Journal of Rose Ingrid Castle

JOURNAL OF ROSE INGRID CASTLE

It wasn’t easy leaving Owen. But if there was even a chance that Fern was in danger, it was worth it. It sounds dramatic, I realize that. Just because she’d met a guy didn’t mean she was in danger. But the statistics in this area are grim. Ninety percent of all people with intellectual disabilities will be sexually assaulted in their life. Ninety percent!!! Call me overprotective, but I’m going to make damn sure that my sister is going to be among the ten percent.

I have to admit, it’s helpful, journaling all of this. And my therapist is right, the subconscious has a funny way of connecting things. Joy connects to fear. Good connects to bad. And so, on a day when I’m feeling good about my decision to come home, guess who I find myself thinking about?

Gary.

Gary was Mum’s boyfriend when we were eleven. Mum’s first boyfriend, or at least the first we knew about, after Dad left. Gary was a welcome addition to our lives at first. A novelty, you might say. He was a PE teacher. He wore shorts and trainers every single day, even on the weekends. I remember wondering if he even owned other clothes. The best thing about Gary was that when he was around, Mum was nicer.

Gary was affectionate—which was also a novelty. He used to give us bear hugs and shoulder rubs. It was strange, being touched in this way by an adult. Sometimes I liked it, but most of the time it confused me. One time, as we all sat in front of the television, he picked up my legs and began to massage them. I wanted to ask him to stop, but Mum was there and she didn’t say anything, so I didn’t either. He tried it with Fern next, but she told him to stop. Fern could always get away with those things better than I could.

One day, Gary took us swimming while Mum was getting her hair done. Fern and I were excited. I don’t know if it was the swimming or just the idea of doing something so normal that intoxicated me. Fern loved the water. When we arrived at the local council pool, she dived into the open section away from the lanes and paddled away immediately. I wasn’t as good a swimmer as Fern, and I got into the pool slowly and stayed close to the shallow end. Gary sat on the side the whole time, watching. When I ventured toward the deep end, he called me back.

“I promised your mum I wouldn’t let you drown,” he said, sliding off the edge and into the pool. I still remember his arms circling my waist under the water and pulling me against him. I remember his bare thighs pressing against mine. And I remember the distinct feeling that something wasn’t right about it.

“Relax,” he whispered. “Just relax.”

It was the strangest thing. There were people everywhere, all around us. And yet I was entirely alone.