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It is a prayer one says over an absence, over a string. A melbourneindymedia police psychologist told the newspaper that the rapist melbourneindymedia might have gotten some kind of kick out of dating and being engaged to a worker at the Rape Crisis Counseling Center. That he was thrilled melbourneindymedia that he might be nailing someone who had comforted his victims. Here's my cut-through-my-own-bullshit truth: The rapist was fucking my ex-sister-in-law. She received flowers and gifts and treats from the rapist. The rapist seduced her. The goddamned stupidity of it, of the hiddenness, of the unknown, that we became that pathetic neighbor or relative on the local news, spouting off about how I didn't know, about how he seemed so normal, how he led a double life. The rapist fucked her. She has to live with that. She has to live with the fact that at some point she woke up to discover everything she believed about the world was wrong.
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