After hours of researching support groups and trauma, I was drawn into the cause. The more I looked, the more I found. One click led to another. Trauma affected far more people than I had ever imagined. Sexual abuse, sexual assault, physical abuse, emotional abuse, psychological abuse, neglect, domestic violence, the death of a loved one; the list was endless. The more information I found, the more I wanted. This assignment awoke something in me, it made me feel things I had not felt in a long time.
As my thoughts took me down memory lane, a knock at my door made me leap out of my chair, my heart pounded fast and steady in my ears. Jesus Christ. “Just a minute, I’ll be right there.” I always kept my door locked; I didn’t like to be surprised when people entered unannounced. With no windows, I got to escape from the outside world for a little while. I liked it that way.
Jeanine was on the other side of the door, impatiently waiting for me to open it. Her arms were crossed as she peered in at me. "I was beginning to think you weren't in there."
“I’ve been doing research. You told me I have a group to start. Next week. By the way, thanks for the notice.”
“Ha. Ha.” Her arms were still crossed as she walked through the door. “My God, it stinks in here. Do you ever take out your trash?”
"That's not in my scope of practice," I smirked as she sighed. “Is this what you came down here for? To insult my housekeeping skills?”
"You mean lack of housekeeping skills?" She took the files from the chair and placed them on the desk before sitting down. "No, Val, I have a job for you."
“Another one? Jesus, Jeanine, what do you think I am?”
"Funny, Val." She looked directly into my eyes. I hated it when she did that. I know it’s serious when she makes eye contact. “I need you to go up to the emergency department, room three. There was an... accident.”
“Accident? What kind of accident?” Jeanine knew I didn’t go to patient rooms. I strictly worked with families after patients died. I worked in the conference room on the first floor and the morgue. That was it.
“Well, it’s unclear.” She bit her bottom lip. “She’s young... only nineteen.” She shook her head as she closed her eyes.
“You know I don’t work with the living.”
“I know.” Her eyes shot open. “We lost her shortly after they brought her in. They said she did it to herself, but I'm not buying it.”
“What do you mean?” I brushed the hair out of my face as I leaned closer to her.
“I think her boyfriend did it. He’s in there now, with her body. Her mom is, too. I need you to go in there and tell me what you think.”
“Me? How about the police?” Rage began to boil inside me. I didn’t understand why just hearing about this had me so upset.
"They have been called, but her mom needs you. And I want to see what you think. Size him up."
“Ahh, shit. What’s her name? Her mom’s name?”
“Carmen. Her mom is Jane.”
I stood up and put my hair up in a bun. Jeanine followed me out the door, she put her hand on my shoulder. I usually push her off of me, but this time, I accepted the warmth of the gesture. Jeanine went for the elevator, as I headed for the stairs. I needed the extra time to think before reaching her room.
At the door of room three, my body sprouted goosebumps. I took a deep breath before I knocked on the door. “Social Services, this is Valerie.” When I opened the door, I was not prepared for what I saw. I let out a gasp as I got closer to her. Her t-shirt was covered in blood, and her wrists were both wrapped in gauze. Her petite frame was being cradled by her mother as she sang her a lullaby. And he just stood there watching, hovering over them. I could feel the anger pouring off of him. He did not act like he just lost someone he loved. Not in the least.
My desire to hurt him overpowered the devastation of witnessing a mother’s pain as she mourned her child. I wanted to slap him across the face to see if he would even feel it. I wanted to cause him the pain he obviously caused this beautiful, young girl. Her blonde hair framing the sadness on her face.
I asked him to leave and he refused. “I’m not going anywhere. You can’t make me.
“Sir, I just need a few minutes with Jane. Why don’t you go get yourself some air?”
“I said, I’m not leaving.”
“Do I need to call security? Or are you going to step outside for a few minutes?”
He sputtered under his breath, “stupid bitch,” as he left the room. He had to be at least ten years older than Carmen, and the smell of vodka oozed off of him. I did notice the blood on his white t-shirt, as well as his faded blue jeans.
I made my way over to her mother and put my hand on her back. I began to rub up and down. "I'm so sorry for your loss, Jane. Is there anything I can help you with right now?" She let go of Carmen and grabbed hold of me and began to sob.
“Bring my baby back to me, bring her back. Please, God, bring her back.”
I didn't know what to say to her. I couldn’t bring her baby back, no matter how desperately I wanted to. I just held her as she sobbed, stroking her hair, and slowly swayed her back and forth as we stood together. “Oh, Jane, I don’t know what to say.” I sucked back the tears.
I took a step back so I could look at Jane’s face. “Do you know what happened to Carmen?”
“He said she did this to herself. I don’t believe it. My baby was happy, she wouldn’t have done this.”
“Did she ever tell you she felt unsafe with him?”
“No, never. Don’t you think I would have protected my baby if she asked me for help?”
“Yes, of course. I just wanted to see if we could figure out what happened to your beautiful girl.”
“He’s just upset, he’s not a bad guy.” She looked down at Carmen, “He loves her, I know he does.”
The door to the room opened and he walked back in, with a Mountain Dew in his hand. He paced the room as Jane and I watched him. “I gotta get outta here. Come on, man, we gotta go.” He scratched his greasy, ash blonde hair.
“I’m not leaving her. I can’t… not yet.”
His agitation increased with the volume of his voice. “We need to get the fuck out of here now.”
“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to keep your voice down. Jane’s not ready to leave yet, be patient with her.”
“She’s fucken dead. Let’s go.”
Jane’s sobbing filled the room as she fell to her knees and rested her head on the side of Carmen’s bed. “Noooo.”
"Get out." I walked to the door and held it open for him to leave. A nurse in the hall stood and watched.
“Val, you need me to call security?”
"No, thanks, he's leaving. Right?"
He blew past us and ran to the elevator, pushing buttons and banging on the doors, waiting for it to open. I couldn't tell what was wrong with him. I had seen grief look many different ways, but never like this. He was hiding something, that was obvious. I needed to know what. I had worked with countless families who had lost loved ones before and never had they hit me like this one did. Never did anger get to me like this. Never had I wanted revenge.