Why they took the computer away

It was a dark Thursday, Maundy Thursday, eve of Good Friday.  She was going to be alone in the house. She had a plan: get into a place where she is forbidden.  So as soon as I left the house, she launched into her father’s desktop and logged into MSN Chat. And that was how we lost our computer.

She said she chatted with only her friends. Friends, for a 17 year old, is a very broad definition. A friend of a friend of a friend is a friend. So this friend of friend of etc. came online. He chatted. He confessed he loved her, wanted to see her. He lived round the corner. “Round the corner”  is a also a very broad definition.  They’ve met before. In summer, at the milkbar, round the corner.  She said no at first. We had records of that chat. Then she finally relented. Gave her address !!!!!  He came round.  And being a silly teenager, she said they could talk in the room. What was she thinking?!  That’s what everyone asked: the police, the counsellor, the mother, the father, the brother.... “What were you thinking?”  Apparently, she thinketh not.   So the boy advanced. She pushed him away. She closed the door. He forced it open. He touched her breast. She yelled. But no one hears your screams in the suburbs.  He unzipped his pants and masturbated in front of her. She closed her eyes. Then he left. “Please don’t tell anyone about this” he said.

She told everyone.

She rang me. I freaked out. I thought the worst. I rang the police. They thought the worst. They turned up. They rang the Sexual Abuse Centre. They thought the worst.  They arranged for an appointment the next day.... Good Friday.

When all the words had been printed in black and white, it wasn’t the worst. As the Police said, this was a “successful outcome”.  But..... the Detective came round. He wanted her to press charges. He took fingerprints, he took her clothes, he examined the ground, and he took our computer away.

Several months have passed.

The computer is still away... we don’t know if it’ll ever come back.  We got another barebone system.

She is still chatting. But she’s no longer a purple fairy princess. She wants her room to be black and her fashion style, punk.