Personal Narrative-Satire Or Injustice?

At this point the entire neighborhood was uneasy and curious. As they began to wrap up and leave I noticed my husband becoming a little anxious, so I asked him, “Are you alright?” he replied, “Yes, I’m just glad the police are gone.” As daylight began to fade and night started to set in a couple of my friends came to visit me, and we were seating, conversing and watching TV, when we heard a loud knock on the door. Before I could make it to the door I heard another loud knock followed by a shout saying, “POLICE OPEN THE DOOR!” My husband jumps up and run to the back room, which I find strange. I opened the door to four officers with their weapons drawn asking me, “Where’s your husband?” Before I could answer they pushed me out the way and instructed my friends and I to lay on the floor and remain still. They then began to search the house and found my husband hiding in a closet. They

I was completely puzzled but I cooperated. When I entered the station the Chief of Police instructed me to have a seat and began the questioning. He asked, “Do you know why you are here?” I told him, “No,” and then told me he was investigating the rape of my stepdaughter, in which she named my husband the offender. He tells me this went on from the age 11-14, 14 being here current age. Then he starts to describe in explicit details how, what, when, and where the events took place. I found the information to much for me to bare and I broke down in tears. The officer gave me his card and told me if I could remember anything to give him call. As I was leaving I felt so empty inside, like someone had ripped the life out of me.

A month had passed and I haven’t seen or talked to my husband since everything had happened, so when I finally was able to visit him I had one question to ask him, “Are you guilty?” He was adamant he was innocent but his daughter begs to differ. I