaning herself up.”
Between First and Second Period: “Well I can’t help it if she looks OK, it was three big guys. Maybe she didn’t fight them. Maybe she was real…..experienced, and it didn’t really bother her.”
Second Period: “Well maybe there aren’t any charges because it was consensual, did you ever think about that?”
Third period: “It was all Parker’s idea, my sister and I didn’t even want to go there. It’s not fair that we should get grounded, it was her fault.” “Yeah, she had a beer in her hand the minute after we came in the door. We didn’t even know about the place until she told us. She used me and my sister just for transportation, and now look who got in trouble. That is so unfair.”
The lunchroom at Poco Mesa Junior High was buzzing at the start of the first lunch period but when Alex Whitman, Maria DeLuca, and Liz Parker came out of the serving line the din quieted noticeably, ….very noticeably.
They took seats at their usual table, and Alex and Maria tried desperately to pretend that everything was normal, but even the most casual glance confirmed to Liz Parker what she had suspected, every eye in the place was on her.
No, she told herself. Not every eye. She looked to the far corner where he sat, all by himself. Those two big brown eyes weren’t looking at her, they’d scarcely looked at her in third period science either, and then only furtive glances, glances that told her he was ashamed to look at her, ashamed of what he saw when he did.
There was no way out of this she thought, as she looked around the room. Even if she wasn’t too shy to tell them what happened, who would believe her? He’d known her since third grade, and he probably believed all these rumors. Tears trickled down her cheeks, and she was bitter, knowing that even her crying would be taken by many as proof that the rumors were true.
She looked at Alex and Maria…they were trying so hard, and she loved both of them so much, but they weren’t enough. She couldn’t keep going to this school if no one else believed her. Not if he didn’t even believe her.
Before class: “My sister and I were there. Yeah, it was Parker. She disappeared with this great big football guy. I hear she went up to his bedroom with him.”
First Period: “Yeah, I heard there were three of them up there with her. And her parents made her go to the hospital to have a rape exam the next day. But I heard it was negative because she’d showered and everything, cleaning herself up.”
Between First and Second Period: “Well I can’t help it if she looks OK, it was three big guys. Maybe she didn’t fight them. Maybe she was real…..experienced, and it didn’t really bother her.”
Second Period: “Well maybe there aren’t any charges because it was consensual, did you ever think about that?”
Third period: “It was all Parker’s idea, my sister and I didn’t even want to go there. It’s not fair that we should get grounded, it was her fault.” “Yeah, she had a beer in her hand the minute after we came in the door. We didn’t even know about the place until she told us. She used me and my sister just for transportation, and now look who got in trouble. That is so unfair.”
The lunchroom at Poco Mesa Junior High was buzzing at the start of the first lunch period but when Alex Whitman, Maria DeLuca, and Liz Parker came out of the serving line the din quieted noticeably, ….very noticeably.
They took seats at their usual table, and Alex and Maria tried desperately to pretend that everything was normal, but even the most casual glance confirmed to Liz Parker what she had suspected, every eye in the place was on her.
No, she told herself. Not every eye. She looked to the far corner where he sat, all by himself. Those two big brown eyes weren’t looking at her, they’d scarcely looked at her in third period science either, and then only furtive glances, glances that told her he was ashamed to look at her, ashamed of what he saw when he did.
There was no way out of this she thought, as she looked around the room. Even if she wasn’t too shy to tell them what happened, who would believe her? He’d known her since third grade, and he probably believed all these rumors. Tears trickled down her cheeks, and she was bitter, knowing that even her crying would be taken by many as proof that the rumors were true.
She looked at Alex and Maria…they were trying so hard, and she loved both of them so much, but they weren’t enough. She couldn’t keep going to this school if no one else believed her. Not if he didn’t even believe her.
But not all students were in the dining hall during the first lunch period. Two were sitting out on the top bench of the football stand all by themselves talking to each other.
“He hates me Michael, he hasn’t said a word to me since that night. I’ve lost him Michael. He’ll hate me forever.”
“Izzie, it can’t be all that bad..” Michael Guerin had never seen Isabel looking like this. She looked like she hadn’t slept in three days, her usual careful makeup and dress was totally unkempt, her hair looked like it had been mauled by a large cat, and what was most surprising, she didn’t even seem to care. She’d been like a sister to him for two years and he knew her ice princess persona was just for show. He knew she was caring and sensitive inside. But he’d never seen her this frightened, this upset, this …vulnerable.
“You weren’t there, Michael. You didn’t see how he looked at her, how he looked at me. It was only a stupid sock hop, Michael. I never meant for this to happen. I just didn’t want him to get too close to her, I know he’s always cared for her, always….loved her, but I just wanted to protect the secret, Michael….”
Michael tried to hug her to him, tried to stop her shaking, stop her from sobbing. It didn’t seem to help as she went on, “It was bad enough after school before the sock hop. He was just devastated Michael. He lay there on his bed looking at her sixth grade picture, playing Counting Crows. He played A Murder of One over and over and over with his CD player on repeat for almost two hours. I looked in and tried to cheer him up, and he wouldn’t speak to me even then.”
“Easy, Izzie. Calm down.”
“I can’t Michael. I finally went in to tell him to just go get her, to go to the damn sock hop. But it was like he was in a trance, like he was catatonic. Then he jumped up and said he’d seen Liz, that she’d gone up some stairs on a building, someone had grabbed her and she screamed. I tried to hold him Michael, he looked so frightened. I said it was only a dream, and he said he thought it was a dreamwalk. So I said, well OK, it’s only Liz’s dream, you can’t run off to her whenever she has a nightmare, and he said no…it was like she was in a trance, like she’d been drugged. I thought he was just dreaming Michael, I would have never tried to stop him if I’d really thought…….you believe me, don’t you Michael, you know I’m not a …monster like that…..?”
“Izzie, I know you wouldn’t hurt anyone. You just made a mistake. Max will get over it, he’ll understand.”
“You weren’t there Michael. You didn’t see it. He said he recognized the address, recognized the house. He pushed past me and grabbed his bicycle, riding away into the dark. I got on my bike to try to catch him but he was too fast. I was still two blocks away when I felt the first powerblast. When I felt the second and third, I didn’t understand. There were even more as I ran up the stairs. When I got to the top of the stairs he was there, holding her, crying, hitting them over and over and over Michael.
He’d have killed them if I hadn’t stopped him, Michael, I know he would have. I’ve never seen him like that. I’ve never seen anyone like that. I don’t even think I could have stopped him if he hadn’t gotten there before they raped her, Michael. I think he would have just stayed there, hitting them over and over, even after they were dead, until he had no strength left. I’ve never seen such anger in my life. I never knew that much anger even existed. I told him that we needed to get her home, and then he held her and just started to sob. I don’t think he’d have stopped otherwise.
He carried her, Michael, while I rode my bike. He carried her in his arms through the dark streets for three and a half miles, crying the whole way, mumbling apologies to her, even though she couldn’t hear him. He didn’t even check to see if her folks were home, he just unlocked the door and took her up to her bedroom. I thought his heart was going to break when we left her there. He hasn’t talked to me since then. I don’t think he ever will.”
“You’re his sister, Izzie. He’ll understand you didn’t mean for that to happen, didn’t know that that would happen. He’ll realize that. He just needs time.”
“No Michael, you’re wrong. You didn’t see him, Michael. You don’t understand how badly he’s hurt, how much he blames himself, how much he must blame me….. I’ve got to make this right, Michael. I’ve got to make this right somehow. I’ll lose him forever if I don’t…..I’ll lose him forever.”
A Murder of One - Counting Crows
August and Everything After (1994)
Blue morning Blue morning
Wrapped in strands of fist and bone
Curiosity, Kitten,
Doesn't have to mean you're on your own
You can look outside your window
He doesn't have to know
We can talk awhile, baby
We can take it nice and slow
All your life is such a shame, shame, shame
All your love is just a dream, dream, dream
Are you happy when you're sleeping?
Does he keep you safe and warm?
Does he tell you when you're sorry?
Does he tell you when you're wrong?
I've been watching you for hours
It's been years since we were born
We were perfect when we started
I've been wondering where we've gone
All your life is such a shame
All your love is just a dream
I dreamt I saw you walking up a hillside in the snow
Casting shadows on the winter sky as you stood there
counting crows
One for sorrow Two for joy
Three for girls and Four for boys
Five for silver Six for gold and
Seven for a secret never to be told
There's a bird that nests inside you
Sleeping underneath your skin
When you open up your wings to speak
I wish you'd let me in
All your life is such a shame
All your love is just a dream
Open up your eyes
You can see the flames of your wasted life
You should be ashamed
You don't want to waste your life
I walk along these hillsides In the summer 'neath the sunshine
I am feathered by the moonlight falling down on me
Change, change, change
“He hates me Michael, he hasn’t said a word to me since that night. I’ve lost him Michael. He’ll hate me forever.”
“Izzie, it can’t be all that bad..” Michael Guerin had never seen Isabel looking like this. She looked like she hadn’t slept in three days, her usual careful makeup and dress was totally unkempt, her hair looked like it had been mauled by a large cat, and what was most surprising, she didn’t even seem to care. She’d been like a sister to him for two years and he knew her ice princess persona was just for show. He knew she was caring and sensitive inside. But he’d never seen her this frightened, this upset, this …vulnerable.
“You weren’t there, Michael. You didn’t see how he looked at her, how he looked at me. It was only a stupid sock hop, Michael. I never meant for this to happen. I just didn’t want him to get too close to her, I know he’s always cared for her, always….loved her, but I just wanted to protect the secret, Michael….”
Michael tried to hug her to him, tried to stop her shaking, stop her from sobbing. It didn’t seem to help as she went on, “It was bad enough after school before the sock hop. He was just devastated Michael. He lay there on his bed looking at her sixth grade picture, playing Counting Crows. He played A Murder of One over and over and over with his CD player on repeat for almost two hours. I looked in and tried to cheer him up, and he wouldn’t speak to me even then.”
“Easy, Izzie. Calm down.”
“I can’t Michael. I finally went in to tell him to just go get her, to go to the damn sock hop. But it was like he was in a trance, like he was catatonic. Then he jumped up and said he’d seen Liz, that she’d gone up some stairs on a building, someone had grabbed her and she screamed. I tried to hold him Michael, he looked so frightened. I said it was only a dream, and he said he thought it was a dreamwalk. So I said, well OK, it’s only Liz’s dream, you can’t run off to her whenever she has a nightmare, and he said no…it was like she was in a trance, like she’d been drugged. I thought he was just dreaming Michael, I would have never tried to stop him if I’d really thought…….you believe me, don’t you Michael, you know I’m not a …monster like that…..?”
“Izzie, I know you wouldn’t hurt anyone. You just made a mistake. Max will get over it, he’ll understand.”
“You weren’t there Michael. You didn’t see it. He said he recognized the address, recognized the house. He pushed past me and grabbed his bicycle, riding away into the dark. I got on my bike to try to catch him but he was too fast. I was still two blocks away when I felt the first powerblast. When I felt the second and third, I didn’t understand. There were even more as I ran up the stairs. When I got to the top of the stairs he was there, holding her, crying, hitting them over and over and over Michael.
He’d have killed them if I hadn’t stopped him, Michael, I know he would have. I’ve never seen him like that. I’ve never seen anyone like that. I don’t even think I could have stopped him if he hadn’t gotten there before they raped her, Michael. I think he would have just stayed there, hitting them over and over, even after they were dead, until he had no strength left. I’ve never seen such anger in my life. I never knew that much anger even existed. I told him that we needed to get her home, and then he held her and just started to sob. I don’t think he’d have stopped otherwise.
He carried her, Michael, while I rode my bike. He carried her in his arms through the dark streets for three and a half miles, crying the whole way, mumbling apologies to her, even though she couldn’t hear him. He didn’t even check to see if her folks were home, he just unlocked the door and took her up to her bedroom. I thought his heart was going to break when we left her there. He hasn’t talked to me since then. I don’t think he ever will.”
“You’re his sister, Izzie. He’ll understand you didn’t mean for that to happen, didn’t know that that would happen. He’ll realize that. He just needs time.”
“No Michael, you’re wrong. You didn’t see him, Michael. You don’t understand how badly he’s hurt, how much he blames himself, how much he must blame me….. I’ve got to make this right, Michael. I’ve got to make this right somehow. I’ll lose him forever if I don’t…..I’ll lose him forever.”
A Murder of One - Counting Crows
August and Everything After (1994)
Blue morning Blue morning
Wrapped in strands of fist and bone
Curiosity, Kitten,
Doesn't have to mean you're on your own
You can look outside your window
He doesn't have to know
We can talk awhile, baby
We can take it nice and slow
All your life is such a shame, shame, shame
All your love is just a dream, dream, dream
Are you happy when you're sleeping?
Does he keep you safe and warm?
Does he tell you when you're sorry?
Does he tell you when you're wrong?
I've been watching you for hours
It's been years since we were born
We were perfect when we started
I've been wondering where we've gone
All your life is such a shame
All your love is just a dream
I dreamt I saw you walking up a hillside in the snow
Casting shadows on the winter sky as you stood there
counting crows
One for sorrow Two for joy
Three for girls and Four for boys
Five for silver Six for gold and
Seven for a secret never to be told
There's a bird that nests inside you
Sleeping underneath your skin
When you open up your wings to speak
I wish you'd let me in
All your life is such a shame
All your love is just a dream
Open up your eyes
You can see the flames of your wasted life
You should be ashamed
You don't want to waste your life
I walk along these hillsides In the summer 'neath the sunshine
I am feathered by the moonlight falling down on me
Change, change, change
It was three days later, and Liz Parker had finally just given up. She’d begged her parents not to make her go to school yesterday, and they’d tearfully agreed after a quick call to the sexual assault counselor.
Things had been going from bad to worse over the entire course of the week.
It wasn’t like Maria and Alex weren’t doing their best, but they’d had different interests, different goals, and had taken different classes. She only shared one period with each of them, leaving four periods and most of the breaks in between when she was surrounded by eyes looking at her, mouths whispering about her, and heads nodding toward her when she came into the room.
And it was him, she admitted to herself. His unwillingness to even look her in the eye. The fact that even he seemed to believe all the terrible things that were being said about her. He was in two of her classes, science and math, and he hadn’t spoken to her, hadn’t hardly looked at her. And when he had, the look had been one that bordered on horror. He really didn’t seem to even see her, just seeing in his minds eye the image of something terrible.
She could have withstood all the rumors, all the lies, even all the boys who now would walk up and ask her if maybe she’d like to go out with them after her parents let her off her grounding, their eyes almost undressing her as they spoke to her. Even that humiliation she could have taken, if only he’d accept her.
He didn’t have to invite her to a dance even, just be a friend, just be a lab partner, just……if the world could only be like it was. But it couldn’t, she decided, and she couldn’t take it anymore.
She spent yesterday talking to her parents, explaining why she just couldn’t go on. That had scared them when she said that…. She didn’t really mean suicide or anything…although sometimes that seemed less painful than living one more day.
Things had been going from bad to worse over the entire course of the week.
It wasn’t like Maria and Alex weren’t doing their best, but they’d had different interests, different goals, and had taken different classes. She only shared one period with each of them, leaving four periods and most of the breaks in between when she was surrounded by eyes looking at her, mouths whispering about her, and heads nodding toward her when she came into the room.
And it was him, she admitted to herself. His unwillingness to even look her in the eye. The fact that even he seemed to believe all the terrible things that were being said about her. He was in two of her classes, science and math, and he hadn’t spoken to her, hadn’t hardly looked at her. And when he had, the look had been one that bordered on horror. He really didn’t seem to even see her, just seeing in his minds eye the image of something terrible.
She could have withstood all the rumors, all the lies, even all the boys who now would walk up and ask her if maybe she’d like to go out with them after her parents let her off her grounding, their eyes almost undressing her as they spoke to her. Even that humiliation she could have taken, if only he’d accept her.
He didn’t have to invite her to a dance even, just be a friend, just be a lab partner, just……if the world could only be like it was. But it couldn’t, she decided, and she couldn’t take it anymore.
She spent yesterday talking to her parents, explaining why she just couldn’t go on. That had scared them when she said that…. She didn’t really mean suicide or anything…although sometimes that seemed less painful than living one more day.