My Sister Threatened To Have Me Kicked Out If I Didn’t Leave Her Room…
Seeking a Safe Haven
The next morning the company thanked us for the information and assured us it would be handled with the utmost seriousness and confidentiality. They also stated they had a legal obligation to report certain types of abuse to authorities, which panicked Sarah.
“I didn’t want that” “Hey calm down” I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt.
They probably just have to say that for liability reasons, and even if they report it, the police would need to find us first. This calmed her, but she was still on edge.
We decided to be extra careful. I asked my friend Lily to bring us food instead of going to the dining hall or convenience store.
She had been texting me all week asking where I was, but I only told her I was dealing with family stuff. When I called and asked if she could bring us groceries, she immediately agreed.
“Are you in trouble?” The dinner was delivered, and she looked at Sarah, who was hiding in the restroom.
“It’s complicated” I responded. “I’ll explain later I swear please don’t tell anyone I’m here or that my sister is here”
Lily nodded, frightened. “Whatever you need just let me know if I can help”
After she left, Sarah came out of the bathroom. “Can we trust her?” I nodded. “Lily solid she won’t say anything”
That weekend Jon’s company sent us another email. They had fired him immediately and thanked us for coming forward.
Sarah and I high-fived when we read it. It felt like the first real win.
The Stalker’s Voice
But that day I got a voicemail from a number I didn’t recognize. When I played it, I nearly dropped my phone.
It was John. “Emily I know you have Sarah with you this little game you two are playing has gone too far your lies cost me my job and your mother is devastated if you don’t bring Sarah home by Monday we’ll report her missing think about what you’re doing”
His voice was calm and reasonable, like he used to talk to neighbors and teachers. It had fooled everyone for years.
But something else terrified me. He seemed sure of our location, not guessing or trying to trick us.
I deleted the message without telling Sarah, but I was shaken. Filing a missing person’s report might lead the police to find Sarah.
That night after Sarah fell asleep, I called the campus legal aid office and pretended to be asking for a friend whose younger sister was being abused at home. The law student who answered explained that in our state a minor could petition for emancipation under certain circumstances.
I told Sarah about emancipation the next morning and she seemed interested but scared. “Would I have to go to court would I have to see them?” “Maybe,” I said. “But you’d have a lawyer and all our evidence.”
She thought about it all day and decided to do it that evening. “You’re not alone,” I reminded her. “I’m right here.”
The next day we went to the legal aid office together. Sarah had not left the dorm in over a week.
She wore a hoodie pulled low over her face and kept looking around nervously as we walked across campus. David, a patient and kind law student, explained the emancipation process to Sarah.
Aunt Jessica’s Call
She had to prove she could support herself financially, had a place to live, and that emancipation was in her best interest due to the abuse. “Are you employed or have savings?” Sarah shrugged.
David asked if grandparents, aunts, and uncles could help. Most of our extended family had sided with our parents in the past, but now after everything we’d revealed.
“Maybe,” I said. Our aunt in Colorado always suspected something was wrong.
She sent us money cards that our parents held for us. “Never saw a dime of that money,” Sarah murmured.
David suggested we contact this aunt to see if she’d assist and gather further proof, such as medical records of injuries and school reports of behavioral abnormalities. I nodded, but I was distracted by a car that looked like John’s in the campus parking lot.
It was probably nothing, lots of people had silver Hondas, but it put me on edge. After returning to the dorm, there was a note taped to our door.
My heart nearly stopped thinking it was from our parents who had found us, but it was from my RA reminding everyone about the fire drill. Sarah immediately went to my laptop and started searching for Aunt Jessica’s contact information.
“Found her?” Rachel had a major argument with her at Thanksgiving when I was 12.
“She’s on Facebook,” Sarah said after 20 minutes of research. We sent a careful message asking if we might phone her concerning a family problem and waited.
The response came faster than expected. Aunt Jessica answered and left her number within an hour. “Call anytime I’ve been worried about you ladies for years”
Sarah and I gazed at one another. Had Aunt Jessica known?
Had she attempted to assist but been rejected by our parents? I placed the phone on speaker with quivering hands. “Hello” Aunt Jessica’s warm deep voice sounded like I recalled.
“That’s Emily Sarah is here too” “Girls my gosh are you okay I’ve seen some unusual posts from your mother”
We alternated recounting the abuse, Sarah’s escape, and our liberation plan. Aunt Jessica listened without interrupting, occasionally making little distress noises.
After a lengthy quiet she spoke with emotion. “How you both cringed when your father yelled Emily you were slender how your mother changed the subject when I asked too many questions.”
She inhaled. “I attempted to report it once after Thanksgiving called CPS but they stated they couldn’t do anything without evidence”
“Your parents must have assured them everything was all right I felt grateful to this woman who helped us when no one else would.” “Will you aid Sarah’s emancipation?” I questioned. “She needs financial support on paper.”
“Of course I will,” Aunt Jessica answered confidently. “I want to do more I wish to house Sarah I have extra space she could graduate high school in Colorado without this”
Sarah’s eyes widened. “Really you do” “A heartbeat” Aunt Jessica said. “Emily too during breaks”
Balancing Crisis and School
Sarah was ecstatic after the conversation. For the first time since this nightmare began, I felt like we may have a future with genuine people who cared about us.
“Did that just happen is there an exit” I agreed, smiling at her enthusiasm. “It looks good but we still have work to do emancipation may take months”
“I don’t care” Sarah responded. “Just knowing there’s an end in sight it changes everything”
Friday we returned to legal assistance. David helped us start the emancipation papers and Aunt Jessica joined by phone to sign an affidavit promising to house and support Sarah.
Things were looking great until I opened my email that night and saw my academic advisor’s note: urgent academic probation warning. I’d missed so many classes and assignments that I was in danger of failing the semester.
If I didn’t get back on track I could lose my scholarship and have to move back home. I stared at the email in horror.
How had I forgotten about this? I’d been so focused on helping Sarah that I’d neglected my own situation.
“What’s wrong” Sarah inquired, seeing my frown, and I gave her the email. “I can’t stay here without my scholarship”
“I can’t stay here either” Sarah added. “Not until the emancipation goes through”
We sat silently weighing this new predicament. “You have to go back to class” Sarah remarked. “I’ll be fine here alone”
“No way” I spat. “What if they find you they may attempt to take you back”
“They don’t know which dorm you’re in” She said. “And I won’t answer the door for anyone but you”
I didn’t like it but she was correct. I had to save my academic standing so I reluctantly returned to class the next morning.
The Reality of Resilience
After spending so much time in the dorm, it was strange to be around other students again. Everyone was talking about parties, assignments, and relationship drama, but it seemed trivial compared to Sarah and I.
When I told my professors about my family emergency, most gave me extensions on missed assignments. By the end of the day I felt like I could catch up.
When I returned to the dorm Sarah was fine as promised. She’d spent the day researching emancipation cases and making lists of evidence.
“Look at this,” She said, giving me her notebook. “I put down every big occurrence I can remember with dates when possible I found my old journals which may assist”
I was impressed by her organization. “Very helpful” I smiled at approval.
I realized how rarely she must have heard positive feedback growing up. Our parents had only ever criticized, never encouraged.
I went to class and worked on assignments while Sarah stayed in the dorm preparing her case and communicating with Aunt Jessica and David. In the evenings we swapped notes and planned our next steps.
Manipulation and Fear
Rachel’s email arrived at my student email address, which I hadn’t checked in a while. The subject line was “Please read.”
I opened it against my better judgment. “Emily I don’t know what lies your sister has been telling you but your father and I are worried sick Sarah needs aid professional aid”
“She’s always had issues you know remember when she made up stories for attention very similar but worse your father is horrified by these claims after everything we’ve done for you both how could you believe such horrible things about him Emily we funded your college we provided everything we can forget this if you bring Sarah home nobody will get mad family unity is what we seek Emily please do the right thing”
I read it three times feeling ill each time. The manipulation was so clear without them.
I gave Sarah the email. Her hands trembled as she read it. “She’s lying,” Sarah muttered. “You know she’s lying right?”
“Of course I know,” I said. “What happened?” “I saw what they did to us,” Sarah acknowledged but she was uneasy all day.
The next morning Sarah was seated at my desk looking at the laptop screen. “What are you doing” I asked, groggy from sleep.
“Mom contacted me too” She replied bluntly. “She claimed stress is causing Dad’s heart issues it’ll be my fault if he dies”
I got out of bed and stared at the laptop. Rachel had written me an even more deceitful email.
“Don’t listen to her” I insisted. “Dad’s heart is okay they’re pressuring you to return”
Sarah nodded uncertainly. “What if he’s sick what if he’s not” I stopped her. “Even if he was it wouldn’t be your fault Sarah none of this is your fault”
She closed the laptop and massaged her eyes. “I know logically I know I only have them in my brain they made me feel responsible for everything for years”
I understood what she meant and sometimes thought that if I’d been better tried more or been less autistic they wouldn’t have mistreated us. “We need to block their emails,” I said. “They’re just trying to mess with our heads.”
Sarah agreed and we spent the morning filtering their communications into a folder not visible to us. I met with my academic adviser that afternoon.
