Girl Seduced (The Girl Interrupted Trilogy Book #1) Page 9

  “Do you need us for something dear? What else do you need?” I had never, in eighteen years, asked to speak to my father alone and my mother looked befuddled, to say the least.

  I didn’t know how to ask mom to leave, but I looked at dad. He’s a very smart man and it didn’t take much for him to realize that I needed to talk to him alone and that it couldn’t be good.

  “Winnie, you go on – I’ll be right out.” He smiled, his politically correct smile that said, ‘you’re excused’ without being rude. Mom stood there for a moment and then said, “Oh… well, ok, um…I’ll see you in the morning dear, OK? I love you always…” and she blew me a kiss as the door closed behind her.

  “I love you, too, mom. Dad won’t be long.” She wandered out seeming a bit lost, but the door finally closed.

  Dad pulled up a chair and gave me the look. I knew the look too well because I had seen him give it to many others, but never to me.

  “Alright, Jasmine, what’s going on? What do you need to talk to me about that no one else can hear about? What kind of trouble are you in?”

  Chapter Nineteen

  I could never hide anything from my father. He was simply too charismatic. There was something about the way that he composed himself, the way he sat – his shoulders were always squarely facing his opposite – and those stern, dark eyes…those eyes could crack Jack the Ripper. Honestly, if he had been sitting in front of my father, my father could say two words and Jack the Ripper would have admitted every single offense he had ever committed and probably made up a couple just to satisfy my dad.

  I don’t know how the words found themselves to my mouth, but they started pouring out. I couldn’t stop. It was like a catharsis, and as I continued speaking, from the moment of my attack to this very moment, it was the first time I had ever seen my father actually in shock. For a moment, I was actually afraid, until he spoke.

  “Jasmine, do you realize what you’ve done? Do you realize how serious this is? What do you expect me to do about this? What in the hell got into you? What were you thinking? You honestly expect me to go to bat for you? A drug abusing ill-reputed young woman who has wasted eighteen years of your life for a cheap high and a bunch of guys who you didn’t even know? How are you ever going to tell your husband about this one day? Does Jonathan know about this?...” and he didn’t stop for another solid half hour.

  I had never heard him be so cruel. His words were slicing into my very soul, and every one of the were absolutely right and they were well deserved, but I couldn’t believe that he didn’t feel any sympathy at all for what had happened to me.

  “Dad, are you going to help me?” I was terrified that he was fixing to walk out and leave me on my own. I didn’t know what I would do.

  “Jasmine, that should be the least of your worries.” He stood up and took out his phone. “I don’t know who you are. I feel like my daughter died in that attack. She might as well have.” He walked out of the room already making calls, which meant that he was at least beginning the process of finding out what to do. But I couldn’t believe that he was so cruel. I think I just got disowned by my own father.

  About an hour later, he returned. He could see that my eyes were red from crying, but was completely disinterested. He simply started asking questions, as if her were talking to his plumber or a client who he had never met.

  “Jasmine, when you jumped out the window, the police obviously searched your room, thinking that someone had either pushed you out the window or had tried to break in. When they didn’t find any signs of forced entry or of anyone else even having been in the room, they did continue to search and found your drugs.” He stopped and took out his personal tape recorder.

  “I’m going to tape this conversation – it is protected because at this point, I am acting as your attorney, but I would advise you that the entire truth is not only necessary at this point, but I am giving you no other choice. I will walk out of this room if you refuse to tell me anything, young lady…do I make myself clear?”

  “Crystal.” I was making a dark pun, but he didn’t catch it and if he did, he was so angry, that he continued questioning me as if he didn’t.

  “Dad…” he didn’t look up. I started crying because I couldn’t it. I had never seen him this way. “ I love you and I’m so sorry…I didn’t mean…”

  “Jasmine, we need to stick to what is going on here.” He paused and took a breath. “You know I love you too and I am absolutely sickened every time I think about what happened to you last fall. That investigation is still ongoing and God only knows what we are going to find out from that.”

  “Am I going to get kicked out of school because of this?”

  “Jasmine, you’re going to be very lucky if you don’t go to jail for this.”

  “JAIL? But…I only…I mean, I’ve never even gotten a speeding ticket. Surely, there’s something…I mean you’re one of the best attorneys there is, dad. Jail?” I started breathing harder than I meant to and one of the nurses came in and asked if everything was OK.

  “Sweetie, your monitor went off at the station…do we need to take a rest from all of this for today?”

  “NO.” I had to find out what all was going to happen. “I mean, thank you, but no. I have to finish this.”

  The nurse hesitated. “Well, I am going to give you a mild sedative,” she looked at my father, “if that’s OK, Mr. Stanton, this doesn’t need to take much longer – the sedative may make her sleepy.” This was her way of saying that I would be asleep within the hour and that he needed to finish whatever he was doing. I know the nurse was trying to protect me, but at this point, I not only didn’t deserve to be protected, but needed to hear the cold, hard facts from my father.

  She inserted a catheter into my IV and injected a medication. I immediately felt relaxed and calm.

  “There – better?” She didn’t wait for a response and walked out. My father didn’t stop.

  “Well, I guess you must be feeling better.” A crack about drugs, I was sure.

  “Dad, I didn’t ask her to…”

  “Let’s just get finished here. I have a lot of work to do – I’m going to have to meet with this judge and see if I can pull some connections and find out also what’s going to happen and when. Can we get back to work please?” That was not a request for my permission, but a direct order. I didn’t answer.

  “As far as school, that’s the least of your worries right now. That’s going to be up to the dean of the college and the board of directors, at the very least. At this point, the best case you can expect will be court-order drug rehabilitation for at least 30-60 days; you’re very lucky we’re at Christmas break because you may be able to keep at least the credits for what you’ve earned during this semester. You have taken all of your finals, correct?” His glasses were sitting down low on his nose. He meant business.

  “Yessir.” He continued writing. “They will look at your first semester grades, your previous record, and with any grace or mercy, with a very convincing letter of apology and, perhaps an appearance in front of the board pleading forgiveness, they may allow you to attend another semester to monitor your behavior. Most colleges will not allow someone with a felony on their record to continue college, so hopefully, they will knock this to a misdemeanor and allow you to regain your credibility.”

  My head was spinning. From the sedative? From the word felony? I couldn’t tell. Probably both and the reality that I may never be a journalist. Barbara Walters might be interviewing me, but as a female in a state correctional facility angle…..

  “Jasmine – pay attention. I don’t have a lot of time.”

  “Sorry, dad. What did you say?”

  “I SAID that the police found roughly a gram and a half in your apartment…how have you been using this drug? Do you smoke it or inject it? They didn’t find any paraphernalia so that will work in your favor, if your medical records support what you say about your method of use…”

  Paraphernalia? Like what
? Did my father really envision in his head his only daughter with a needle in her arm or some sort of weird pipe or something sitting around high with a bunch of losers? Wait…I am now one of those losers…of course that’s what he was thinking.

  “No dad, I was sniffing it in my nose.” He continued writing.

  “Why was there so much in your apartment?”

  “So much? It was just a little bag…”

  “Jasmine, that little bag almost constitutes enough to exceed personal use, which would qualify you as a dealer as well. That would mean guaranteed jail time for at least five years.”

  Oh my God. This is really happening. This is really happening. This is really happening.

  “Dad, I just bought it from Kenny two days ago. I usually buy it from him once a week and I had just taken some the night before and the night of the accident. I had a really big final to do and I just needed the energy to get through it. No, I don’t sell drugs, dad.”

  “Kenny? Kenny who? What is his full name?”

  Here we go. Not only am I a drug user, but I’m fixing to be a snitch as well.

  “Dad, what happens if I don’t tell them his name? Can’t I just say that I didn’t know him?”

  “If you want to be a liar you could. Or, they could consider that you were making it yourself since they also found cold medicine in your bathroom, which contains the chemical pseudoephedrine in it, which is used to make meth…so your charge would be include manufacturing of the drug as well as using and probably distribution. If you choose that route, you might as well pack your bags right now. They have infirmaries in jail.”

  “God dad, is this for real? Are you just really mad at me?” My voice started to squeak and I could barely talk, but I really needed him to be straight with me. He had never lied before – why would he start now?

  “Jasmine, this is as real as anything in your life that has ever happened. This is so real that not only am I going to have to explain why I’m defending my drug addict daughter to the law firm and I may be let go, but your mother will probably end up in therapy. And, that’s even if you don’t do a day in jail. Yes, Jasmine this is real.”

  I had no choice. What I had done was now affecting everyone around me. They would probably go after Sabrina next and God only knows what all she had in her system. And with her sharing my dorm, she would be held accountable as well. Dad was reading my mind.

  “Is Sabrina in on this? Has she been using this too?”

  “No dad. She only told me the name of the guy who gets it for me. She doesn’t use it all.”

  “So?” He stared at me, waiting for his name. “Who is this pillar of society who you are protecting and who has made thousands of my dollars keeping you high?”

  “His name is Kenny. I don’t know his last name, but I could find out. Sabrina is the one who found him, so I could ask her.”

  “Oh, don’t worry. She’s going to be called in for questioning as well.”

  “Why? She didn’t do anything? I’m the one who did this, dad, why does she have to go to the police about this?”

  “Jasmine, she shares a room with you. There’s no way in hell that she didn’t know about it. And especially if she recommended your dealer, she’s an accomplice. She could face charges herself.”

  “Oh my God! Dad, for real, you can’t do anything about this?”

  “No, Jasmine, you already have.” Baseball bat right in the face. WHAM.

  “So, why did you have cold medicine in your apartment?”

  “Because I have a cold, dad.”

  “Fine – I need to get the doctors to run some tests on the lining of your nose, your stomach, and also verify any cold symptoms – that will all be in your favor. It will also work in your favor that you are cooperating. We will arrange for a private rehabilitation setting close to us that is private and…”

  “Dad – when will I have to go?”

  “Jasmine, we don’t know yet if the judge is going to allow you to go. Rehab is going to be like the Hotel Hilton if you get off that lucky. Not to mention the public service…I’m sure at least 1,000 hours of community service…”

  “I already volunteer at the nursing home – will that count?”

  “Jasmine, this is serious. I really don’t think you understand. No, helping out the elderly in an air-conditioned nursing home is not going to count.”

  “Probably, you will end up either cleaning public restrooms or perhaps picking up litter from the side of the road…and that brings up another issue. How do you plan to pay for your probation officer? I will need to be able to show proof that you will be able to pay your officer.”

  “Officer? Probation officer? Pay them for what? I mean, how much does that cost dad? I don’t have any money – I’m in college.” Doe-eyed and still completely naïve to the gravity of what was happening, my dad chimed in once again.

  “Great. That’s another several hundred dollars a month I’ll be shelling out for you because of this.” He took his glasses off and rubbed his forehead and then his eyes and then looked at me after putting his things down.

  “Jasmine, for god’s sake, what could you possibly have been thinking about doing something so dangerous? Did it never occur to you what would happened if you got caught? Were you thinking at all?”

  “Daddy…I don’t guess I was thinking.” I started crying again. “I know there isn’t anything to say to make this go away. But, after I got attacked last fall, I haven’t been the same in my mind, you know?” I really sat up as much as I could and started talking to him. “I can’t think about anything but that night, what could have happened, what did happen, how horrible and dirty I feel every minute…”

  “And, the only thing that just makes it go away, even if for a little while is the feeling I have when I’m taking this drug. I know you don’t want to hear that, but it’s the truth. I don’t know what I’m going to do without it.”

  He continued looking at me.

  “You can’t tell anyone this dad, because they will lock me up forever if they know this.” I couldn’t believe I was telling him this, but what else could be any worse?

  “I’ve been seeing things.” He sat back in his chair.

  “Do what?”

  “I’ve been hearing voices…seeing little black shadows that run back and forth…even when people are in the room with me…and when I sleep I have nightmares that are disgusting and horrible…and they never stop…”

  “Why haven’t you told your doctors any of this?”

  “Because they will put me in a psychiatric ward for sure, dad. I am already facing all of this. I don’t think I could face that too. Dad, you can’t mention any of this…I just didn’t know if you might know something about any of this?”

  “Yes, Jasmine, I know all about what methamphetamines can do to your brain.” He was being sarcastic. He stopped, and just talked.

  “More than likely, this is just part of the withdrawal. I’m sorry, but as your father, the tape recorder has been turned off. Your doctor is going to have to know about this – meth is a very serious drug and, if your brain has been burnt up and you’re seeing things and hearing voices, then we need to get you serious help.”

  “DAD – no! You can’t tell them…” But he had already pushed the nurse’s button.

  She came back in and looked at me. “You’re not asleep yet, sweetie?” She looked at my father with disdain, but he ignored her and said, “We need to see her doctor immediately.”

  “Mr. Stanton, we are already doing everything and she is making excellent progress…her doctor will be in see her during rounds this evening.”

  “I don’t think you understood me. I need to see him now or I’ll have him paged.”

  The nurse stood her ground and looked at me. She could see that I was getting visibly upset.

  “Sir, you’re upsetting your daughter! Please calm down and let her rest…”

  Dad walked past her and out into the hall. Within twenty minutes, my doctor was bac
k in my room with another gentleman who I had never met. They asked for my nurse to leave the room. Dad stood there with them.

  “Go ahead, Jasmine.”

  The doctor shot a look at dad, but empathetically looked at me. “Jasmine, you’re seeing things? What kind of things?”

  I looked at the other doctor and read his coat. ‘Dr. Simpton, Head of Psychiatry’. I knew it. I’m fixing to be locked away somewhere playing bingo for the rest of my life with people carrying on conversations with the air or picking bugs off of their skin that weren’t there.

  “Look this is really not necessary.” I looked at Dad. “I told my dad that I’ve been hearing voices, seeing some shadows, having really weird dreams…all symptoms of withdrawal, I’m sure.”

  No one said anything. Finally, Dr. Broughman spoke up.

  “Yes, Jasmine, they are probably withdrawal symptoms. But, they signify that there could be some possible, even minor, brain damage. We need to do a couple of other tests and would like to start you on one other medication to stop the hallucinations, OK? Wouldn’t you agree?”

  The psychiatrist never spoke but nodded. He asked my father if I had ever had any ‘episodes’ before. I answered for him.

  “NO! I’m not crazy- I took a very dangerous drug for several months.” They all quietly listened. “I know it was very stupid, and I don’t know what made me stop thinking about right and wrong, but it’s a little late now. But, yes, this drug has not only ruined my life but I am having withdrawal symptoms and one of them is that my mind is playing tricks on my – just a little.” I started feeling angry, and even a little aggressive at this point. GOD, like none of these people had ever done anything really stupid or made a mistake. I wished I could go digging in a few of their closets, even for an afternoon…

  Dr. Broughman asked what other symptoms had I not mentioned. “I am feeling an overall just ACHE, for lack of a better word, but I fell out of a three story window, so I would expect that to be par for the course.” Golf terminology – I was sure they would all understand that, the bunch of smug bastards.

  “Another withdrawal symptom – only usually it’s extreme pain. I can increase your pain medication to help with that a little – that would explain why you haven’t been sleeping very well.”