Chapter 3

We finally left the courthouse and headed home. I listened to my parents talking about the agreement that the judge had made with me. They ignored the fact that I had been alone in his chambers with him and his bailiff for over an hour and had come out crying and looking like I'd been in a wrestling match ... and lost. I wondered if they honestly had no inkling of what had happened to me in there!

They discussed my sixty days working for the judge and his wife. They assumed that I would be doing housework. They thought he wanted a maid. They talked about how good this opportunity was going to be for me. I was going to learn how to be a responsible individual. I was going to develop discipline.

While I thought it was possible that I would be doing housework, and I would more than likely be disciplined, I had a very good idea what the judge really had in mind for me over the next two months. I just didn't know how he was going to keep it from his wife.

I was sitting slumped down in the backseat, absently rubbing my aching stomach with one hand and listening to my parents being stupid. I closed my eyes and tried not to think about what had just happened to me in the judge's chambers. I wasn't doing a very good job of it.

I felt Laura's hand come down on mine. She squeezed my hand affectionately. I opened my eyes and looked over at her. She was crying. She looked more devastated than I was. She knew! Somehow she knew. Not everything, of course. Not the details. But she knew.

I turned my hand over and squeezed hers. I winked at her and tried to smile. I probably shouldn't have. She saw my pained smile and she mouthed the words, "I'm sorry."

I shook my head and whispered, "You have nothing to be sorry for."

And our parents sat up front, totally oblivious.

What a pair!

I sat back and closed my eyes again. Laura and I held hands the rest of the way home. Our parents climbed out of the car and mom said, "Come on, girls. Let's have lunch."

We waited until our parents were out of earshot and Laura tearfully asked, "Are you alright?"

I sighed and said, "Yeah. Nothing happened to me that doesn't happen to girls every day."

She threw her arms around my neck and nearly broke it as she pulled me close. She kept telling me over and over how sorry she was. I'm not sure why she was apologizing. We both knew that I brought this down on myself.

I gently pulled her arms down and lifted her chin until our eyes met. I smoothed her hair down and said, "Relax, twerp. You didn't do anything wrong. I did. I'm being punished. Hell! Maybe I'll learn something from it after all."

She sobbed and exclaimed, "They raped you! Jesus, Lindsey! You were raped and you're just sitting there! You don't take shit from anyone! Why aren't you screaming bloody murder?!"

I shrugged and said, "This way it all goes away and no one gets hurt."

She quietly responded, "You mean I don't get hurt."

I smiled and said, "Why should you pay for my mistakes?"

She exclaimed, "Lindsey! You can't let them get away with this!"

I sighed and said, "They already did. Who is going to make it right, mom and dad? You heard them. They think this is a perfect opportunity for me. They saw the same things you saw. Dad may oblivious. But you can't convince me that mom doesn't have a clue. The important thing is that her baby is going to get her life back. And Laura, she's right. I couldn't live with myself if your life got screwed up because I was such a shit. As sisters go you hardly suck at all. I am so sorry that I involved you in this. I love you, even if you are a twerp. Now come on. Quit crying. Let's go get out of these funny clothes."

We finally went inside. We hurried upstairs to our rooms and changed clothes. I went to the bathroom and cleaned up a little more thoroughly. I was shocked at the amount of cum that drained out of me since I put my clothes back on in that asshole's chambers. I put my dirty underwear and mom's pantyhose under the bed. I didn't dare put them in the hamper.

I put on a pair of shorts and a halter top and went downstairs to help with lunch. Laura was already there. Lunch was just leftover tuna casserole. Laura had already set the table. I got a dirty look when I came down, apparently because Laura had to set the table all by herself.

I was tasked with getting dad from the backyard. He was leaning on the fence talking with our neighbor. I called out to him that lunch was ready and then I went back inside.

We waited a few minutes but he didn't come right in so we served ourselves. I had to wait for dad to tell them that I was going to need some new clothes. I wasn't looking forward to that. Well, no. I kind of was. I was so pissed at them that I found I really didn't mind pissing them off a little more.

I began to eat. It was a little painful to swallow solid food at first. But after a few minutes the pain seemed to go away. We sat in silence while we ate. That was pretty much the normal state of being around here since we were arrested.

Dad finally joined us. I waited until he started to eat to mention that Judge Porter had ordered me to be dressed conservatively when I went to his house to work.

I got dirty looks from both parents. Dad said, "So he thinks we are going to reward you with a new wardrobe for nearly turning Laura into a felon! Not very damned likely!"

I was just about to point out that if I did not meet all the terms of the agreement he had laid out then Laura might end up being tried and convicted. But before I could speak, mom said, "I can take her to thrift shop. We can probably pick up half a dozen nice dresses for under fifty dollars. That should last her until the sixty days is up and she turns back into the slut she has been for several years now."

I glared at her until dad said, "Don't you dare look at your mother like that! You aren't too old to take over my knee!"

I looked down at my plate. But I said, "I am not a slut! I don't dress like a nun. That doesn't make me a slut."

Dad glowered at me for a moment and said, "Go to your room. I can't deal with you anymore today. I had to take a day off without pay to take you to court. I wasted half a day sitting on my ass. And all we get from you is lip. I swear. I don't know where we went wrong with you. We raised both you girls the same. Look at how well Laura turned out! What the hell is wrong with you?!"

I stood up and calmly replied, "You didn't raise us both the same, dad. Once Laura was born I was just the kid you had to put up with. You have never looked at me with love in your eyes the way you look at Laura."

They seemed stunned. They didn't even give me hell as I turned and headed stiffly for the stairs. I was already half way up the stairs when my mother called out in astonishment, "Lindsey!"

I just ignored her. But before I reached the top of the stairs my father bellowed at me to get my ass back down there. I stood at the top of the stairs for just a moment before deciding that I might as well face them now. I turned and made my way back to the kitchen.

Laura was looking at me in shock and crying quietly. My mother and father looked so offended that I almost laughed. Dad exploded, "That was a terrible thing to say! How could you say a horrible thing like that to your mother and me?! We have always treated you two girls exactly alike!"

I looked at him as if he had just told me the earth was flat. But it looked like he honestly believed what he was saying. I almost let it go. They might hear the words I was going to say. The meaning would escape them. But after what happened to me today I guess that I needed to unload on someone.

I tried to remain calm. I didn't want them to see me cry. I didn't want them to see how much it hurt. I quietly replied, "Never, not in all the time I can remember, have you treated us alike. My earliest memories are of you coming home from work and greeting Laura with that doting father look on your face, picking her up and hugging her and turning to me only to ask if my homework was done. I can't count the nights I cried myself to sleep wishing you would look at me just once with the look of love that came over your face when you saw Laura."

They were staring at me now like I had two heads. But I had only just begun. "The difference in the way you feel about us colored our entire lives. For instance, at Christmas, Laura always got the Barbie Dolls while I got the similar, slightly less expensive dolls. When I stopped playing with dolls and tried to give mine to Laura she wouldn't even take them! But it wasn't the gifts. I supposed they rubbed salt in the wound. But I didn't care about that so much."

"For the first four years of grade school I always came home bursting with pride when I got my report cards with straight A's. One of you would always sign it without comment and then you would fawn over some painting that Laura had done in art class."

"From the time I was about eleven or twelve, mom would come into the living room when Laura and I were watching television during the day. She would order me to do laundry and then she would take Laura by the hand and say, 'Come on, dear. Come help momma make a pie or come into the kitchen and let's make cookies.' I would spend the day washing and drying clothes, folding them or hanging them up and putting them away. I even ironed your collars hoping you would be grateful for the extra touch, though I don't think you ever noticed. I'd finally finish up and come downstairs in time to set the supper table to find the three of you in the kitchen where you were praising Laura for the culinary delights that she had whipped up."

"When dad had to work on Saturdays you always sent me out to mow the grass. I couldn't even start the damned mower! I always had to wait for someone walking by or go next door and ask the neighbor to start the mower for me. I worked my ass off wrestling that damned mower around the yard and no one even noticed."

"Are you aware that you have been giving Laura an allowance since she was twelve? You have never given me an allowance! Just before I turned fourteen I started babysitting to earn a little money to buy CDs or a little cheap costume jewelry to treat myself. As soon as I started bringing home money you informed me that it was time I started buying my own clothes now that I had money coming in. I started working and ended up with a net loss! I had to start saving all of my money just so that I could afford new clothes for school! You object to everything I wear. But you have not ever given me an allowance and you haven't bought me any clothing since I turned fourteen. The only exception is that ugly dress that you bought me to wear today."

"Now I see that look of astonishment on your faces as if you honestly didn't realize who the redheaded stepchild was around here. I don't know what it was that I must have done when I was three or four years old. I can't remember back that far. Or was it just that I wasn't your cute, cuddly princess? But don't you ever try to tell me that you treated the two of us alike! I have always been treated like I was a homeless waif taken in off the streets and raising me was just your civic duty.

I turned and left the room. I wasn't done. I had many more examples of discrepancies between the way we they treated us. But I couldn't hold back the tears any longer and I didn't want them to see me cry. So I calmly turned and hurried back upstairs. They never said a word.

I went in and threw myself down on my bed. I cried like a baby for a few minutes. But I was only crying because I was mad. I hardly felt the pain anymore. I finally got up and wiped my eyes. I sat at my desk. I didn't have any homework. We missed school today but we didn't really miss anything. We only have two and a half more days of school before vacation starts. They weren't doing anything but handing in books and cleaning up classrooms and emptying desks.

I stared at my computer. It was powered down. I thought about booting it up and checking my email. But I wasn't really in the mood to start lying to my friends about what happened today.

I didn't want to think about it either. But I kept seeing it happen in my mind. I could picture what those two men saw as I stood in that small room and undressed and was raped. I could see their eyes as they lusted for my body and I could hear their heavy breathing as they raped me so violently. And that was just the casting call. The real play didn't start until Friday.

There was a quiet tap on my door. I didn't say anything. I said all that I wanted to say to my parents for the time being. There was another soft tap and finally the door slowly opened.

I was all set to ask to be left alone. But it wasn't one of my parents. It was Laura. She was crying so hard she could hardly breathe. She managed to ask if she could come in. I got up and went to her. I wasn't mad at her. She wasn't responsible for the way my parents had treated me.

I held her in my arms and through her tears she was finally able to say, "I didn't know! How could I not know! Oh god! Lindsey! I'm so sorry!"

Then she broke down completely. I held her tight and fought back my own tears. I responded, "Don't cry, Laura. I'm not upset with you. You and I have always been close. I love you. It wasn't anything that you did."

She sobbed and exclaimed through her tears, "But I never even noticed! How could I not notice?!"

I replied, "Because it was just the way that things were. You didn't see it because it didn't affect you. It wasn't happening to you. You probably thought that I was being treated differently because I was older or because I was a screw-up. But I wasn't always a screw-up. I don't think that I realized until just now that I have probably been reacting to the way they treated me. I didn't spend my time dwelling on it. Now please stop crying or I'm going to start."

We sat down on my bed and held hands until she got herself under control. We didn't speak. Not for a long time. Then, out of the blue she said, "Tell me about it. Tell me what happened in that room today. And what is this shit about being a maid?!"

I shuddered in revulsion as the events that took place this morning flooded back to the forefront of my mind. I didn't want to think about what had happened to me in that room. I quietly said, "You don't need to hear about that. And I don't feel like talking about it."

She fought back more tears and said, "No. I don't want to hear about it. I am horrified that it happened. But you were raped. You need to talk about it. You can't bottle that up inside of you like you have bottled up your feelings about the way mom and dad have treated you. You'll go crazy. I can't have you going crazy. You're my big sister. I love you. I need you. And right now you need me. You have to talk about this. Or would you rather that I told mom and dad?"

I smiled and asked, "Are you blackmailing me, too?"

She smiled wryly and said, "You were raped because of me. You are hurting because of me. I can't make it go away. But I can help you let it out. Talk to me."

I sighed and said, "Laura, I was not raped because of you. You were arrested because of me. I was raped because ... because I have a vagina and they knew they could get away with it. And apparently they were right. I could tell from the way they talked that I am not the first person they have done this to. But it ... what they did was disgusting. You don't want to hear about it. Trust me."

She sighed and responded, "No. I don't want to hear about it. But I need to. And you need to talk about it. Look at you! Your all wound up as tight as a spring."

I didn't say anything for a minute or two. I don't remember deciding to tell her what happened. But after a few minutes I started talking in a quiet monotone. I could hear my voice but it didn't sound like me. I told her most of what happened. I left out the gory details, the smells, the tastes, the pain, and the humiliation.

I hated putting the burden on her. But she was right. It did help to talk about it. We were both crying by the time I finished. We sat on my bed and held each other and cried quietly for a long time.

After several minutes she asked, "What was it like? When he first put it in you I mean. Did it hurt? Did you bleed a lot?"

I was still confused about those first few moments. I thought about it and finally answered, "I don't think I had a hymen. I don't think I ever had one. I examined myself down there. And I had to watch what I was doing when I inserted a tampon. I never saw a membrane blocking my vagina. And when he raped me today I didn't bleed. But it wasn't like I tore it in gym or on horseback or something. I've never ridden a horse and I've never bled when I wasn't having my period. So I don't know what happened there. It did hurt. But it was not because he tore anything. It hurt because he was so damned violent and he stretched me so much. He slammed into me like a fucking jackhammer and it hurt like hell."