Part 4 What Happened To Me

I am going to try and tell a little more about what happened to me. I'm not sure how far I will get, but my therapist keeps telling me that I should.

After he finished smoking a cigarette and drinking a beer he began to do things to himself while staring at me. In all honesty it took me a few seconds to realize that he was pleasuring himself. Although the many times he raped me during these 23 hours were horrible, him pleasuring himself while staring at me and one other thing that I won't get into yet gives me an over whelming sense of being objectified and degraded. I won't get into all the gross details of what he did to himself but I will say that some of them were very strange. I can only assume pain rather it be my pain or his own, turned him on. Near the end before he climaxed he stood up in front of me, no more than an arms length away and finished.

I don't know how to better describe the nasty, empty, and used feeling I had and still have when I felt his stuff land on me. It's a sensation I don't think I will ever be able to wash off my skin. I have tried so many times to get rid of the feeling that his stuff is still on me but nothing works. The whole time I was crying and I kept hearing someone's voice call out for their mom. Looking back at it now I think it was my voice that I was hearing. There were sounds that he was making, sounds that I wish I had never heard; breathing sounds and the sound of my name emanating from his mouth haunts me.

He used my torn clothes that lay on the floor to wipe himself off. He then repeated the words he told me about 10 minutes earlier, that he was going to make me feel more comfortable. He reached into the pocket of his pants that were on the floor and took a key out of it. I didn't know it was a key at first until he showed it to me. It was the key to the handcuffs that were holding my wrists over my head for the past hour. He stood behind me, teasing me with the key, asking me if I wanted him to free my hands. I really didn't know what to say. I wanted to say, "Yes, free my hands", but I was afraid that if I did he would then refuse to out of meanness. He began to touch me with his hand and while he was behind me I felt him become excited again.

He stepped back in front of me and grabbed tube of lotion or oil and covered himself down there with it and then walked back around to behind me. His hands grabbed me and he was so forceful and strong I wasn't able to fight. I tried so hard to keep him from entering back there but I couldn't stop him. It hurt so badly and I screamed as I was torn. This undoubtedly is one of the things he did that cause me to need surgery to fix a perforated bowl.

I remember vividly thinking to myself that this is really happening. I'm being raped, I'm being sodomized. I kept thinking about my dad, little sister, family, and friends being told by the police that a hiker found my lifeless body faced down in woods. I pictured my dad falling to the ground unable to understand what happened.

I felt that bastard breathe on the back of my neck and head. I can still feel the damp heat of his breath and the smell of cigarettes.

I wanted to be able to write more but I can't right now.

Changes In Me

I have noticed some changes in me, more specifically in my personality and perception of those around me. I think my family and close friends see a difference but they can hardly put their fingers on what those changes are. In many respects I am still the same person I always was. I still have this overwhelming urge to figure things out rather it be how things work, why people do this or that, and why I am the way I am. My therapist has told me that my curiosity is a good thing because it will help me in my healing process by compelling me to self-examine. I guess that makes sense. She has also told me to try not to over-examine myself. I'm not sure what she meant by that, but I'm guessing she's worried that my perceptions of my own inner demons will differ from that of a trained professional's perception.

Below are a few of the changes I have noticed:

Personality:

Some of the changes in my personality include me being less comfortable in front of people. This lack of comfort isn't only in front of strangers but also in front of my close friends and family. It seems like my comfort in front of close friends and family shouldn't have changed; after all my assault didn't change them, but it did change my perception of things. This discomfort causes me to keep to myself in my everyday life. I seldom leave the security of my home and when I do I am so hyper aware of everything around me that I'm unable to enjoy what I'm doing. For example the simple act of hanging out with friends makes me uncomfortable. I don't mean a little uncomfortable, but nauseatingly uncomfortable. I think the reason it makes me so uncomfortable is because I now view outside my home as dangerous and inside as safe and much of the conversational topics seem to be trivial. 

Even before this happened to me I have never considered myself to be an extraordinarily happy person, nor have I considered myself to be sad or depressed. I use to smile but to be honest with you I can't remember the last time I spontaneously smiled because I was happy. Don't get me wrong I have smiled since my assault but it was purposeful and for other's benefit instead of my own. I have described this attempt to give off an impression of a well mental health as wearing a mask or disguise. Essentially I think that's what I'm doing, putting on a show for others so they don't worry about me. It's uncomfortable, tiring, and even nauseating to keep it up for long periods of time. Just the 7 hours I spend in school drains the life out of me and often it discourages me because I feel like I haven't healed and never will.

Perception:

I have noticed that I look at things differently than I did before. I laugh on the inside at things people find important or devastating. Many of the same things are the same as I found important or troubling before my assault. I use to worry about how people I go to school with thought of me, but now I don't care. I use to worry about some very trivial and temporary things like my hair color, split ends, do my clothes match my shoes, and do my shoes match my purse. Now whenever I am trying to hang around my friends I have this urge to tell them to shut up and quit complaining about the zit you have on your forehead or that your parents won't buy you a dress. I get so angry over hearing people complain over stuff that doesn't matter. I have one friend who complains about her mother all the time, but sometimes I want to stop her in the middle of her rant and tell her at least she still has her mom. For once I want my friends to complain about something that matters. I know how stupid and selfish that sounds and believe me I wouldn't wish real problems on anyone, especially not my friends and family.

It just seems like so much has changed in my life and it will never go back to the way it was before when I was carefree. I think going through the assault I and so many others have, can cause us to grow up mentally and emotionally much sooner than usual.

Since I am sort of losing my train of thought and on the verge of rambling on for pages and pages, I'm going to finish this with one final statement.

The fact of an ever moving time disallows us to change what has already happened, however all actions in life rather it be pleasant or disheartening has an innate ability to teach us a lesson about the value of life. It's our responsibility to open our eyes and ears to the lessons that are often costly so that they don't set out to teach the deaf and blind.

10 Phone Calls

Very early Saturday afternoon I started making phone calls to let the 10 adoptive families know how sorry I was for me losing the baby that could potentially have become their baby. It was without a doubt the most difficult news I have ever had to tell someone. Everyone was very supportive to me and none of them gave the impression that they thought I was to blame. Still, there were moments of silence where I knew they felt a huge disappointment and I can't help but feel bad about it. I wasn't able to get in touch with all 10 of them because 2 of them didn't answer the phone and I wasn't going to leave a message on voice mail. Of course they already know about the miscarriage; dad called the adoption agency not long after we got home from the hospital Wednesday and the agency notified them being that they were the final ten.

The majority of the conversations were very clinical in nature where we expressed a sympathy toward one another but didn't invite further conversation. There was one conversation that became very personal and lasted nearly 30 minutes. This woman was very kind and she asked me how I was handling losing the baby. I explained in some detail to her what I was thinking in regards to the miscarriage. Then she asked a question that I wasn't expecting, "What does the babies father think about all of this"? I inadvertently blurted out, "I don't know if he knows and I really don't care".

As you can imagine, this sparked an entirely new conversation. There I was talking to this woman who was wanted to adopt my baby and telling her personal information about how this all came to be. She spent much of the time trying to console me while my brain kept spewing out details I'm sure she had zero desire to know about.

After I got off the phone with that woman, I couldn't help but feel bad for dumping my emotions on her. It was unfair for me to do so. I should have simply told her that the baby's father wasn't a part of my life, but instead I told her stuff that will likely add to her pain. I sort of feel selfish for using her as an emotional release.

I guess I will try and call the other two today.

I'm just trying to hold myself together and not fall apart.

I Really Feel Like I Can't Take Much More Crap In My Life

This morning while I was asleep in bed I kept being awakened by very mild stomach cramps. Later after the alarm clock let me know it was time to get up to get ready for school I noticed that I had been spotting. Although it slightly concerned me I had heard that it can often happen during pregnancy and more often than not, it's not big deal.

Later while at school those very mild stomach cramps kept getting worse, and the entire area down there felt damp. I asked my teacher if I could go to restroom and once in the restroom I noticed that the spotting had turned into bleeding. I knew what was going on, I knew what was happening.

I used my cell phone to call my dad. He was having trouble understanding what I was trying to say. I wasn't ready for this baby, I didn't what a baby under these circumstances, but somehow I was crying and shaking so much that I couldn't talk clearly. Dad still somehow managed to understand enough and told me to find a teacher, but I couldn't leave. Dad finally told me just to wait there and someone will come get me.

I could hear him talking to someone else on his office phone and then he told me that a teacher or someone else from the school was on their way to me. Dad also told me that he was on his way to my school. A few minutes passed and the school counselor asked, "Jaime, are you in here"?

By the time I somewhat composed myself and we walked to the office in the front of the school dad was running in through the front door. Although the school had already called an ambulance dad insisted that it would be quicker for him to drive me to the hospital. To make a long story short, I miscarried.

I simply can't understand why I am so sad over losing something that I didn't want in the first place. Maybe it's because I had built this whole pregnancy as being the positive result from a negative action that I can give the world and two deserving adoptive parents. I really don't know what to think right now, my mind is sort of in a sludge. I feel like I am stuck in a pit of quicksand and each time I reach for a the edge, it gets further away.

What was left of the life that was inside me was sucked out and discarded in a treatment called Vacuum Aspiration. I feel so horrible like I am to blame for this. After getting home I Googled Vacuum Aspiration because I am a curious person. I guess I probably shouldn't have looked it up so soon. It's also a method used for the purpose of abortion. Now I understand there's a vast separation between Vacuum Aspiration after a miscarriage vs. for the purpose of an abortion, but I am left with this very icky feeling.

No more than 5 days ago we had finally narrowed the list of adoptive parents down to 10 and we had already met with 3 of them. What am I going to tell them? How do I explain that I failed them? 

I really feel like I can't take much more crap in my life.

But On The Inside

A smile with a pat on the back,
and everyone thinks I'm okay.
They're unaware of a sad fact,
of how I'm trembling and afraid.
An outward disguise,
but on the inside....

I openly share my inner shame,
and everyone thinks I'm brave.
They're unaware of the self-blame,
and how my fears make me a slave.
Just an outward lie,
but on the inside....

-Jaime

Virgin or Not Virgin

I was recently commenting on another survivor's blog in regards to virginity and how I view it in terms of being raped. I want to explain what my feelings of it are in greater detail here, and ask others what they think about it.

Ever since my mom and dad reluctantly decided to explain the birds and the bees, they have taught me that sex is a very special thing to be shared between loving couples. Sex isn't something that to be shared lightly and without thought. Of course they drilled it into my head that it would be best to wait until I was married but they also taught me the whole safe sex yada, yada, yada.

Because of the way they raised me and how my own personal beliefs have grown as a result of their guidance. Several years ago I decided to wait until I became married or at least in a serious, committed, and loving relationship before having sex. To be honest, I figured I would be in my early 20's, probably about to graduate from college before I became that seriously involved in a relationship.

When I was being assaulted there were many thoughts and fears going through my mind. Although I have thought about virginity and how my assault affects it many times since, I just recently while reading another survivors blog did I realize I had a passing thought of it during my assault. The pressing question is seemingly a simple one. "Am I still a virgin"?

The online dictionary defines a virgin as:

Virgin: (noun)

“A person, who has never had sexual intercourse“.

I guess that's pretty straightforward and clinical. If you have sexual intercourse you are no longer a virgin. The same online dictionary defines sexual intercourse as:

Sexual intercourse: (noun)

“Sex involving penetration: an act carried out for reproduction or pleasure involving penetration, especially one in which a man inserts his erect penis into a woman's vagina“.

With the circumstances of rape and these definitions in mind, I want to propose some questions and answer them according to my own personal belief and understanding. Please by all means feel free to contribute your own personal beliefs in this matter.

Can a person be forced to have sex?

It is my opinion that a person regardless of cohesion or physical control can not be forced to have sex. The reason why from a clinical, pure definition based viewpoint is for penetration to count as sex it has to be for the purpose of reproduction or pleasure. The purpose of reproduction is to bring a new life into the world; and pleasure being to indulge in a form of either emotional or physical gratification. Therefore rape can not be concluded to be sex because it is neither for the purpose of reproduction or a mutual form of gratification. 

If a person is a virgin and then forcefully penetrated during a sexual assault, are they still a virgin?

It is my opinion that a person regardless penetration can not have their virginity stolen from them. The reason being from a clinical, pure definition based viewpoint is because being a virgin means having not yet had sexual intercourse. And sexual intercourse means penetration for the purpose of reproduction or mutual pleasure. As a result, forced penetration can not be the catalysts from virgin to non-virgin.

Clinical definitions and reasoning are fine and direct to the point but in reality an action as vile as rape has an extremely high level of personal connotations. Thus a clinical explanation could never fit the vast expanses and diversity of the human mind and its complicated emotional structure. Each of us has our own personal beliefs and emotions that define for us what sex and virginity are. I will try to explain my own personal beliefs of what constitutes virginity.

I think virginity is far less about the physical act of sex than it is about the willingness of the individuals involved and the emotions attributed to the act.

Ever since I was taught and became aware of what sex is, I have viewed it as an emotional and physical sharing between two people. It’s a gesture and an emotional gift of sorts, thus a first intentional sharing of ourselves with another is what relinquishes our virginity. During the physical penetration of rape, although our bodies and emotions were so violated, our willingness can't be forced, nor can virginity be taken. That boils down to one fact that I need to keep drilling into my head; I am still a virgin in the pure sense of the word. Anyone who was or is a virgin at the time of their rape is also a virgin after the fact.

It's Probably A Good Thing

Before all of this happened to me I never once thought about harming myself. I never thought about killing myself. After this happened to me I thought about downing a bottle of pills and chasing it with vodka to make sure it slowed my system down enough to do the job. Hell, I even have a razor blade that I made plans on using. I wrote a note explaining why I killed myself. These weren't passing thoughts. These were well thought out plans that I had every intention on carrying out.

September 20th I found out that I was pregnant. Everything changed. I no longer planned on harming myself. For me to do that to myself now, would be the same to me as me having an abortion.

Sometimes lately, especially times like right at this moment. I regret that I am pregnant. Not because of how hard being pregnant will be on me or because the birth will undoubtedly be excruciatingly painful, but because I can't in good conscious down a bottle of pills and chase it with vodka or use the razor to spill my life. I am trapped in this unwanted life until this baby is born.

I pretend that I am strong. I keep hoping that if I pretend hard enough, long enough that it will somehow become true. It's just as naive as hoping and wishing that I was never in that van. It's pointless because I could hope and wish for the rest of my life and it wouldn't change one second of time that I spent in his van. Even him pleading guilty doesn't change anything. He will more then likely spend the next 30-50 years in prison for what he did, but it doesn't matter. The things in me that he broke can't be fixed in 30-50 years. I can't fix them in 100 years. Time can't fix this kind of broken. JaimeIsBroken and there's no Band-Aid big enough.

I'm tired of pretending to be brave. I'm tired of acting like I am handling this well. I don't have the strength in me anymore.

I prayed to GOD that he would let me die. I prayed that prayer while I was in the van, and I have prayed it a dozen times before I found out I was pregnant. I am so ashamed to say that I prayed recently that I would lose my baby so that I could send some pills down a vodka water slide without killing the baby. I know how insane these thoughts are and I really don't give a flying fuck right now.

Right now I am angry at GOD for allowing this to happen to me. If he's "our father" and his love towards us is so strong, why didn't he just simply "will" me out of that van. He's all powerful right? It would simply be as complicated as a thought to him, but no, he left me in there to be violated in horrible ways by an evil person that he created.

There's 2 possibilities. 1) God views us with disgust and as if we are dirt to be scraped off his boot. - OR - 2) He doesn't exist and we are simply the random results of the interaction between matter and energy that somehow created self-awareness.

Dad will probably see this post on my blog. Hell, I might block him so that he doesn't. I really don't know. He'll probably try to use my pregnancy as a lesson of sorts and tell me that it's probably a good thing I became pregnant so that I wouldn't hurt myself.

If I'm this messed up now, how am I going to be once the hormonal change makes me emotional?

Part 3 What Happened To Me

I guess now that he has pled guilty I will try to write more about what happened to me.

I'm not sure where he drove us to. I do know it was across the Ohio River and into Indiana because of my cell phone records. Not long after 11 pm when I was suppose to be at home my cell phone began to ring. I could hear it ringing, but it only rang a few times. After I was released nearly a day later I found out that my dad was the one calling, and after he tried a few times the phone had been turned off. Dad began to call the parents of my friends and ask them if they knew where I was. That's when each of my friends who were at the mall with me that night told my dad that they left me at the mall with a guy. By 2 am or so in the morning dad decided to call the police. It didn't take the police long to start to understand what was happening. They went over to that guys house and woke up his parents but he hadn't come home either. That's when they tried to track my cell phone but according to them it had already been turned shutoff. They did know that the last cell tower to pickup a signal from my phone was in Indiana.

Whenever the detectives were getting my statement at the hospital they wanted to know where that guy had driven me. In all honesty I had very little idea. I could only tell them that it was about 15-20 minutes away from where the initial assault took place and I thought he parked inside of a garage. I still don't know for sure where he took me. As far as I know he hasn't told the police.

After he parked the van he came into the back of the van where I was at. I never will forget the words that he said to me, "You can scream all you want to now because no one will hear you, no one will come for you, and no one will find you". I began again to ask him to let me go, but he just laughed. I asked him why he was doing this to me and he simply said, "because it is fun".

He walked over to me and I was so scared that he was going to rape me again or hit in the face and stomach. I told him please don't several times. He didn't hurt me again right away. He used a piece of my torn clothes that was on the floor and got it wet with some water out of a water bottle. He used it to wash the blood off my face and my forearms. He whispered quietly to me as he wiped away the blood as if he was doing me a kindness. By this time my left eye was almost swollen shut. He had the same kind sound in his voice that he had when we was at the mall, but the kind sound was just a lie. It was all a lie, nothing about him was kind. It took him several minutes to finish cleaning off the blood.

He told me that he was going to make me more comfortable, then we would start again. I didn't understand what he meant by "more comfortable", but I unfortunately understood what he meant by "start again". He reached into an overhead compartment and pulled out what I first thought was a deflated raft for a swimming pool, but as he was airing it up I could tell that it was one of those blowup guest mattresses. Once he finished airing it up he centered it on the floor just in front of me.

As I watched him get undressed I cried and begged him again to let me go. He didn't say anything. He stood there at the opposite end of the mattress completely naked. There was a cooler in the corner that he reached into and pulled out a can of beer. He then sat down on the cooler and began to drink the beer. He asked me if I wanted one but I said no I just wanted to go home. He also took the time to smoke a cigarette. The entire time he was naked and staring at me naked with my wrists still in handcuffs over my head.

I was hoping to be able to tell more but I can't right now. It's all still so messed up.

He Pled Guilty

The above picture says it all. The guy who raped me plead guilty to assault in the first degree, rape in the first degree, and abduction. Originally they were also charging him with rape of a minor and transportation of a minor across state lines for the purpose of a criminal or sexual act. Those two charges were dropped. I was told and through my own investigation of the laws in Kentucky that because the age of consent allows for an 18 year old and 16 year old to have sex. Even though it wasn't consensual the prosecutor decided that it would be more of a distraction if it ended up going to trial. So they stuck with the three main charges that he did plead guilty of, and confess to.

___________________________________________________

508.010 Assault in the first degree.

A person is guilty of assault in the first degree when:

(a) He intentionally causes serious physical injury to another person by means of a deadly weapon or a dangerous instrument; or 

(b) Under circumstances manifesting extreme indifference to the value of human life he wantonly engages in conduct which creates a grave risk of death to another and thereby causes serious physical injury to another person.

Punishment: Can be 2-20 years. By law 85% of sentence has to be served before eligibility for parole.

___________________________________________________

510-010 Rape In The First Degree.

A person is guilty of rape in the first degree (Class A Felony) when:

A victim under 12 or seriously injured

Punishment: can be 20 - 50 years. I couldn't find the minimum percentage of time served.

___________________________________________________

509.040 Abduction/Kidnapping/Unlawful Imprisonment:

A person is guilty of abduction, kidnapping, or unlawful imprisonment when:

To hold the victim for ransom or reward; or

To accomplish or to advance the commission of a felony; or

To inflict bodily injury or to terrorize the victim or another; or

To interfere with the performance of a governmental or political function; or

To use him or her as a shield or hostage; or

To deprive the parents or guardian of the custody of a minor, when the person taking the minor is not a person exercising custodial control or supervision of the minor.

Kidnapping is a Class B felony when the victim is released alive and in a safe place prior to trial. Kidnapping is a Class A felony when the victim is released alive but the victim has suffered serious physical injury during the kidnapping, or as a result of not being released in a safe place, or as a result of being released in any circumstances which are intended, known or should have been known to cause or lead to serious physical injury. Kidnapping is a capital offense when the victim is not released alive or when the victim is released alive but subsequently dies as a result of serious physical injuries suffered during the kidnapping; or not being released in a safe place; or being released in any circumstances which are intended, known or should have been known to cause or lead to the victim’s death.

PUNISHMENT: Can be according to KRS § 532.060, for a Class A felony, sentence of imprisonment is not less than 20 years and not more than 50 years, or life imprisonment. For a Class B felony, sentence is not less than 10 years and not more than 20 years.

____________________________________________________

I was sitting in the back roll for about 2 or 3 minutes before they walked him out through one of the doors. He had an orange jump suit and was being escorted by an officer on either side of him. He only looked up from the floor for a few short seconds. He scanned to room and his eyes landed on his mom and dad. He then briefly looked at me before looking back at the floor as he was escorted to a chair next to his lawyer. He quietly sat there only nodding his head a few times in response to whatever his lawyer had whispered to him. 

As we waited for the judge to begin to speak I felt so sick. I kept fighting this urge to run out the door. Dad had his arm wrapped around me and grandma was holding my hand. I could tell that my dad became angry when seeing him walk into the courtroom because he stiffened up and his breathing changed. I know the both of us were being flooded with a surge of adrenalin.

Finally the court clerk began to speak followed by the judge. 

The judge asked, "To the charge of assault in the first degree, how does the defendant plead"? 

"Guilty", said the defendant.

The judge asked, "To the charge of rape in the first degree, how does the defendant plead"?

"Guilty", said the defendant.

The judge asked, "To the charge of abduction, how does the defendant plead"?

"Guilty", said the defendant.

I couldn't help it, I began to cry. I felt such a feeling of relief as the word guilty came out of his mouth. A sense that I could finally take a deep breath without choking on the air came over me. His parents who were sitting a few rolls behind him also sat there quietly. His mom stared downward and his dad's head nodded up and down as he pled guilty to each charge.

He was in the courtroom no more than 5 or 6 minutes then he was escorted back out the same door he came in through.

Sentencing is scheduled for December 20th, 2011. 

When we walked out of the courtroom into the lobby area, dad, grandma, and I hugged each other. We were getting ready to walk down the stairs to the ground floor when that guys parents walked up to us. Dad instinctively stood between them and me. That guy's father said to my dad, "We are sorry for what our son did to your daughter and your family". He and his wife then walked away.

As I sit here trying to write this post, I can't help but feel a little bad for his parents. I'm sure the shame they are feeling toward their own son is hard to deal with. I want to tell them that I hold no anger toward them, only their son, but I don't think there's anything I can say that will help them.

I'm just glad to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

My Mom

For the past month since I was raped I have been thinking about a lot of different things. There's a few things that's never far from my mind. The number one thing is what happened to me, but the other biggest thing is my mother. Some of you know that my mother is no longer alive, some of you may not. Either way I want to tell you about her and explain beyond the obvious why I miss her so much and why she's no longer with us.

My was born and raised in Alabama, USA. She was only 18 years old when I was born and when she married my father who was only 17. Still with her and my father being so young they still managed to raise me the right way in my humble opinion.

I miss my mom and I need her so much right now to understand and comfort me, but she's not here. My dad and others tell me that she is here with us, but I know it is just a statement used in an attempt to make me feel better. I have never told anyone this before, but there is times I talk to her just like she is here. I speak to her as if she is taking part in the conversation. I don't really hear her talk back to me, but I do imagine what her words would be. Ever since I was raped I have tried to have several conversations with her but I don't hear her because I don't know what she would be telling me. I have no idea what she would say to me, but I know it would make things not hurt so bad. If she was here she would wrap her arms around me to make me feel safe and tell me something, anything to make me feel better. 

It's not fair that my mom is no longer here. It's not fair that she had to leave me and my family. It's not fair that I was hurt so badly by an evil person and I don't even have my mom to lean on.

Will He Plead Guilty Or Innocent

This coming Tuesday on the 4th, the guy who raped me will be in court to plead guilty or innocent. He will be charged with 1st degree assault, 1st rape, abduction of a minor, transportation of a minor across state lines, unlawful imprisonment, and rape of a minor.

He has already confessed to rape. I don't know if he has confessed to the rest of the charges or if it even really matters. I worry that even with the confession he will plead innocent and cause this whole nightmare to be dragged out further then it needs to be. They have so much evidence against him that I don't see how he could get away with what he did.

I am going to try my best to be in the courtroom when he pleads. I want to hear the word "guilty" come out of his mouth. I want to hear him take responsibility for his actions. I want this to be over with.

I was told that I can view the courtroom by TV screen if I am unable to be in the courtroom, but I think and my therapists thinks that if I choose to do this in person it will be a big step for me personally toward healing. I guess I am asking what others think about this. Is it worth risking becoming uncontrollably fearful in front of him? Has anyone else done this and did it help?