Page 248 of Releasing 10
JANUARY 4, 2001
TELLINGHUGH ABOUT MY MEMORIES WAS A MISTAKE.
Not because he didn’t believe me, but because I didn’t believe myself.
My memories continued to fuse with my imagination until I couldn’t tell the difference.
I couldn’t be sure of anything anymore, which didn’t help matters when Hugh called a meeting with my parents on New Year’s Day and demanded we file another statement with the Gardaí, providing them with the details I had given him the night before.
I tried to remain stable, I truly did, but when I was taken to the station and faced with more officers, I lost it.
Unable to retain any coherent detail of the night my sister died, I had rambled on deliriously until they called in a doctor.
After that, everything went dark.
When my parents brought me back to the station three days later, I was questioned intrusively on the state of my home life by another officer. This one didn’t a wear a uniform, but she spoke like one and bombarded me with questions she had no business asking.
“Is there any history of abuse in the home?”
“No.”
“Are you sure? This is a safe space, where you can be truthful.”
“No.”
“Has anyone ever touched you inappropriately?”
“No.”
“What about when you were little?”
“No.”
“Are you sure about that, Lizzie?”
“Yes.”
“How is your relationship with your mother.”
“Good.”
“And your father?”
“Fine.”
“Has either one of your parents ever harmed you?”
“No.”
“No physical reprimands or spanking?”
“Never.”
“And your sister?”
“No, they never touched her, either.”
“Did your sister ever harm you?”
