Entry 01 - Bethany Michelle Krajick

_January 8, 1977, Milford, Ohio_


Doctor Francheska Vladimirovna 'Fran' Mercer sat in her office on a cold January Saturday, reviewing the notes she'd made as she'd spoken with Mrs. Nora Krajick. Bethany Michelle Krajick, her thirteen-year-old daughter, had been raped and impregnated, and then had an abortion. No formal police report had been filed because the young woman hadn't told anyone about the rape until she'd realized she was pregnant. By that time, there was no evidence that a rape had occurred, and the Krajicks had decided against a 'he said, she said' trial to spare Bethany the additional trauma.

Doctor Mercer leaned back, removed her wire-frame glasses, pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. Her practice in Milford, Ohio, a village on the eastern side of the Cincinnati area, hadn't developed along the lines she'd expected when she'd received her license to practice Psychology from the State of Ohio. She'd expected to do divorce and family counselling, and while she still did some of that, most of her time was now spent with teens, and most of those were girls who had been subjected to some abuse - physical, sexual, or mental. She'd developed something of a reputation as an expert in the area, and other psychologists referred patient to her regularly.

Straightening up in the leather chair, she put her glasses back on, and retrieved an intake form from her desk's lower-left-hand drawer. She filled in the basic information she knew - name, birth date, address, parents' names and wrote 'rape recovery/gross stress reaction' on the treatment line. The 'experts' didn't feel that rape was a cause for 'gross stress reaction', but Doctor Mercer felt that the kind of trauma rape victims suffered was, in many ways, comparable to 'battle fatigue' of soldiers returning from Vietnam.

Her patient, thirteen-year-old Bethany Krajick, arrived with her mother about five minutes before their scheduled 8:00am appointment. Doctor Mercer knew, from talking with Nora Krajick, that Bethany was a good student and a cheerleader, and that the perpetrator of the rape had been a member of the school football team. Bethany's best friend was another cheerleader, named Kathy, with whom Doctor Mercer hoped to be able to speak.

Bethany was a pretty brunette, with her wavy hair styled such that it framed her face. She wore just the tiniest bit of makeup - just eyeshadow - and looked to be fit and trim. What was missing was the typical bubbly, energetic nature of a cheerleader; instead, Bethany seemed depressed and reserved, at least at first glance.

"Come in," Doctor Mercer said, standing up.

"Hi, Doctor Mercer," Nora said. "This is Bethany."

"Hi, Bethany," Doctor Mercer said warmly.

"Hi," came the very timid reply.

"If it's OK with you, we'll have your mom wait just outside the office on those couches. That way you and I can talk and get to know each other."

"I guess."

Doctor Mercer nodded to Nora, who left the office, closing the door behind her.

"Have a seat on the couch, please."

Bethany moved to the couch and sat down, and Doctor Mercer sat in a wingback chair just to the side.

"Do you know why you're here?" Doctor Mercer asked.

"Because I was raped and Mom is worried about me."

"OK. Why don't you tell me a bit about yourself? You can say anything you like, but I would like to know about where you were born, where you went to school, and about your friends and family."

It was an open-ended question, but Doctor Mercer preferred those, at least at first, to try to get a new patient talking.

"I was born April 12, 1963 at The Christ Hospital. Mom and Dad lived in Price Hill then, but we moved to Milford when my brother Ed was born three years later. I've gone to Milford schools my whole life - first Pleasant Hill Elementary, then Milford Main, and now Milford Junior High."

"What do your mom and dad do?"

"Dad is a CPA and Mom is a real estate attorney."

"And your brother? What grade is he in?"

"Fifth."

"What do you like to do in your free time?"

"Read, listen to music, and hang out with my friend Kathy."

"Is she also a cheerleader?"

"Yes. We both joined in seventh grade."

"Do you like being a cheerleader?"

"A lot. It's fun, we get to go to all the football and basketball games, and visit lot of different schools."

"Do you like school?"

"I do, especially math."

"Have you thought about college?"

"Only a little. I might want to be a CPA, like my dad. He gets to travel and do math all the time. But I'm not sure."

"Well, you're only in eighth grade, so you have lots of time to think about it. Do you have any pets?"

"No, but some day I want a parakeet!"

"A parakeet?"

"My friend Kathy and I talked in seventh grade about the perfect future – a house with a white picket fence, a husband, kids, and pets. I want a parakeet."

"Why?"

"I don't know, I just do."

"That's OK. Do you go to church?"

"No. We did when I was little, but we stopped going. I'm not sure why."

"Which church, if you know?"

"First Methodist in Milford."

"How old were you when you stopped going?"

"Around six, I guess. You'd have to ask my mom."

"That's close enough. Before you became a cheerleader, did you play any sports?"

"Softball, in sixth grade. I also bowl, if that counts."

"Do you like bowling?"

"Sure. I do OK, but I'm not great."

"Do you keep a diary?"

"Yes, but not regularly."

"Did you write about what happened to you?"

"No."

"Can we talk about that night?"

"Mom said I have to."

"Well, I think you should, but you don't have to. We can talk about other things if you aren't ready."

"No, it's OK," Bethany said with a hitch in her voice.

"Let's just talk about that day, from when you got up in the morning. Just tell me everything you can remember."

"My alarm went off at 8:00am, which is normal for a Saturday. I got out of bed, straightened the sheets and pulled the bedspread up."

"What day was that?"

"September 4th. It was Labor Day weekend."

"OK. What do you wear to bed?"

"A nightgown. It was my summer one, it's really light and soft and comes down to my knees."

"Do you wear anything else?"

"Panties, but no bra. I wear panties because my period is kind of irregular and I put pads in them."

"That's normal at thirteen. When did you have your first period."

"On my thirteenth birthday, exactly."

"By irregular, what do you mean?"

"It could be three weeks or five weeks. Sometimes light, sometimes heavy."

"OK. Go on."

"I went to the bathroom, took a shower, then got dressed."

"What did you put on?"

"Jeans and a t-shirt. Well, my underwear, too, plus socks."

"Then what?"

"I had breakfast with my family."

"Do you remember what you had to eat?"

"Waffles and bacon."

"Do you drink coffee?"

"Gross! No!"

Doctor Mercer laughed softly, "I prefer tea myself. Do you drink soft drinks?"

"Sure."

"What's your favorite?"

"Dr. Pepper."

"What did you do after breakfast?"

"It was my turn to do the dishes, so I helped Mom, then I rode my bike to Kathy's house."

"Your cheerleader friend?"

"Yes."

"And what did you do with her?"

"Just hung out, talked, and listened to music."

"Records or the radio?"

"Records."

"Do you remember which ones?"

"Only one for sure - a new album she had by REO Speedwagon."

"What did you talk about?"

"School, cheerleading, football, boys, and the party we were going to that night."

"What about boys?"

"Just which ones we liked and which ones were total speds."

"Were you allowed to date?"

"Not really. I could go to school dances, football or basketball games, or to school parties, but not on a real date. Dad says I have to be fifteen."

"Do you want to date?"

"I did; I'm not sure now."

"How long were you at your friend's house?"

"Until about 3:00pm. I rode home so I could have dinner and get ready for the party."

"Did you eat lunch?"

"Yes, at Kathy's house."

"Do you remember what you had to eat?"

"PB&J sandwiches, chips, and lemonade."

"Did you bike straight home?"

"Yes."

"And when you got home?"

"I took a shower and put on clean clothes - a knee-length skirt and a nice blouse, and clean underwear, too."

"May I ask what kind of underwear?"

"Just plain white cotton. Mom doesn't think I should wear anything else, not even colors."

"What color was your blouse?"

"Blue, the same as my skirt. It's my favorite color."

"Do you remember what you had for dinner?"

"Spaghetti with meat sauce. Our usual Saturday dinner."

"Usual?"

"Ed and I both love it, so Mom makes it every Saturday."

"OK. Then what did you do?"

"Brushed my teeth, fixed my hair, and put on makeup."

"What makeup?"

"Eye shadow and nail polish."

"Blue?"

"Yes!"

"What about lipstick?"

Bethany shook her head, "I'm not allowed; I use cherry lip gloss."

"What time was that?"

"About 6:30pm. Kathy's mom picked me up about ten minutes before 7:00pm and drove us to the party."

"Where was that?"

"At a football player's house on Vera Cruz Pike."

"What as his name? The football player?"

"Gary Hardoffer. He's JV."

"How many kids were there?"

"About thirty, I think."

"Was everyone in eighth or ninth grade?"

"No, there were some Sophomores there, too. It was mostly football players, cheerleaders, and a few girlfriends of football players."

"What was going on when you arrived?"

"Music was playing and some kids were dancing."

"Was there alcohol there?"

"And pot, but I didn't smoke and I only had a half a cup of beer."

"Do you like beer?"

"Not really, but I didn't want people to think I was a baby. I just sipped a bit so people saw me with a cup."

"Was that normal for parties?"

"Not in seventh grade, but in eighth grade. I think the Sophomores brought the pot and somebody got their big brother to buy beer."

"Were there any parents home?"

"Yes, but they never came to the basement where the party was."

"Who did you dance with?"

"Pretty much all the guys. That was normal, really."

"So you danced. What else?"

"Well, some of the kids had to leave at 9:30pm, but I was allowed to stay later, until 11:00pm because it was a Saturday and I was with the cheerleaders. There were about twelve people left and one of the guys suggested we play 'Spin the Bottle'."

"Had you played it before?"

"Twice."

"Was your first kiss playing 'Spin the Bottle'?"

"Yes. Those were the only kisses I had."

"Did you like playing?"

"Yes."

"Did anything happen except kissing during the game?"

"No. Some of the guys wanted more, but the girls always said 'no'."

"What happened during the game?"

"The usual stuff - I kissed most of the guys, and so did the other girls."

"Kathy?"

"Yes. She really liked playing."

"And you?"

"I did."

"Was there anyone you didn't want to kiss there?"

"Not really."

"Did you like any of the guys?"

"Yes," Bethany said quietly.

"The boy who later attacked you?"

"Yes," Bethany whispered with a tear dripping down her face.

Doctor Mercer took a box of tissues from the table next to her and handed it to Bethany who dabbed her eyes and blew her nose.

"Can you tell me his name?"

"Josh Benton."

"A football player?"

"Yes."

"Do you know what position he plays?"

"Safety."

"What happened then?"

"Well, after we played for maybe twenty minutes, he offered to drive me home. I knew he lived in my direction, and Kathy lived in the opposite. I told her I wouldn't need a ride and went with Josh."

Bethany blew her nose again, and then wiped her tears away with a fresh tissue.

"Are you OK to keep going?"

"I think so."

"What happened next?"

"When we came to my subdivision, he turned right onto Klondyke instead of left. I knew he was heading for a parking spot."

"Did you say anything?"

"No, because I liked kissing him and wanted to kiss him more. But I didn't want..."

Bethany started sobbing and took several minutes to compose herself. Doctor Mercer made notes in her notebook and waited.

"Can you tell me what happened next?"

"We parked and started kissing. He put his hand on my boob."

"Over your blouse?"

"Yes."

"Did you tell him to stop or try to move his hand?"

"No, because I liked it."

"Was the radio on?"

"Yes."

"Do you remember what was playing?"

"_Don't Go Breaking My Heart_."

"Go on."

Bethany took a deep breath and let it out, then dabbed her tears.

"He started pulling up my blouse. I told him to stop, but he pushed his hand up inside it."

"What did you say to him?"

"I said 'Stop!' and 'No!'," but he didn't listen. Then I felt the seat recline and he moved on top of me."

"What did you do?"

"I screamed 'No!' and 'Stop!' but he didn't listen. I felt his hands under my skirt and I tried to push him off but he was too heavy. He started pulling down my panties and I started crying and screaming 'No!' over and over, but he didn't listen."

She stopped talking, her body heaving, wracked by tears. Doctor Mercer patiently waited until Bethany calmed down enough to continue.

"I felt him against me and then suddenly it hurt bad and he started...doing it. I cried and screamed but he didn't stop. I kept trying to push him away, but he was too heavy. When he, uhm, finished, he got off me, zipped up his pants and started the car. I pulled up my underwear and just stared out the window while he drove me home."

"How did you feel?"

"Like I wasn't in my own body. I kept thinking that if he'd just been nice and asked, I probably would have done it with him. But he forced me."

"You were ready to have sex?"

"I liked him, and liked kissing him, until..."

Bethany sobbed more and once again Doctor Mercer waited for her to be able to continue.

"What happened when you got home?"

"I got out of the car and ran to the door, used my key, and went inside. I called 'hello' to my parents, then went upstairs and took a shower."

"How long did you stay in the shower?"

"Probably twenty-five minutes. But I liked long showers so nobody thought it was strange. I washed myself three times, but I still felt dirty. When I got out of the shower, I saw blood on the pad in my panties, but I knew it wasn't time for my period so I knew he'd, uhm, broken my cherry. I wrapped the pad in one of those little envelopes and put it in the trash."

"And your clothes?"

"I put them in the clothes hamper. I washed them the next morning."

"You didn't say anything to anyone?"

"No. I was so embarrassed!"

"You just pretended nothing had happened?"

"That's right. Well, until I missed my period. I thought it was just late, but then it was six weeks and I was really worried. When it didn't come the next week, I told my mom what happened."

"And she called the police?"

"No, I had the abortion before she called them. She didn't want to tell my dad at first, but then she decided she had to. So they called the police and I gave a statement. I'd destroyed all the evidence, so both the police and an attorney my dad talked to advised not to press charges because it would hurt me even more."

"How did you feel about the abortion?"

"I don't know, really. But there was no way I could have a baby."

"How are your grades?"

"Mostly B's and C's. I got mostly A's last year."

"Because you have trouble concentrating and studying?"

"Yes, how did you know?"

"That's normal. I can help you with those things, if you'll let me."

"Mom said I have to come here."

"I know, but this will only work if you want my help. Do you?"

"I don't know; I guess."

"Are you still friends with Kathy?"

"Yes."

"And how do you feel about boys?"

"Scared. I never was before."

"That's normal, too. Are you scared of being around them? Or just what might happen if you're alone?"

"Both. I don't talk to any of them at all. Mostly I just talk to Kathy."

"OK. Will you let me help you?"

"I guess so, yes."

"Good. I'll arrange with your mom to see you once or twice a week. Mostly you and I will just talk, and we'll figure out how to improve your concentration and study habits. Are you sleeping OK?"

"Mostly. I sometimes wake up from a nightmare."

"About him?"

"I can never see his face in the dream, but I'm sure it's him."

"Let me give you my card. It has my office phone number on it. If I'm not here, and my receptionist isn't here, it will go to my answering service. They can reach me no matter what time it is. If you need to talk to me, or feel depressed, or think about doing anything bad, I want you to call me right away. Promise?"

"You mean wanting to kill myself?"

"Have you thought about that?"

"When I first realized I was pregnant, but not now."

"You're sure? Not at all?"

"I'm sure."

"Promise you'll call me?"

"I promise."

"Good. Let's go see your mom."

Doctor Mercer and Bethany walked out to the reception area and Doctor Mercer asked Nora to call her on Monday morning. Once Bethany and her mother had left, Doctor Mercer went back to her desk and wrote out her basic analysis, completed the intake form, and labeled a new file folder with Bethany's name. She put the form into the folder, then locked the notebook in the credenza behind her desk and picked up the phone to call her mentor, Doctor Laura Paulus, in Dayton.

"Hi, Fran. How did it go?"

"Hi, Laura. Better than I hoped. She really opened up to me and was able to walk me through the events."

"She's thirteen, right?"

"Yes. She'll be fourteen in April."

"She must be made of pretty strong stuff. What's your initial analysis?"

"She has the symptoms of 'gross stress reaction' as we discussed - trouble concentrating and studying, occasional trouble sleeping, poor grades compared to before, and fear of the opposite sex."

"What's your proposed treatment?"

"Counseling. I don't think I need to refer her for medication. We'll work on helping her focus on school work and take it from there."

"Are her parents supportive?"

"They are. They're pretty strong as well. I suggested they come in for a couples session and they agreed. Eventually we'll do a family session. The only question is her little brother."

"Does he know?"

"Not that I'm aware of. I'm thinking of not including him."

"That's probably a good choice, at least for now. You have to leave it to the parents to decide, though."

"Of course. There was one strange thing she said, and once she's in a better frame of mind, I want to explore it."

"What's that?"

"That she would have agreed to have sex with the boy if he'd just asked."

"A hyper-sexualized thirteen-year-old? Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"I am, but she told me she bled from having her hymen ruptured during the rape."

"Not all abuse is penetrative, Fran. It's not normal for a thirteen-year-old to contemplate having sex and admit she was willing and ready. It happens, but it's rare. If she were fifteen, I wouldn't even blink."

"I know."

"The brother is younger?"

"By three years; he's only ten."

"That's not a likely source, but again, anything is possible. Have you talked to the dad?"

"Briefly."

"Just keep your eyes out. And remember - uncle, teacher, neighbor, and while even more rare, it could be a female."

"You had a case like that, didn't you?"

"About four years ago - a pre-teen girl being abused by a female college-age neighbor. It took me forever to get Family Services involved because they just flat-out didn't believe it."

"Are you free for lunch next week?"

"Thursday is good. Shall we meet in Kings Mills at the usual place?"

"See you at noon."

They said 'goodbye' and hung up. Doctor Mercer checked her schedule and pulled out her notes to review for her next patient. After she finished with that patient, a victim of incest at the hands of an uncle, she locked up the office and got into her Chevy to drive home. She lived just five minutes from the office, about a mile from Route 28 on McClelland Road.

"Hi, Mom!" her eldest daughter, who was ten, called out when she walked into the house.

"Hi, Sarah! What are you doing today?"

"Not much, really; my dealer was out of coke, so it's been boring."

"I never should have let you read that paper. I'm curious, do you actually know who to buy drugs from at Country Day School?"

Doctor Mercer sent her kids to private school in Indian Hill because she didn't want them mixing with her patients who were mostly from the Milford area. That would have caused all sorts of potential conflicts and potential 'dual relationships' that it wasn't worth the risk to have them in the local public school. Her husband, an aerospace engineer who worked for General Electric, made more than enough money to cover the tuition.

"No, but I know kids who would know."

"Wonderful. So much for your tuition."

"We're supposed to learn about new stuff, right? You always say that!"

"Not THAT kind of new stuff, young lady! Where's your dad?"

"In the garage tinkering with his Firebird, what else?"

"And Abigail?"

"Doing whatever it is six-year-olds do when there's a foot of snow and they're too much of a Jewish Princess to go outside!"

"We don't even go to synagogue!"

"Yeah, but you know Grandma!"

"Why are you immune?"

"Grandma's funny, but I can't take her too seriously with that Russian accent and ranting about the Communists."

"She has good reason, you know."

"I suppose. Abby is in her room."

"Thanks."

Doctor Mercer went to the garage and kissed her husband Sam, then went to change into comfortable clothes for an afternoon at home.