I got a reply from the school social worker. She was very careful to point out that she’s a mandated reporter and will be forwarding my email to her to the sheriff’s department. She also encouraged me to call her and further discuss this because I didn’t give her any names. As I told her, I’m okay with losing my friendship to protect this boy but I am not at all interested in being a whistle blower just for the sake of blowing whistles and I wanted to know that something would happen. This was before I learned of the pictures thing, which I also emailed her about earlier this morning before she’d had a chance to reply to me.
So I texted Donna and said that I had emailed the social worker from a dummy account and didn’t use names but now the sheriff’s department has a copy of my email. She told me she’d be right over.
I read bits of the reply to Donna, as was my intention. I asked the social worker for her professional opinion whether, in the absence of actual physical abuse, something like this could still damage a kid. I know the answer to that; I asked that question specifically so I could show Donna the answer because she’s said about a hundred times that she doesn’t think Henry would actually “do” anything. And she burst into tears when I read the part about yes, of course this is damaging and, btw, kids are typically very private people and don’t share texts with parents and other adults even when they probably should (like with bullying; we all know how common not telling is) so the fact that he showed her is a huge, big deal and he’s asking her for help. She sobbed and sobbed. “I don’t know what to do.”
She asked if I thought the police would be able to find me. Now, I don’t actually know that. I have no idea how easy or difficult that would be for them. But I basically made it sound like I think the FBI is going to be knocking on my door at any second. I told her I’m positive the cops will damn sure at least try to find me and, if they can’t, they can certainly get their hands on more resources than they have. Maybe it will take some time because warrants or whatever, but they’ll definitely figure it out. “OMG, I don’t know what to do. I’m so sorry for putting you in this position. I don’t know what to do…”
With her sobbing on the other end of my couch, I emailed the social worker again. I told her I have this woman at my house and I’m giving her one chance to do the right thing here. If she doesn’t call you I’ll do it myself and you’ll have the names by lunch time. And I told Donna, who didn’t know that I had just sent that email or what it said, that somebody would have to call this woman and I don’t care at this point who that someone is.
Sob sob sob, he’s going to hate me, the girls are going to hate me, sob, I’m ruining his life. And I did my best: you didn’t do anything wrong, he’s the one who did this, your life isn’t over, blah blah.
So then she tried to leave. “I’m going to go get my dad so he can come with me [ostensibly to visit the social worker] because I can’t go by myself.” Okay, sure. Let me pack up the kids and I’ll bring you to your dad. “No, I’ll be fine.” Uh huh… I don’t actually trust her to do anything so I’m like, “You know what would be better? Let’s just call her. I’ll help you! Let’s call her right now and I’m right here with you and everything will be fine. It’ll be so much better than having to go down there…” thinking either she’ll do it or she’ll leave and I’ll email the SW again as soon as she’s out my door. Either way, I’m all done.
And then SHE ACTUALLY FUCKING DID IT, omg. dies
I heard the woman answer the phone and Donna mouthed “son of a bitch” and burst into tears. I think she was hoping for voicemail? Or maybe when the woman answered, that made it real? I don’t know. So she sobs and sobs and identifies herself and says, “I’m sorry, this is so much harder than I thought.” And the SW goes, “I think I know what this is about.” And Donna said, “You got an email, right?” And then the SW said she was going to go to Donna’s house to talk about this and Donna left and it’s all over. From my end, anyway. I offered to go home with her and be there when the social worker shows up but she declined and said she’d get in touch with me later.
She’s devastated. And I guess I feel bad because she’s hurting and scared and whatever but wtf else could I possibly have done? Nothing? Not an option.
So it’s over. And she thanked me before she left, I guess for kind of forcing her to actually do something? I don’t know.
I really don’t care, I’m just so happy it’s over.