Indigo (45 page)

Fuck. Yeah. Baby.

Her eyes lift to survey the room, and then she begins to speak.

My name is Indigo Olsen.

When I was 15 years old, Richard and Joan Huff kidnapped me, stealing me from my bedroom in the dead of night.

Her eyes look upon Joan with such disdain, and I’m shocked to see the formerly lifeless Joan, mirroring the emotion with her own steely gaze. But Indigo doesn’t flinch…

I was woken up around 3am by the vision of a man climbing through my bedroom window. Looking back now, I wish I had screamed out, alerted my mother to his presence, but I froze, unable to speak, voiceless. Then, any thought of speech was made impossible when he clamped his hands over my mouth, and dragged me through the window out to the car. A rag doused in chemicals was shoved against my face, and I passed out.

When I woke, that was when I first met Joan Huff.

My first thought was elation. A woman. Someone who could save me, reason with this stranger to let me go. But I soon realized that she was not to be my savior. She was perhaps even more ruthless than her husband.

Joan grabbed me out of what I realized quickly was the trunk of a car by my hair, calling me names, and making fun of me because I went to the bathroom on myself. We were at a house in upstate CT, at the time, of course, I had no idea where I was, and when I tried to ask after my duct-taped was removed, Joan slapped me repeatedly across the face. Crying made no difference; neither did begging for my life. At the time, I was certain I was going to die. Almost immediately after being brought inside, my face was held down against a porcelain sink, and my hair was dyed blonde. It was a painful process, and the bleach burns left behind during this incident, can still be seen today.

It was done in such a rush, and so haphazardly, that they had to use two cartons of bleach to finally get the color they were after. During this process, they were fighting back and forth about what to do with me. Yelling, screaming in my ear, adding to the physical abuse I was already suffering.

After that, I was stripped naked and tied to a metal pole in the basement and was raped immediately by Richard, while Joan watched, staring at me with the same look of pure evil. Neither she nor Richard had any sympathy that this was my first sexual encounter, and that, added to the kidnapping, put me in a state of near hysteria. I couldn’t catch my breath, and I think at that point, I passed out.

When I awoke again, I was being raped, and this sexual abuse, three or four times a day, every day, went on for about three months.  I started to lose hope that I would ever be found, or rescued. Calling out for help was no use, and I was kept starving, and dehydrated, so I wouldn’t have any energy, even if I wanted to. Joan would tell me repeatedly if I ever tried to escape, she would kill me.

Richard was never supposed to be alone with me without Joan there. That was her rule. But he would come to me when she was asleep, and tell me how beautiful I was, and how he wanted to leave Joan to be with me. This is was in complete contrast to when Joan was around, when he would physically abuse me to appease her, only to apologize for it later.

I started to realize that Joan was the one in control. And that he too, was afraid of her.

When a neighbor came over, and started to make inquiries about noises heard in the basement, they knew they had to move me. Joan insisted they just kill me and bury me in the yard, but Richard protested fiercely, saying they couldn’t kill me near their property, they had to do it far away, somewhere where it couldn’t be tied back to them.

That’s when the decision was made to move me to the car. At this point, I had completely stopped protesting the rapes, stopped trying to fight back, and just became numb. I know that is the only reason they didn’t put me in the trunk, but in the backseat instead. Being back outside gave me new life, however. I didn’t have a lot of strength, but I was reinvigorated, and I began focusing on a plan of escape. On the first night, when we stopped at a liquor store somewhere in New York, I made my first and only attempt.

Richard went inside, and Joan got out and stood watch by the car, smoking a cigarette. I waited for my opportunity, and when a car pulled in a few spaces down, I screamed out like I had never screamed before. I flailed around, hitting the windows, trying to make eye contact. But since I hadn’t spoken for weeks, my voice didn’t work right, and it wasn’t loud enough. I felt like I was in a dream, when you’re trying to reach for something but just can’t get it.

The man didn’t hear me, but Joan did. She threw open the car down and began to strangle me. As I was passing out, I was sure I was dying. I thought of my mom in that moment, hoping that someone would find my body to let her know what had happened to me.

But when I came to seconds later, Joan was hovered above me, her hand pressing against my forehead to hold my head down. That’s when the pain registered. It felt like someone was dragging a dagger into my cheekbones, skinning the flesh from my face. The car key she was using wasn’t sharp, so she kept digging in farther, trying to get deeper. I tried to struggle, but I was already weak from passing out. Once again, I was sure I would die.

You’re so ugly, she told me repeatedly. He’ll hate your ugly face now, she said.

I passed out again, and when I woke up, they were fighting in the front seat and we were speeding down the freeway. I lay there, the taste of blood on my lips and in my nose and tried to catch my breath. When they realized I was awake, Joan wasted no time showing me what she had done to my face.

This is your fault, they both told me. This is what happens when you try to escape.

The shock of seeing my ravaged skin to this day, has not worn of. I curled in on myself, ashamed, defeated, knowing that my life could never be the same again.

I gave up at that point. I couldn’t find the strength to try and escape again, and they didn’t give me much opportunity anyway. Their plan to murder me kept getting pushed back and pushed back, as no place we went to seemed right.

I believe now it was because they were both cowards.

We traveled the country. I saw deserts of Texas, the swamps of Louisiana, and the mountains of Washington. They were deluded, calling it a road trip, and telling me how lucky I was to be touring the country. They even bought me things like slushies once and a while, like they were getting used to having me around. I was dead inside, though, I didn’t see any of it.

She pauses then, taking a deep breath, and I feel my watery eyes finally let go of the first tear I’ve cried in years. Even though I knew the details, and what she was going to say, the power of hearing her recite it so bravely, feels like a punch to the gut.

All of you know the story of how I was recused. To the brave woman who recognized me and risked her own life on the off chance I was the missing girl everyone was looking for, I am forever grateful. I’d like to say now that I would love to hear from you, and that I owe you so much gratitude, that up until now, I wasn’t able to give you. You are my savior and you took me out of a situation in which I couldn’t help myself.

Her eyes find Joan then, and she visibly straightens up.

It took a long time for me to find my voice again. To not be afraid, and to talk about what happened to me. I was rescued, but a big part of me was left behind in ruin. I am still learning how to accept it, and I have a long road ahead of me to come to terms with the fact that yes, everything may have changed that day, but I am the only one in control of my life now.

I have regret that I have not spoken out sooner and maybe put this woman away for the longer sentence that she deserves.

I am here to tell the court that Joan Huff deserves to serve her full sentence. She took everything away from me, and is as guilty as Richard, who was sentenced to decades in prison. She isn’t a person capable of empathy for another human being, and is capable of such evil and violence, I would fear for anyone who she perceives as a threat.

I was a threat to her, and I have the scar to prove it.

Thank you.

Silence reigns in the courtroom, even from the media teams in the back of the room. Indigo walks out from behind the podium, and stops right before the gate. She turns to look at Joan, her scar fully visible, and stares at her for a few seconds. Joan’s eyes narrow, and before anyone can stop her, jumps out of her seat and flies in Indigo’s direction.

“He won’t miss next you next time you little bitch!”

The room goes crazy. I leap over the gate to shield Indigo from the attack, my heart in my throat. Joan has already been subdued, however, and I throw my arms around Indigo to pull her into my embrace. She pushes her face into my chest as we race out of the room, amidst camera flashes and reporters shouting out questions and trying to block our exit.

The judge’s gavel is slamming down on the table, trying to restore peace to the chaotic room. Frank DeBlaney appears out of nowhere and opens the door for us, and once outside, leads us into a small office down the hall.

“I’ll be right back,” he tells us, his face angry, before he shuts the door again, leaving us in stark silence compared to the upheaval we just left.

“Jesus Indigo. Are you okay?” I ask her, the fury running through my veins making my voice come out harsh. “Did she touch you?”

She vigorously shakes her head and enfolds herself in my arms. “No, I’m okay. She didn’t reach me.”

“Don’t let that witch scare you,” I tell her, kissing her forehead over and over. “They’re empty threats, and if she had anything to do with the cupcakes, then we’ll get her on that to.”

Indigo pulls back from me to run a hand across her scar. “She wasn’t talking about the cupcakes.”

“What do you mean?”

She closes her eyes. “She’s talking about the day I was rescued, when Richard tried to shoot me. I just know she’s talking about that.”

Fear lances through my body like a sharp spear, but somehow I manage to maintain my composure. I reach down and lift up Indigo so her legs are straddling my waist. “Whatever she was talking about, no one is going to get to you. If they try, they’ll have to get through me. I want you to understand that, and trust that.”

She nods and looks back at me with full trust shining in her eyes. “I know. You’ll keep me safe.”

For some reason, I know now we’re talking about more than just the threat of her safety. I hope she knows that I’ll also keep her heart safe, forever. Hopefully my declaration of love is the first step in that direction.

I’m suddenly desperate for her to give me the same words, and I’m about to find a way to broach the subject, when the door flies open and Sabrina, Shawn, and Indigo’s mom rush in.

“The nerve of that bitch!” Sabrina shrieks, her face contorted with fury from her position…which is slung over Shawn’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “The absolute nerve! That psycho bitch! That miserable cunt!”

“She tried to jump over the gate to get to Joan,” Shawn says, closing the door behind them. “I grabbed her back before the police man could. Although I didn’t want to.”

“How dare she ruin your moment with her verbal filth,” Sabrina continues when she’s put down. She runs over to Indigo, who has slipped out of my arms and pulls her into a hug.

“It was an unexpected ending, but we’re all so proud of you Indigo,” her mom says, hugging both Sabrina and Indigo. “It doesn’t change anything about how brave you were. You were incredible up there.”

“You’re my hero,” Shawn puts in seriously, and then wraps his arms around the now growing circle. “Everyone will know the truth, and how you survived what those fucking devils put you through.”

“I wish she could rot in jail for the rest of her life,” Sabrina sighs angrily, buried somewhere beneath the circle of arms.

Everyone looks over to me at the same time, and I think, oh what the hell, I’ll have my own time with Indigo later. I wrap my arms around the outside and squeeze everyone tight until we all fall down in a big pile, laughter ringing throughout the entire room.