As the night came to an end, we reflected upon the call earlier. Things just did not seem right. The cues often unseen by the inexperienced become redundant to the experienced. It was the praying at an almost inappropriate time. To be on bent knee and clenched hands in the chaos of the situation. That every action be either right or wrong with God. Questions met with discomfort and darting eyes. Unable to speak for themselves, having lived a life of scripted responses. The darting eyes seemed to look for the scripter. The darting eyes filled with genuine fear, as if a single slip might meet extreme consequences.
It was the rigid answers. The authority presence met with such militaristic replies. The rebellious having toed the line with merely a stern voice. The anger yet fear in every word and action. The obsession with making it all end, no matter the cost, yet the fear of what free thought might mean. The intimately shared spaces despite the adequacy for privacy.
One of my partners looked at me “He told me he would want to kill him too if I grew up like him. He said their father tied him to walls, whipped him, beat him, and controlled his every action.”
As I went to complete my report, I noticed she had been a victim, and their father a suspect. A father accused of the most heinous of crimes. For a father to have violated the privacy and sanctity of his child’s body for his own sexual pleasure. There it was. The affirmation I never wanted. The desire to wish my finely honed skills had been wrong, only to have yet another unfortunately tragic affirmation.
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This first appeared in The Havok Journal on August 31, 2024.
Jake Smith is a law enforcement officer and former Army Ranger with four deployments to Afghanistan.
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