Most teenagers spend their Monday nights doing homework and complaining to their friends about having a whole week of school ahead of them, but not me.

Instead, this Monday night, I’m being interrogated by a police officer in the confines of my cream themed room. She’s ruthless with the questions but I don’t answer. I won’t answer because I physically cannot. My mouth refuses to proclaim what I am proclaiming internally in my soul. I’ve become momentarily mute. I know why it’s hard for me to speak. I feel ashamed. My pride will not let me admit that I’ve been robbed of my innocence.

With a huff, she leaves the room and rants to my parents saying that speaking to me is like speaking to a wall. Which is impossible, because unlike a wall, I am wearing all the answers on my face.

It sucks that I can’t say it out loud, what he did to me, because I really want justice to be served. Then it hit me, maybe I didn’t have to answer the questions audibly.

Interrupting my parent’s conversation with the police officer I ask, “Would it work if I wrote down everything you needed to know instead of saying it audibly?”
She seems relieved that she would be able to complete her job. I prayed that she would say yes, and she did.

I got to work immediately. I write down everything, from the way it happened to how it made me feel. I exposed my soul on the many blank pages that were now covered in someone else’s sins that I paid for.

Even though I didn’t win the court case against that man, I still won. He didn’t control me anymore and I was no longer his puppet. I was free to live a normal teenage life. I am equally pleased to announce that I’ve gone back to doing homework and complaining to my friends – after all, that’s what I had wanted. I almost feel normal.

He is still out there and my biggest fear is that he’s hurting other girls like he hurt me. I just hope that those girls will find their individual path to justice like I found mine.

In a desperate bid to bring someone else to justice through writing, I found my own release. It was writing. Writing became my escape from my issues, stress and harsh realities of the world. It was also my favorite pastime. I won awards and had my writing on websites.

So, some might say that in order to find inner peace, you need to drink green tea and meditate but for me, all it took was a couple of blank pages.