Kill the Silence

by Monika Korra

  The water turned cooler, but I stayed where I was, letting the shower’s spray cool my fevered thoughts.

  My parents, Kristine, and I drove along in Kelly’s car, the only sound the beating of windshield wipers. I sat there staring straight ahead, focusing on my breathing. At one point, Sidsel’s car pulled alongside us at a stoplight. Silje waved and smiled at me, and I raised my hand to acknowledge her.

  Erin greeted us outside the Frank Crowley Courts Building. After all the introductions were completed, made awkward by the jousting of umbrellas, she escorted us to a waiting room. Just outside the door, she stopped me and asked to speak to me.

  “I just want you to be sure that you want your parents in the courtroom. I don’t want this to be more difficult for you than it has to be.”

  I thought about that for a long time. I wanted to honor my parents’ wishes and their efforts to support me. In some ways it would be good to have them there, but I also wanted to protect them, to keep them from having to hear the worst parts of what happened that night. I decided it was best to listen to Erin’s concern, and I explained to my mother and father that it would be best if they weren’t in the room during my testimony.

  “Just knowing that you’re here is enough,” I said.

  “We’ll do what you and the lawyers think is best,” my mother said.

  “We know you’ll be strong,” my father added.

  Both Kristine and I wanted to go in there as soon as possible to get it over with; we had had enough of waiting at this point. Several policemen were going to testify before we were called, and Erin told us that it could be a long time before it was our turn to speak. So we all settled into the waiting room. Kristine and I looked at the bright blue walls, the low tables and chairs, and the toys, games, and puzzles stacked on a bookcase.

  Kristine raised an eyebrow and smiled crookedly. “So, we’re in the kids’ section?”

  “It looks that way,” Silje said. Kristine and I were both glad to have her there for support.

  I picked up a can of Play-Doh, opened it, and smelled the familiar scent that immediately took me back to my own childhood.

  Even though we were anything but kids and were there to do anything but what you’d want a child to have to do, the setting relaxed me. We settled into full-sized seats. Through the open door we saw others who were waiting to testify in other trials, their expressions ranging from bored to angry. The three of us talked about anything but what we were about to face.

  As the hours ticked by, the atmosphere in the waiting room became more relaxed. We talked a lot of nonsense, and it almost felt like Silje, Kristine, and I were back home in our apartment on a normal day.

  At around 1 p.m., a bailiff came into the room, interrupting a silly conversation we were having about a celebrity news story. He looked right at me. We all fell silent. The plan had been for Kristine to testify first. My heart started racing. Had something gone wrong?

  “Ready?” Oh my God, that question was directed at me. My heart jumped again. I nodded; I really couldn’t say anything about if I was ready or not. I gave my mother, my father, and the girls a hug to take in their support before I followed the policeman down to court. In a few minutes I would see him again, the Worst One. My parents had agreed to stay in the waiting room and Kristine couldn’t come in before it was her turn to speak, but Silje came down with me. It felt so comforting to have her with me.

  We stopped at a passage that separated the court with doors that had glass windows. I could see him right away, only from behind, but that was enough.

  The thin hair, the short neck, the bad posture; my skin began to crawl. I could feel my legs shaking. I had thought that I was ready, but then I started shivering and my breathing became irregular. I knew that all this was a physiological response to the adrenaline I was producing, but still…

  I told myself that it was now or never; this was my opportunity to prevent him from getting the opportunity to do this to another innocent person. Okay, Monika, be strong, you can do this. Look at him, do what you have to do to make sure that he won’t get out of the hellhole that he has been spending his time in the last year. I was used to doing this, talking directly to myself, a habit I’d developed after the attack. I took three deep breaths all the way down to my stomach, just like I practiced in my yoga classes that felt so far away from this moment. I could hear the humming in my midriff when I exhaled, but that made me feel better.

  Okay, I was ready; ready to end this chapter of my life; ready to do what I could to get him locked up.

  The minutes grew longer when I stood there watching him through the window.

  “Jessica, let’s wait in this office for a while.”

  I had to bite my tongue and not correct him. I understood the need to protect my identity, but I hated the idea that I had to pretend to be someone else. I couldn’t be someone else. I am Monika Kørra, a normal girl who had a horrible thing done to her. Jessica was the name given to a victim; I was determined to step out of that role. I was never going to live my life as a victim, and each time I heard that name, I felt like someone was trying to label me and, worse, to box me in with a set of expectations. I had to agree to using that pseudonym in court, but mentally I never accepted the idea.

  “Why? What are we waiting for?” I followed the policeman into an office that was connected to the courtroom.

  “It will just be another minute. The court has to take care of some other business.”

  Another delay! Silje held my hand and looked at me in a way that told me that everything was going to be fine.

  I sat down in an office chair and didn’t know exactly what to do. There was a Post-it notebook on the desk in front of me. Normally I would never touch other people’s things, but I found a pencil and started to draw hearts in different sizes and shapes.

  The police officer came back and explained that there had been a mistake.

  “Kristine is on her way down. She is going to testify first. You may go back to the waiting room. It will take a while.”

  I felt like asking if he was kidding me, but fortunately the words got stuck in my mouth. I continued to draw hearts on the yellow papers.

  Kristine came down just minutes later. We were able to give each other a big hug, promising that nothing was going to break us as long as we stood together. She was taken into the courtroom. I watched as the door shut and saw a sliver of Kristine when she raised her right hand and swore to tell the truth and nothing but the truth. I felt a hand lightly touch my elbow. The bailiff shook his head. I’d also seen Silje in the courtroom and found a seat beside my two American mothers.

  It was so hard not to be able to be there with Kristine and support her. She chose to go through with this so that the man who had hurt me that night should get his punishment, and I wasn’t even allowed to support her. But I thought about how strong Kristine was and that the other members of my support team were with her, and I realized that she was going to be all right.

  She was just as determined as I was to get this man locked up, out of the society we live in. Now I just had to wait and send good thoughts and strength to Kristine. I continued drawing hearts, exchanging a few words with my mother and father about Anette’s expected arrival time, how the bad weather in Germany might affect her flight.

  My heart fell when I saw Kristine back in the waiting room. Tears streamed down her face, and she stood for a moment slump-shouldered and looking like she might collapse. I hugged her and I could feel her straightening up. When we separated, she wiped away her tears and began to smile.

  The court was adjourned for lunch, and we wanted to get out of that room, so we stepped into the hallway.

  Kelly came up to us, accompanied by Sidsel. “Kristine was awesome,” Kelly said. “She was so strong.”

  “It was so emotional,” Sidsel added. “I don’t see how anyone on the jury couldn’t have been moved.”

  Kristine and I exchanged a smile, and when Silje joined us, the three of us h
eld on to one another for a long while.

  With the adjournment, we had over an hour of waiting before it was time for me to get started. I didn’t feel like eating. The image of the back of that man’s head earlier had made me lose my appetite. Then I remembered that my mom had slid a box of snacks and a thermos of coffee into my bag. How could I not enjoy that sign of love and care?

  We’d all been instructed that we couldn’t discuss any details of what had gone on in the courtroom. A couple of people munched on snacks and sipped coffee and soft drinks. The hour passed slowly.

  They weren’t quite finished with Kristine’s testimony, so she had to go back in after the break. The police officer asked me to go with them downstairs and wait in the small office again.

  “This won’t take long, and you’re up next.”

  I hugged my parents, and they told me they were proud of me and loved me.

  The bailiff was true to his word. I only sat in the small office for a few minutes before I heard a tap on the door. As I stood up and walked through the door of the courtroom, I felt my pulse quickening again, just as it did when I approached the starting line to begin a race. I was ready to fight; ready to let justice win once and for all. I stared at the back of that man’s head as I entered the room. Now it was his turn to feel the fear of not being able to live a life in freedom. I had to take my eyes off him and walk over to the judge. Erin had shown me photos of the courtroom, including pictures of Judge Jennifer Balido, so that nothing would overwhelm me as new. The woman I saw sitting there seemed younger in person. Though her expression was neutral, her round cheeks and brown hair reminded me of many women from back home.

  “Do you swear that you will tell the truth and nothing but the truth?” I raised my right hand and gave my promise, thinking that the next time I was going to make a promise in public the situation should be completely different—I’d use my real name.

  Erin asked me to present myself to the jury. I had gone through this part carefully in my head time after time; to pretend to be someone else was not something I was used to. I managed to give my name as Jessica Watkins, even though it felt so wrong.

  Erin started her questioning. She was good; she was leading me through her examination in a safe way, so that we would look strong in our case. I tried to describe the evening with as many details as possible. Many people had told me that the defense was likely to challenge me on this point: How could I remember everything in such detail when so much time had passed? To remember has never been a problem; forgetting was difficult. I had never tried to get this episode out of my memory, because that was a fight that I didn’t believe I could win. But I had won the struggle to take control over my thoughts and feelings, and that is a victory that I can celebrate for the rest of my life. So I just had to think that the memories would help me do my best in the courtroom.

  At one point, Erin picked up the cell phone I had that evening, as evidence. She showed the messages and phone calls between my friend and me about what was going to happen that night. She proved how the time on the messages matched my description of the events, with unknown numbers there as well, calls that were made by others besides me.

  Again, I experienced the sensation of both being inside myself and watching myself. I had expected to be overwhelmed with emotions, even tears, at this point in the hearing. But I just didn’t feel like it, didn’t feel like I had more tears to give. I must have emptied myself in the months before.

  It felt safe to realize that the feelings were well processed: You can look him in the eyes now, you are strong enough! I summoned the courage to look him straight in the eyes—those eyes that I had feared would be the last thing that I was going to see in my life. I wanted him to see that I was a human being—a human being with dignity.

  What I saw back was a void. He seemed completely empty—totally dead. He looked in my direction, but really his eyes were somewhere else. It was like he saw straight through me, or was looking at something that just he could see. I had to give up; he was never going to realize that I was a human being.

  I continued to answer Erin’s questions. A picture of a girl who looked really sick was shown on a big screen to my right, straight in front of the jury.

  “Can you describe what you see in this picture?”

  I froze.

  My God, it was me.

  I didn’t know what to say; the girl in the picture looked completely gone, like she was living in another world, like him. Her eyes didn’t focus on anything; she just stared straight out into space. Her eyes were blank and intense at the same time. Duct tape was still glued on her hair. Her lips were the blue of cold, the blue of fear. She sat with her hands tightly knit, balled into fists beneath the blanket, pressed close to her chest. It had been hours since the attack; I was safe at the hospital, but I was still defensive, still in hyperprotective mode, still looking wary, like a wounded animal, feeling cornered and wanting to flee even though those around me only wanted to help and not harm.

  I took a couple of deep breaths before I could go on.

  “It’s me. In the hospital. After the worst night of my life.”

  Erin kept the picture on the screen during the entire trial. The eyes of the girl looking at the jury with an empty expression.

  I kept composed throughout Erin’s direct examination, and it seemed as if it was over in an instant. Among many things asked of me, I confirmed that he had been there that night, that he had been the Worst One. There was no doubt.

  Then it was time for what I had anticipated would be the most difficult part. One of the two lawyers representing Arturo stood up and looked my way. I had envisioned this moment for a long time. I stared back at him, giving him what I thought was my most hardened glare. I thought that I would make it as difficult as possible for him to defend a person who had raped this girl, a girl he now had to look straight in the eyes. I looked at the picture, then back at him.

  He smiled at me. I could read genuine kindness in his expression. I immediately sensed that he was one of us, he was not an enemy. I smiled back just to confirm that it was okay. He started by asking about the different tests that had been done to me at the hospital. Questions about how they had been done, how many tests had been done, and so on. I had to look at Erin when I heard her heave a sigh. She just rolled her eyes.

  I felt relieved that she was thinking the same thing I was. How could I know how many tests had been done from the upper arm and from the lower arm? “I don’t know” was my best answer. He then got into the actual incident and was trying to ascertain exactly who had done what. He sat down after just a few questions; the papers he was holding in his hand were shaking.

  I looked from him to the judge, wondering if he was all right. Erin had more time to continue questioning. I hoped that Mr. Mazek understood that I knew that he was only doing his job.

  Erin only had a few more questions for me; she looked happy with what she’d gotten. The judge said in my direction, “You may step down, but please remain in the court building.” I had to look at her twice to make sure that it was actually over, that I had done my part to get him out of society. I got up from the chair, said good-bye to the girl on the screen, straightened my back, and began to walk out of the courtroom with my eyes turned to the Worst One, cold as ice.

  I smiled at Erin and Brandon to thank them. They nodded confidently at me. No point in lingering. I then focused my eyes on the door. That was my way out; that was my exit; that was the way that would lead me to my family and my friends.

  As I walked along the corridor, I thought about how surreal this had been. I had thought about testifying for so long, and now, in seemingly an instant and a blur, it was over. I felt like I did at the end of a cross-country ski race with interval starts, when the competitors all start at different times. I’d crossed the finish line, but I wouldn’t know the final results until later, after others had done their job. I felt a mixture of relief, pride, and emptiness that my part of the race was over.

/>   When I got back to the waiting room, everyone rushed toward me, and we all embraced in a wonderful group hug, all of us talking over one another, all of us essentially saying that it was finally over for me, for all of us. After a few seconds, we all burst into laughter, a communal expression of all of our relief, a sentiment we could all express and understand despite our language differences.

  For more than a year, I’d been thinking about what I would have to say, what it would be like to face Arturo Arevalo again, and now those doubts and wonderings that at times crowded my head or lurked in the shadows at the back of my mind were gone. I felt free.

  Kelly and Sidsel, who’d been in the courtroom, came in.

  “The judge adjourned the proceedings. That’s it for the day,” Kelly said.

  Erin and Brandon had told me that they didn’t expect the trial to last more than three days. As much as I had hated all the delays, once I was called to testify and sat there in the courtroom, it was like someone had pressed the fast-forward button on my life. I wanted things to slow down a bit. I was grateful for that. Anette was scheduled to come in, and I wanted her to be there for the verdict. Despite the circumstances, I was grateful that the two parts of my life—Løten and Dallas—were joined. I’d never had my two families together before, and I wanted to savor every minute of that I could.

  Talk quickly turned from my testimony to plans for the evening and the next days. We all agreed that our being in the waiting room wouldn’t have any effect on the outcome of the trial. Why put ourselves through that? Why be in this place where none of us wanted to be?

  The next two days we all stayed at home. It was so nice to have Mom and Dad with me. We just enjoyed ourselves, went to Starbucks and sat outside in the sun, went out in the evening to see the beautiful Christmas lights, ate with my good friends, who quickly became their friends, went shopping like all the other crazy people just before Christmas.