Diary of a Young Girl (Urban Books) by Mark Anthony

Author:Mark Anthony [Anthony, Mark]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
ISBN: 9781601623744
Amazon: 160162221X
Publisher: Urban Books
Published: 2012-12-04T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

No Love Like A Father’s Love

As soon as I was discharged from the hospital I had two uniformed police officers waiting to escort me and my father down to the police precinct to look at mug shots. His girlfriend followed behind us in my father’s car.

I was feeling horrible and with three of my top front teeth missing I looked like a hot mess. The only thing I wanted to do was see a dentist as soon as possible so I could replace my lost teeth.

On the way to the precinct as we sat in the back of the patrol car, I couldn’t believe that my father had actually put his arm around me, hugged me, kissed me on the cheek, stroked my hair, and told me that he loved me.

His signs of affection had shocked the hell out of me, but what was more shocking was that it really seemed genuine. It had taken a brutal rape for me to finally get that type of attention from him, but I was just glad to be getting it and it made me feel really good.

When we arrived at the precinct I was still wearing hospital-issued garb and slippers along with a thin jacket that my father’s girlfriend had let me borrow. My clothes had to be held as evidence and sent down to the police crime lab.

Anyway, at the precinct I was met by two different New York City detectives, both of whom were men. I was also met by a female prosecutor from the district attorney’s office as well as a male investigator from the district attorney’s office.

Along with my father and his girlfriend—who everyone took as my mom—we all went into a room. The new detectives, the investigator and the prosecutor all took turns asking me basically the same questions that the female detectives had asked me earlier when I was at the hospital.

I answered all of their questions and I made sure that I was consistent with what I had said earlier to the other detectives at the hospital. The only time that I appeared to get flustered was when they would press me on information about Tara. They couldn’t believe that I didn’t have a phone number for her or an address for her.

“I have her number programmed into my cordless phone at home. I just press one button and it dials her, so I never actually dial her number. That’s why I don’t know it off the top of my head,” I lied.

“But what about where she lives? A last name, maybe?” the detectives pressed me.

“She lives all the way in Queens and I live in Brooklyn. That’s too far to be traveling so usually what we do is we meet up at wherever we’re going out to. Like that night we met up at the movie theater on Forty-second Street in Times Square.”

Everyone in the room looked at each other without saying anything, then the prosecutor suggested that we look at some mug shots to see if I could see anyone who looked familiar.

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