REMEMBERING MARISSA

Marissa Kennedy was ten years old when she died. Her family remembered her as a happy little girl with a smile that could light up a room. Marissa loved swimming. She enjoyed car shows and building with Legos. She liked spending time outside, especially when she could be near the water. Before moving to Maine, Marissa lived in New York, where she attended Windsor Academy and New Windsor School. She loved animals and enjoyed visiting places where she could see and interact with them. One surviving photograph shows Marissa smiling during a visit to the Maine State Aquarium, touching sea life in one of its touch tanks. Her extended family remembered a child who was loved deeply by those who knew her. Those memories matter because the final months of Marissa’s life were almost completely consumed by abuse. Marissa was not the abuse that happened to her. She was a ten year old girl who loved to swim, build with Legos and smile for the people she loved.

MARISSA’S STORY

By 2016, Marissa was living in Maine with her mother, Sharon Carrillo, and her stepfather, Julio Carrillo. Concerns about Marissa began reaching the Maine Department of Health and Human Services long before her death. In October 2016, a school employee reported that Marissa had accumulated five unexcused absences. Julio told the school that Marissa was missing class because she was receiving mental health treatment. School staff questioned that explanation because they had not observed the behavioral problems he described. The report did not result in a formal child protection assessment. In December, the school contacted the state again. Marissa had accumulated additional absences. The school had begun its truancy process, the family was not reliably returning calls and staff remained concerned. A mental health professional also contacted the department. This time, a child protection assessment was opened. It was eventually closed without a finding that Marissa was being abused or neglected. The reports did not stop. Over the following months, schools, neighbors and professionals repeatedly raised concerns about Marissa and her family. By the summer of 2017, the family had moved to Stockton Springs. During the final months of Marissa’s life, the violence against her became relentless. Marissa was repeatedly beaten by Sharon and Julio. The abuse became a routine inside the home. She was struck with hands and household objects. She was forced into physically painful positions and subjected to degrading punishments. Marissa was also increasingly isolated. She was withdrawn from public school and homeschooled, removing one of the places where adults outside the family had previously been able to see her regularly. By February 2018, Marissa’s body could no longer withstand what was happening to her. On February 25, emergency responders were called to the family’s Stockton Springs condominium. Marissa was dead. The adults initially attempted to explain her death as an accident. The condition of Marissa’s body made that explanation impossible to sustain. Her body was covered with evidence of repeated injuries. An autopsy documented extensive trauma in different stages of healing, showing that the violence had occurred over time rather than during a single incident. The medical examiner determined that Marissa died from heart failure associated with battered child syndrome. Her death was a homicide. She was ten years old.

SYSTEM FAILURES & WARNING SIGNS

Marissa’s death triggered one of the most significant examinations of Maine’s child protection system in recent years. In the 16 months before she died, the Maine Department of Health and Human Services received 25 reports concerning Marissa or members of her household. Those reports came from people who had opportunities to observe what was happening around her. School employees called. Mental health professionals called. Neighbors raised concerns. Reports described school absences, troubling family behavior and concerns about Marissa’s safety and well being. Some reports were screened out. Others resulted in assessments. At different points, the family was referred to services intended for cases considered lower risk. Marissa remained in the home. Then she became increasingly difficult for outsiders to see. She was removed from public school. The family moved. Contacts with professionals became less consistent. The adults responsible for protecting Marissa were receiving fragments of information, but the system repeatedly failed to assemble those fragments into an accurate picture of the danger surrounding her.

After Marissa died, Maine lawmakers ordered an independent investigation into how the child protection system had handled her case and the separate death of four year old Kendall Chick. The investigation identified serious weaknesses in Maine’s child welfare system, including problems with assessments, communication, staffing, workloads and the handling of cases referred to alternative response programs. Marissa’s death helped trigger statewide reforms. Maine increased child welfare staffing and funding. Practices surrounding abuse investigations were reconsidered. Cases previously referred to outside contractors for lower risk intervention were reviewed again. Policies were changed. But the most devastating number remained unchanged. Twenty five reports had reached the department concerning Marissa’s family before she died. The system did not confirm that Sharon and Julio were abusing her until Marissa was dead.

JUSTICE FOR MARISSA

Sharon and Julio Carrillo were arrested and charged with depraved indifference murder following Marissa’s death. Julio eventually pleaded guilty to murder. He admitted participating in the prolonged abuse that killed his stepdaughter. In August 2019, Julio was sentenced to 55 years in prison. Sharon maintained her innocence and went to trial. Her defense argued that she had been controlled and abused by Julio and challenged the extent of her responsibility for Marissa’s death. The jury heard evidence concerning months of abuse as well as statements Sharon had made to investigators acknowledging her participation. In December 2019, the jury found Sharon guilty of depraved indifference murder. She was sentenced in February 2020 to 48 years in prison. Sharon appealed her conviction and sentence. In April 2021, the Maine Supreme Judicial Court upheld both.

 

Julio Carrillo

Relationship to Marissa: Stepfather

Conviction(s): Murder

Sentence: 55 years in prison

 

Sharon Carrillo

Relationship to Marissa: Mother

Conviction: Depraved indifference murder

Sentence: 48 years in prison

FOREVER REMEMBERED

Marissa’s death changed Maine. Lawmakers held hearings. Investigators examined thousands of pages of child welfare records. Policies changed. Money was allocated. Workers were added. The state reconsidered how reports of suspected abuse were evaluated. All of those things mattered. But none of them were what Marissa needed most. She needed the system to change while she was still alive. Before her name became attached to legislation, investigations and reports, Marissa was simply a little girl. She liked swimming. She liked Legos. She liked car shows. She had gone to school in New York and later moved to Maine She smiled while exploring an aquarium. Her family remembered that smile lighting up a room. Those ordinary details are precious because they return something the circumstances of Marissa’s death tried to take from her. Her identity. Marissa was not a case study in child welfare failure. She was the child the system was supposed to protect. She was not evidence in two murder prosecutions. She was a daughter. She was not one of 25 reports. She was Marissa. The reforms that followed her death may protect children Marissa never had the chance to meet. Her name deserves to remain attached not only to what went wrong, but to the child whose life made fixing those failures so urgent. Marissa should have been able to swim again. She should have built more things with her Legos. She should have entered middle school, become a teenager and discovered hundreds of new things she loved. Ten years was not enough. Abuse Angels remembers Marissa Kennedy. Remembered. Honored. Never Forgotten.