Mrs. Roffle
What had she done to deserve such inhumane treatment? I couldn’t help but think as I listened to the young girl in front of me. Had her parents really done what she sits here and tells me? Why is she just speaking up now? Is this the only reason she came to me?
“Is something wrong?” She asked curious about the silence.
“I think that’s enough for today thank you.” I said still surprised by her sudden sense of courage to tell me this.
“After a few moments of silence she still sat there trying to catch my glance and asked, “Do I still have to go home?”
This question had surprised me as I looked up and caught her eyes. The look on her face as the tears built up in her eyes made my heart sink. Is there anything I can do at this point? How am I going to take care of this?
“Yes, I’m sorry but you do” I said holding myself together.
I watched as the girl slowly stepped out of the room. I couldn’t help but think, had I been too harsh? Is this really happening to her?
I got home late that night and headed straight for bed, but I could not stop thinking about what the young girl had told me. Should I do something about this? What can I do? Does she want me to do something? I could call the police, but would she want that? Where would she go? Should she have to go through that? However it may be better in the end. I know I can’t allow this to go on.
The next day, the girl walked into class I couldn’t help but watch as she took her seat. Alaina Mckee, how could a girl so beautiful, so young, so smart have to deal with people so disturbing? The school day went by as any other day, however I couldn’t wait until the end. I was scheduled to have another meeting with Alaina about the issue.
“Do you want anyone to know about this?” I asked in a questioning voice. She seemed a bit unsure about the question and kept quiet.
“We can do something about this if you want, you won’t have to be around them anymore. This will all be over.” I said still trying to catch a glance from her. She still remained silent looking into her lap. Maybe I had been too demanding. Maybe she’s not…
“Do you know what will happen?” She asked interrupting my thoughts. This question confused me a little. What will happen? Well, what WILL happen? I guess I don’t even know.
“We can tell the police. They’ll ask you what has been going on. They’ll talk to me, your parents, and anyone they need to in order to get the problem resolved. However you may have to go live with another family member for a while.” I had hoped my explaining didn’t scare her as she sits there in silence. The look on her face shows that she is thinking all of it through. “Is that alright Alaina?
Alaina
The teacher hasn’t stopped staring at me since I told her what my parents had done. Did she listen to me? Or is she just that surprised? Her questions really made me think. Maybe I wasn’t ready to tell people like I thought. I knew something had to be done about it. I knew I didn’t want to live with it anymore, but what do I do? Tell someone else? Tell the police? Does it have to go that far?
Two days after I told Mrs. Roffle, I had told the police. They asked me question after question, some I answered easily and some were quite hard to answer. Then he asked me, what’s my story? Well, what IS my story? He’s about to find out.
It started when I was ten, I proceeded to tell him. My mother had just remarried. He was a strange man, tall and slender, not like many men my mother would date. He was also the last type of guy anyone would expect to do anything wrong. He was your stereotypical nerd, his pens and pencils leaning against his pocket protector in his plaid shirt’s pocket complete with the duct taped glasses he only wore for specific occasions.
It was the one day my mother stayed at work later than usual. She asked us to clean up the house a bit while she was gone. She was having a meeting with her company head tomorrow and she couldn’t stand one thing out of place for the fear she may be judged. My step father decided to make me a deal, which sounded like a pretty good deal to me. I was to clean my room and he would pick up the rest of the house. This was quite the deal until he came into my room and locked the door behind him. He screamed at me to get on the bed and I did as he said in fear of what might happen. I was tied up to the bed and blindfolded so “I could only feel my pain instead of see it.” I was screaming so much my throat hurt and I could barely scream any longer. I couldn’t get him off of me no matter how hard I tried. All he would do is whisper in my ear telling me it will all be alright while I still tried to fight him off me. Then, it was all over. I had just been raped by my own stepdad. He took the blind fold off of me and the first think I saw was the big smirk on his face as he let out a little chuckle, he was proud of what he had done. He untied my hands and I slapped him across the face, I couldn’t help myself it was out of reaction. I looked up at him then saw his hand out of the corner of my eye as he slapped me across the face not realizing his own strength. He then ran to the door, unlocked it and left me there crying to myself on my bed.
I had finally gotten my mother alone and told her what had happened. She proceeded to yell at me and grounded me for lying to her. At that point I officially felt alone, it was me against the world. My mother had told my stepfather what I had told her. That night he trapped me in a corner yelling at me until my Claustrophobia took control. The punishment proceeded to happen over and over to the point it was just unbearable. It took me five years of this abuse until I finally decided to talk about it, and I just knew Mrs. Roffle would be the best person to tell.
Mrs. Roffle
Six months after Alaina had told me her horrific story, six months after the police took control, Alaina had won her case. Alaina’s stepfather was sentenced to life in prison for charges of assault, rape, and second degree murder of Alaina Scott. Alaina lived to be 16 years old; she died three days after her birthday on April 20th from a traumatic brain injury and a gun shot in the chest. She was a true saint, an innocent, beautiful, young girl with a bad family to fall back on. I can never forget the day she told me her story but even more I can never forget sending her home all those times to that family. I fought for 6 months with everything I had to make sure her stepfather was locked away for good.
A memorial was made for Alaina Scott and placed in the middle of town. A statue of a bird with a broken wing and a little angel there to help, some say Alaina is the angel, so sweet and caring and that she would always be there to help us all. Not me, I believe Alaina is the bird, so beautiful with all of the potential in the world. The dreams and hoped to go somewhere but yet, help back by one thing that could not be fixed nor helped.
Most of you probably don’t know Alaina Scott and if you did, I don’t think you would know her like I did. She was pure to the heart but had a difficult home life. This, was Alaina Scott and this, was her story.
What had she done to deserve such inhumane treatment? I couldn’t help but think as I listened to the young girl in front of me. Had her parents really done what she sits here and tells me? Why is she just speaking up now? Is this the only reason she came to me?
“Is something wrong?” She asked curious about the silence.
“I think that’s enough for today thank you.” I said still surprised by her sudden sense of courage to tell me this.
“After a few moments of silence she still sat there trying to catch my glance and asked, “Do I still have to go home?”
This question had surprised me as I looked up and caught her eyes. The look on her face as the tears built up in her eyes made my heart sink. Is there anything I can do at this point? How am I going to take care of this?
“Yes, I’m sorry but you do” I said holding myself together.
I watched as the girl slowly stepped out of the room. I couldn’t help but think, had I been too harsh? Is this really happening to her?
I got home late that night and headed straight for bed, but I could not stop thinking about what the young girl had told me. Should I do something about this? What can I do? Does she want me to do something? I could call the police, but would she want that? Where would she go? Should she have to go through that? However it may be better in the end. I know I can’t allow this to go on.
The next day, the girl walked into class I couldn’t help but watch as she took her seat. Alaina Mckee, how could a girl so beautiful, so young, so smart have to deal with people so disturbing? The school day went by as any other day, however I couldn’t wait until the end. I was scheduled to have another meeting with Alaina about the issue.
“Do you want anyone to know about this?” I asked in a questioning voice. She seemed a bit unsure about the question and kept quiet.
“We can do something about this if you want, you won’t have to be around them anymore. This will all be over.” I said still trying to catch a glance from her. She still remained silent looking into her lap. Maybe I had been too demanding. Maybe she’s not…
“Do you know what will happen?” She asked interrupting my thoughts. This question confused me a little. What will happen? Well, what WILL happen? I guess I don’t even know.
“We can tell the police. They’ll ask you what has been going on. They’ll talk to me, your parents, and anyone they need to in order to get the problem resolved. However you may have to go live with another family member for a while.” I had hoped my explaining didn’t scare her as she sits there in silence. The look on her face shows that she is thinking all of it through. “Is that alright Alaina?
Alaina
The teacher hasn’t stopped staring at me since I told her what my parents had done. Did she listen to me? Or is she just that surprised? Her questions really made me think. Maybe I wasn’t ready to tell people like I thought. I knew something had to be done about it. I knew I didn’t want to live with it anymore, but what do I do? Tell someone else? Tell the police? Does it have to go that far?
Two days after I told Mrs. Roffle, I had told the police. They asked me question after question, some I answered easily and some were quite hard to answer. Then he asked me, what’s my story? Well, what IS my story? He’s about to find out.
It started when I was ten, I proceeded to tell him. My mother had just remarried. He was a strange man, tall and slender, not like many men my mother would date. He was also the last type of guy anyone would expect to do anything wrong. He was your stereotypical nerd, his pens and pencils leaning against his pocket protector in his plaid shirt’s pocket complete with the duct taped glasses he only wore for specific occasions.
It was the one day my mother stayed at work later than usual. She asked us to clean up the house a bit while she was gone. She was having a meeting with her company head tomorrow and she couldn’t stand one thing out of place for the fear she may be judged. My step father decided to make me a deal, which sounded like a pretty good deal to me. I was to clean my room and he would pick up the rest of the house. This was quite the deal until he came into my room and locked the door behind him. He screamed at me to get on the bed and I did as he said in fear of what might happen. I was tied up to the bed and blindfolded so “I could only feel my pain instead of see it.” I was screaming so much my throat hurt and I could barely scream any longer. I couldn’t get him off of me no matter how hard I tried. All he would do is whisper in my ear telling me it will all be alright while I still tried to fight him off me. Then, it was all over. I had just been raped by my own stepdad. He took the blind fold off of me and the first think I saw was the big smirk on his face as he let out a little chuckle, he was proud of what he had done. He untied my hands and I slapped him across the face, I couldn’t help myself it was out of reaction. I looked up at him then saw his hand out of the corner of my eye as he slapped me across the face not realizing his own strength. He then ran to the door, unlocked it and left me there crying to myself on my bed.
I had finally gotten my mother alone and told her what had happened. She proceeded to yell at me and grounded me for lying to her. At that point I officially felt alone, it was me against the world. My mother had told my stepfather what I had told her. That night he trapped me in a corner yelling at me until my Claustrophobia took control. The punishment proceeded to happen over and over to the point it was just unbearable. It took me five years of this abuse until I finally decided to talk about it, and I just knew Mrs. Roffle would be the best person to tell.
Mrs. Roffle
Six months after Alaina had told me her horrific story, six months after the police took control, Alaina had won her case. Alaina’s stepfather was sentenced to life in prison for charges of assault, rape, and second degree murder of Alaina Scott. Alaina lived to be 16 years old; she died three days after her birthday on April 20th from a traumatic brain injury and a gun shot in the chest. She was a true saint, an innocent, beautiful, young girl with a bad family to fall back on. I can never forget the day she told me her story but even more I can never forget sending her home all those times to that family. I fought for 6 months with everything I had to make sure her stepfather was locked away for good.
A memorial was made for Alaina Scott and placed in the middle of town. A statue of a bird with a broken wing and a little angel there to help, some say Alaina is the angel, so sweet and caring and that she would always be there to help us all. Not me, I believe Alaina is the bird, so beautiful with all of the potential in the world. The dreams and hoped to go somewhere but yet, help back by one thing that could not be fixed nor helped.
Most of you probably don’t know Alaina Scott and if you did, I don’t think you would know her like I did. She was pure to the heart but had a difficult home life. This, was Alaina Scott and this, was her story.
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