by Lynn Moon
“Just like my grandparents. You killed off a living person.”
He nodded. “Had a fake birth certificate made for Rosetta. One that stated single birth, with Berty and Betty as the natural parents.”
“You faked Rosetta’s death and then faked her birth,” I sighed.
“Yes,” he said.
“In the kitchen, they called her Rosetta.”
“Berty kept the name your mother picked out,” he explained. “He and Betty raised her as their own. After a few years, something snapped inside Berty. Happened when you two reached puberty. For some reason, he couldn’t deal with the idea of either of you growing up. I believe it was because he was afraid you’d somehow run into each other. He demanded that one of us move to another state. When I refused, we argued. I refused to fight with him. When I turned to walk away, he stabbed me in the back.”
“Uncle Berty really was the one who killed you.”
My father nodded. “He’s dangerous. Very sick. You must save your sister, Musetta. Remember, she’s only known Betty as her mother and Berty as her father. This will be difficult for her to accept.”
“Did she know you?”
“Only as an uncle,” he said.
“How could you do that?”
“It wasn’t easy,” he replied.
“The portrait with me and her—why?”
“I wanted my girls together,” he whispered. “I never expected your mother to see that painting. I guess Berty moved it to the attic after I died. Maybe he wanted the truth exposed. I just don’t know.”
“Mom did see it.” New tears fell as I thought of my mother. All curled up into a tiny ball on the top of her bed, mourning for my father. “You leaving wasn’t easy for her.”
He nodded. “Wasn’t my choice. Just my time. Life is odd, Musetta. No way to predict how our life will play out. That is why it is so important to grasp every moment and make it your own.”
“Why would he rape me?”
He shook his head again. “I honestly do not know. Maybe it was his way of getting you to leave that house. I just do not know. Rape’s a form of control. Maybe it was a sick way to control you. Get even with me. Honestly, if I had any idea, I would have stopped it.”
I nodded. “I love you, Daddy.”
“I love you too, Musetta. More than you’ll ever know. But you listen to me, child. Find your sister. Explain everything to her. Don’t do it for me. But for her and your mother. Do you understand? Do you hear me? Musetta, do you hear me? Tell Mom I love her. Tell her—”
“Musetta? Do you hear me, sweetheart? . . . Musetta?”
“Daddy?” I whispered.
“No, baby, it’s Mommy.”
“Daddy? Where are you?”
“Musetta, it’s Mommy, sweetheart. Open your eyes, baby. Open your eyes.”
Pain shot through me as a bright light flooded my vision. Am I still in that strange room with my father?
“Mom?”
“That’s it, baby,” she said between sobs. “Come back to me, baby.”
Taking in a deep breath, I moaned as the pain ricochet again throughout my body.
“Don’t move,” she whispered. “You just got out of surgery. Lie still. Hunter and Charlie are fine. You saved them. Okay? You saved them. So just rest now. Just rest.”
Holding my mom’s hand, I wondered if being with my father had been only a dream. But seeing my sister, Rosetta, wasn’t a dream. That was real.
***
The next day, I was up and walking the halls of the hospital. Charlie came by to visit and walk with me a couple of times. It hurt to know that Hunter was in worse shape. Broken shoulder and a bruised kidney. That had to be painful. I only had surgery to stitch a cut in my stomach. It looked like I would get out of here before him. They wouldn’t let me see him just yet. I was hoping on tomorrow.
I couldn’t sleep. My mind kept returning to my encounter with my father. Knowing that my uncle was only one floor up, I decided to visit him. The sheriff’s deputy at his door gave me the oddest look when I walked past. I wasn’t surprised to find Betty sitting next to my sleeping uncle. Standing at the foot of the bed, I didn’t know if I should hate him or not. He looked just like my dad. It was odd, but this man was the closest thing I now had to my father. And if I were to ask my grandparents, they’d probably say that he was him.
I told Sheriff Jim about my dream and that my father said my uncle had killed him. When they searched my uncle’s house, they found a bloody shirt hidden in his attic. The blood matched that of my father. They also found a large hunting knife with my uncle’s fingerprints. Can’t wait until I read the newspapers on that story.
“I’m sorry about your father, Musetta.” Betty glanced up at me through tear-soaked eyes.
Not sure how I felt about her, I replied, “I guess your life is going to change now.”
She nodded.
“I’m worried about my sister,” I said. “She doesn’t know anything about this, does she?”
Betty shook her head.
“My stomach hurts. I’m going back to my room.”
“Musetta. I’m sorry he stabbed you,” Betty cried out. “I’m sorry he stole your sister. I’m sorry he killed your father. I’m sorry he stole your womanhood. I’m sorry about a lot of things, Musetta. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know any of this. Honest. I didn’t know. Perhaps one day I’ll be allowed to tell you what I did know.”
As she cried on my uncle’s chest, I felt a little pity for the woman. But only a little. Then I wondered how much of everything she did know.
The next morning, I felt slightly better. When I entered Hunter’s room, I wasn’t sure how to act. We kissed in that nasty basement. But does he remember doing that?
“There’s my beautiful girl,” he said as soon as I entered.
“Hi,” I said, standing next to his bed.
“Well?” He held out his good arm. “Do I get a hug?”
Smiling, I carefully hugged him. “Doesn’t your shoulder hurt?”
“Not with all the stuff they’re pumping into me,” he replied, laughing. “And?”
“And what?” I stared into his beautiful eyes. I may have only been twelve, but I did love him.
“I meant every word I said down there. Did you?”
I smiled and nodded.
“Then that settles it: You’re my girlfriend and I love you.”
“I love you too, Hunter.”
Leaning over, we kissed. When our lips met again, I exploded inside.
“I guess I saved you,” I whispered.
“And I guess I found your ghost.”
“How are you feeling?” his mom asked, walking in with a bag from a local store. “Musetta? How wonderful it is to see you. How are you doing, sweetheart?”
“I’m good. I was lucky this time. He didn’t hit any of my important stuff. I guess he wasn’t as lucky though. My mom said I punctured his liver and stomach.”
“Well, sometimes God has a way of fixing things, doesn’t he?” She leaned over and kissed Hunter’s forehead.
“Mom,” Hunter shouted out. “Musetta is my girlfriend.”
She nodded. “Good, I approve. Welcome to the family, Musetta.” As her arms surrounded me, I leaned into her. It felt good to be wanted and loved.
As the evening sun fell into a deep sleep, I read from a novel Auntie Roe had brought in earlier. Over the last couple of days, my life was once again filled with visits from my aunts, neighbors, and friends. There were so many vases of flowers, there was hardly any room left for me. The nurse had to wheel in an extra table just so they’d have some place to put them.
As I delved into the love I now felt for my father, a light rap echoed through my room. Opening my eyes, I wasn’t sure if I should smile or frown.
“Musetta?” a soft voice said from a very familiar face.
“Rosetta?”
NOTE TO PARENTS
Unfortunately, childhood sexual abuse hits families of all levels. The nam
e of this terrible act? Incest. Incest is a dark secret that many families refuse to acknowledge or confront. Sweeping such a problem under the rug may hide it for a little while, but the damage to the child and family may never be repaired.
Incest can happen between an older male relative and a younger female, such as what happens in my story. Pedophilia can even happen between children of the same age. Sexual abuse has also been reported by a close family friend, or a doctor, or dentist—the list, unfortunately, is endless. Doesn’t matter about the social ranking of that family or the racial background. In reality, all children are at risk at some point during their lives. If a predator can find the access, they will take it.
As in my story, children have no control over what happens to them. Musetta honestly believes it is her father who is committing the terrible act. And to protect her mom from community embarrassment, she keeps quiet. The secret relationship remains hidden and within the shadows.
In some cases, family members do not believe the child or that anything happened. Denial is not our friend. To make matters worse, a child’s accusation may be vague and lack evidentiary support.
According to the United States Center for Disease Control, sexual violence is a significant problem in the US. In 2014, about 7.3% of high school students reported being forced to having sexual relations. An estimated 20% to 25% of college women were victims of attempted or completed rape. The organization Darkness to Light states that 1 in 10 children will experience sexual abuse before their 18th birthday. The term stranger danger, in many ways, is only a myth. That is, if one believes the statistics. The majority of children are abused by someone in their family or close circle of friends.
As survivors, the children often blame themselves. Often there is no way to confirm the abuse. But that does not mean that we should ignore what children try to tell us. Naturally, we do not want to overreact—then again, we do not want to underreact.
Musetta is placed into counseling without having the chance to tell her whole story. She honestly feels that no one believes her, and that the problem is hers alone to deal with. Even her closest friends disregard the claim that her father’s ghost was attacking her. Musetta blames the abuse on her father’s hatred of her. Of course, none of her fears are valid. There is no ghost, and no hatred from her father; however, she is being abused. Not until she is attacked and her neck bruised does the local law enforcement become involved. Unfortunately, this is often the case.
If you have a suspicion that something is not right or that a child is being abused, do not sit by and do nothing. Please act. To help you decide on the correct action to take, please gather more information from one of these organizations below, or contact the local authorities. The list below is not all-inclusive—there are tons of websites out there to help.
A.I.R Project—www.abuseisreal.com
American SPCC —americanspcc.org
Darkness to Light —www.d2l.org
Kid Power —www.kidpower.org
National Sexual Violence Resource Center —www.nsvrc.org
Prevent Child Abuse—preventchildabuse.org
Stop It Now! —www.stopitnow.org
The Blue Ribbon Project —blueribbonproject.org
