And as for news…there isn’t any.

I last called Detective Austin on Sunday, June 28, at 4:31 a.m. I didn’t expect him to actually answer, of course, I just left a message asking what was new. I dialed the last number he’d called me from, figuring he’d get the message when he went to work on Monday. It turned out I’d called his personal cell phone. Whoops. He texted me five or six hours later saying there was nothing new and don’t call his personal cell phone at 4:31 a.m. on a Sunday.

I called him again half an hour ago, at his work number. And again, there is nothing. Less than nothing, even. He told me they hadn’t got any fingerprints off the condom wrapper the Beast left behind. Damn and blast it. This animal has all the luck and I’ve got none at all. I expressed the fear that the Beast had decamped for parts unknown and Austin said he didn’t think so. He said he was waiting for people to call him back about some “technical things” and it might be months. (I’m not sure if he meant months till they call him back, or months before I can expect any resolution. I expect the latter, but I’ve heard it can take months to get crime lab results too. Anyway, I hope neither of those things are true.) Austin did seem reasonably confident still, but I don’t know if that’s an act he’s putting on for my benefit or what. I’m left feeling thoroughly nauseated.

I ought to get hold of the Victim’s Advocacy lady again and find out what she can do for me. I suppose she can help me apply to the crime victim’s compensation fund. The rest home was free but I haven’t been able to work in over a week, and the papers said “lost wages” was something I could get compensated for. Certainly I need the money. Got bills I got to pay. But it hardly seems to matter at the moment. In any case I left all her information and papers and stuff behind at the clinic and may not be able to get them back for over a week. Along with my private diary! I really wish I had my diary. I’m sure no one’s going to read it, I just want it back so I can write in it and say a lot of nasty words I can’t write on this blog.

And soon I need to go to the doctor and get tested for every disease known to man. *bangs head against the wall*

It’s only been three weeks. I can’t believe it — it feels like forever.

18 thoughts on “And as for news…there isn’t any.

  1. Cheryl July 8, 2009 / 8:24 pm

    You haven’t been tested yet? Whatcha waiting for? Get your but checked out. Those results take a week or two to get back. You need to know NOW if picked up something from the Beast or not.

    I had to go thru that whole process 2 years ago. The guy I was dating decided he need to share his d#&K with any female that paid attention to him – of course I was the last to know about this. Had to have HIV testing, Hepatis B & C and all the VD tests. Thank God I didn’t catch anything.

    Your physical health is just as important as your mental. Make an appointment!!


    • Meaghan July 8, 2009 / 8:30 pm

      They told me to wait a month. It’s been three weeks now, so…

      I doubt I’ve got anything, but certainly if I do I’d rather know about it. I don’t fancy the idea of having my brain slowly rot from the inside because I didn’t bother to get tested for syphilis, for example.

  2. Joanne July 9, 2009 / 8:49 pm

    I don’t understand why your boyfriend is not helping you out. What kind of boyfriend is this? Does this relationship have any future?

    • Meaghan July 9, 2009 / 9:23 pm

      There really isn’t anything he can do for me, beyond being sympathetic and stuff. He is, I think, very angry. I think if I put the Beast alone in a room with my boyfriend, his lifespan would be about five minutes. We’ve been together seven years now.

  3. Joanne July 9, 2009 / 9:59 pm

    But I don’t understand. Seven years, and he wouldn’t be helping you pay your bills? Or coming to stay with you, or having you stay with him? He doesn’t seem like much of a boyfriend.

    It seems like you are young, your whole life is ahead of you. Why don’t you move somewhere where you can go to school, be with people your age who share your interests, and meet some new people? Just having roomates you like, who are your friends, would be a much happier place to live.

    And with all that reading, you could be getting college credits and a degree for it. And working/going to school part time if you don’t want to go full time.

    • Meaghan July 9, 2009 / 10:26 pm

      Actually, Michael has been begging me to move in with him for years. My reluctance to do so has nothing to do with him. Mainly it’s due to our finances (he’s in even worse state than I am) and his somewhat chaotic living situation. (Half the time either he hates his roommate or I do. Things are good now, but only a few months ago they were hellish.) I do spend every weekend with him.

      I have been thinking of going back to school next year. I would love to be back in school again. It’s too late to apply for this year, but next year I could go, and I’m now old enough to be considered independent for financial aid purposes. I was even looking at a university in Italy. There’s also good ol’ Ohio State University, which would cost less, and they offer Yiddish, something I’d like to learn.

  4. emma l July 10, 2009 / 10:55 am

    I was in the same situation a few years ago. I ended up moving in with my boyfriend for a few months, but the flatmare situation was a nightmare. In the end we moved into a flat on our own. We have no money, but we do have our own space..

  5. emma l July 10, 2009 / 10:56 am

    “flatmate situation” it should read..

  6. Dream July 11, 2009 / 11:08 pm

    Why don’t you call or email the editors at DC City Paper and pitch them this story? IF you don’t want to write it, maybe at least they’ll take an interest.

    • Meaghan July 12, 2009 / 12:47 am

      Next time I talk to Austin I’ll ask him if he thinks publicity might help and if he would be willing to talk to a reporter.

    • Meaghan July 12, 2009 / 12:48 am

      Yes, I have severe depression. Yes, I was hospitalized for it almost exactly a year ago. What’s your point?

      I am getting tested on Tuesday at 11:30 a.m.

  7. annaliese m July 12, 2009 / 12:17 am

    Try this on for size:

    Forgettable Friends
    by: Michael Lianez
    Ostracized from all, she does not even know
    Her grave transgression nor how to make amends
    In order to prove her love and faithfully show
    That she is punished for an imagined crime.

    complete poem at

    reader, you do the math

  8. Dream July 12, 2009 / 5:47 pm

    Why is there no news release of the police sketch?

    There’s also no incident report that matches up to your account of events.

    The reporter will ask the officer, you don’t need to do so. Since you’re already gone public, the police aren’t bound by the usual drill of using your real name, etc. You don’t need to do anything, other than contact a journalist or two.

    I want to be sympathetic, but I’m starting to wonder if you’re working on a novel or something, and testing it here, or doing some sort of research here.

  9. Dream July 12, 2009 / 5:48 pm

    Sorry– this should read

    “The police aren’t bound by the usual drill of NOT using your real name, etc.”

  10. Dream July 12, 2009 / 8:36 pm

    I see my previous comments about the Fairfax police incident reports didn’t make the cut.

  11. Bart July 12, 2009 / 8:44 pm

    Fairfax county’s incident reports are online. Your incident should be there. Any reason why not?

  12. Will July 13, 2009 / 7:57 pm

    Now that you bring it up, “Dream”, you may have some psychological issues of your own. I say this because you seem not to understand how crass and hurtful it is to question someone else’s personal tragedy, especially when you don’t have all the facts, indicating a basic ignorance or outright dismissal of a variety of social norms, because you went so far as to seek out local incident reports pertaining to the rape of a stranger, which is well within the definition of stalking in some jurisdictions, and because you are so convinced that your half-baked theory is correct that you are willing to risk causing untold harm to someone you seem never to have met, indicating, at best, a special kind of pigheadedness, and at worst, a touch of narcissism.

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