Diary of a Young Girl

by Mark Anthony

  “Like being vindicated. Especially being vindicated in my father’s eyes and being vindicated in everybody else’s eyes, for that matter.”

  Andrea nodded.

  “I mean, I know what happened to me that night. And I know Antonio Reid is the guy who raped me but if the jury doesn’t believe my story then I’m just gonna continue to be looked at as this fast-ass promiscuous chick who was just looking for it and got more than she could handle.”

  Andrea and I continued to talk and we also ate the continental breakfast that she had in her office. Between still feeling hungover and with my nerves on edge I barely ate or drank anything. Fortunately for me, time flew by and by nine-thirty that morning, I found myself in a packed courtroom.

  The media was there in full force. Antonio Reid seemed as if he had paid his friends and family to come down and support him. The courtroom was packed with his supporters. I couldn’t help but feel like all of the eyes in the entire courtroom were on me. But thankfully, I did have a few supporters, namely my Aunt Tanisha and her husband and all of their kids, all of them except for Earl. But what shocked me the most wasn’t that my father hadn’t shown up, it was the fact that his girlfriend had. Yup, she was sitting right in the front row in front with my aunt.

  I sat with a blank look on my face and I looked straight ahead. The judge soon entered the courtroom and my heart began to beat even faster. Andrea rubbed me on my leg and she grabbed hold of my sweaty, clammy hands.

  At that point the only thing that I could think about was my mom. I wondered if she was able to see what was going on.

  Then the jury was brought into the courtroom.

  The judge brought order to the court and then he began giving instructions to the courtroom and to the jury. When he was done with his instructions I knew that the moment of truth was finally there. He asked the jury had they reached a verdict. After they told him that they had, the judge then asked the defendant to stand.

  Andrea tapped me on my leg and she nodded for me to look toward Antonio Reid.

  I looked at him and he also looked at me. He stood clasping his hands, which were behind his back. He didn’t look at me for too long as he turned his attention to the judge and then to the jury forewoman.

  “For the charge of rape in the first degree, do you find the defendant Antonio Reid guilty or not guilty?”

  My heart couldn’t beat any faster and my mouth was dry as a desert.

  “We find the defendant guilty,” the petite forewoman said in a calm and quiet voice.

  “I told you, baby! We did it!” Andrea whispered into my ear as she and the whole prosecution team embraced me in a group hug.

  “Yo, this is some bullshit! That ho is lying!” somebody screamed from the audience.

  I also heard loud crying coming from a woman in the front row. After the embrace was over I looked and saw that it was Antonio Reid’s fiancée who was crying. Drowning out her tears and what took my attention away from her was the loud jeering that continued to come from all of Antonio Reid’s supporters who were in the courtroom.

  The thing that I remembered hearing the most throughout the loud throng of voices were the words bitch, whore, slut, and tramp. I have to admit that the reaction from everybody really made me feel like shit. It also made me wonder had I done the right thing by going through with the whole trial.

  The judge tried his best to restore order to the court but things had turned into an absolute zoo and there was complete pandemonium.

  Antonio Reid had sat back down and he had his face buried in both of his hands. I couldn’t see his eyes but I could tell that he was clearly sobbing.

  Wow, I thought to myself. I had never in my life seen a grown-ass man sobbing like that.

  Andrea rubbed my back and I blew out air from my lungs. My heart had finally stopped beating so fast as the reality began to sink in that the trial was in fact finally over.

  The judge was finally able to restore order to the court and he said some further things to the jury before he addressed the defense. Since Antonio Reid had not been able to make bail the judge ordered that he immediately begin serving his sentence. He instructed the court officers to handcuff him and escort him out of the courtroom.

  More jeers began to come from the crowd and the judge banged his gavel and instructed everyone on when the official sentencing would be.

  The court officers asked Antonio to stand so that they could place handcuffs on him. At that point I was able to see the redness in his eyes and the moistness on his face from the tears.

  “It’s gonna be all right, Antonio,” someone shouted.

  “We love you, boo. Keep ya head up,” someone else shouted.

  Antonio had his hands cuffed behind his back and before he was led out of the courtroom he turned and looked at me but he didn’t say anything. Then he looked at his fiancée and he mouthed the words that he loved her.

  “I love you too baby,” she said.

  Just as Antonio was about to walk past the judge he said to him, “Your Honor, she knows in her heart that I didn’t rape her.”

  Then he turned and looked at me as the court officers yanked his arms as if he was a dog and they were pulling on his leash.

  “You know it wasn’t me,” he said to me.

  I looked at him and a smirk mixed with a smile came across my face. I knew that all Antonio Reid was trying to do was play mind games with me. He had raped me, he’d been caught, tried, and convicted, yet he was still trying to come out on top by playing with my head.

  “Nigga, it was you!” I shot back and said with a whole bunch of attitude. I made sure that he heard me just before he disappeared out of eyesight behind a thick security door.

  Andrea and the prosecutor told me to hush and not say anything.

  “He don’t have any power over you. Don’t waist your energy. The jury found him guilty and that’s all that matters,” Andrea whispered into my ear.

  Yeah, that is all that matters, I told myself. Finally, I felt like I had been vindicated. I was desperately hoping that that sense of vindication would begin to change things around for me in my life. Unfortunately, though, that feeling of vindication wouldn’t last forever.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  School Daze

  Two weeks after the trial ended I headed off to start Howard University. I had mixed emotions about leaving New York. On one hand, I was eager to leave because I looked at starting college as a chance to have a fresh new start on everything. On the other hand, I was scared to leave what had been familiar to me.

  I gave up my apartment in New York because I would be renting an apartment down in D.C. I hated to give up my apartment but it was time to move on to new things. Fortunately for me, I still had that twenty-something thousand dollars from the insurance money that I hadn’t squandered and I also had managed to save another 5,000 dollars from the job that I had. My boss had also told me that he would be able to hook me up with a job in D.C. if I wanted to work during the summer and during the winter and spring breaks. So as far as money, I knew that I would be good.

  Andrea and I had hung out the day before I left for school and she gave me one of her usual inspiring talks. She also insisted that I call her on a regular basis to let her know how I was making out.

  I promised her that I would.

  The thing that really tore me apart about leaving for school was the fact that my father had finally given in and called me to wish me well. I felt torn because I didn’t know if by him calling me it meant that he was trying to mend things and include me in his life again. If so, how would that work out now that I would be off and leaving for school, hundreds of miles from New York.

  The day that my phone rang and my father’s number appeared on the caller ID, I immediately thought that it was his girlfriend calling. To my surprise and complete shock it was my father on the other end of the line.

  “Hey Shayla, this is Daddy.”

  I paused when I heard his voice because I didn’t know
what to say.

  My father broke the silence and he asked me how was I doing.

  “I’m doing okay,” I answered. I didn’t know whether to smile or to be angry.

  “Your aunt told me that you would be leaving for school tomorrow and I wanted to make sure that you were okay. Do you need help moving your stuff or anything?”

  “No, I hired this moving and storage company and they are taking care of all of that for me.”

  There was some more awkward silence.

  “I had been trying to call you. Where you been?”

  “I’ve been around. You know, just handling and taking care of business.”

  “I was hoping that you would have come to court during the trial but—”

  My father cut me off. “Baby, I know you wanted me there. But you know what? You’re gonna be nineteen in a few weeks. You’re not my little girl anymore. You’re a grown woman and you gotta fend for yourself.”

  I slowly nodded my head on the other end of the phone and I twisted up my lips because I knew that this conversation wouldn’t flow the way that I had wished it would have flowed.

  “Yeah, I know, it’s just that when they read the verdict I would have given anything for you to have been by my side.”

  My father didn’t say anything. I knew that part of the reason he didn’t say anything was because of his pride and his stubbornness in knowing that the jury had vindicated me and all the while in his heart he thought that I had fabricated the whole rape thing.

  “So you ready for college?” he asked, blatantly changing the subject.

  “I think so.”

  My heart started to pound because I knew that the conversation wouldn’t last for much longer. There was just one thing that I needed to hear my father say, but I was nervous about asking him.

  “You’ll do fine. You’re grown now and you know how to handle yourself,” my father said. He was so superficial.

  My palms got really sweaty and I inhaled a bunch of air. I held it in my lungs for what seemed to be five minutes before slowly letting it seep out.

  “Daddy, are you proud of me?”

  My heart began to pound with anxious anticipation of my father’s answer.

  “Am I proud of you?”

  “Yes. Are you?”

  I could hear my father begin to chuckle on the other end of the phone.

  “Shayla, come on now.”

  “Come on what?”

  “I’m calling to wish you well and see if you need anything. And it’s like every time we talk it’s always some shit.”

  My face frowned up and I instantly got angry, but I caught myself because after all, my father had reached out to me. I didn’t know his true intentions or if he was being genuine. I did want to keep the future lines of communication open, so I knew that right then and there it was time to just end the conversation.

  “Daddy, thanks for calling me. My friend is ringing my intercom right now; she’s downstairs in the lobby and I don’t want her to be waiting on me. We’re gonna run to the mall to get some last-minute stuff. But thanks for calling me and I’ll call you when I get settled in to let you know how I’m making out.”

  “Oh, okay. Yeah, no problem.”

  “All right, so I’ll speak to you later,” I said. I really didn’t want to get off the phone but I knew that it would be best that I did.

  “Daddy, I love you,” I said, shocking myself.

  “I know you do, Shayla. And just remember what I told you earlier. You’re not Daddy’s little girl anymore. So you gotta be tough and learn to fend for yourself.”

  I blew some air into the phone. “Okay, I won’t forget.”

  I paused before telling my father that I had to go.

  My father said good-bye and the conversation ended there. I wanted to scream out in frustration but I kept my composure. Right then and there I convinced myself that my father did in fact love me and he was proud of me, otherwise he wouldn’t have called me.

  At least that’s what I wanted to believe.

  During my first week at Howard University I knew that I was gonna like being a college student. I took to the whole spirit of the college and I made a lot of friends, both male and female, during my first week. Definitely the thing that I liked most was the parties that I’d gone to that first Friday and Saturday night.

  I became cool with this girl named Kenya from my business law class. Kenya was a sophomore from Detroit and she was also a Delta. She had invited me to a party that the Deltas were having that Friday night. I jumped at the chance to go, but the mistake that I made was I’d told Kwame where I was going. I added to my mistake by telling him that it was okay for him to go with me to the party.

  Kwame was cool and he was a cutie but what I didn’t know was that he didn’t know how to come to a party with a chick and still mingle so that I could do me and he could do him. Nah, none of that, Kwame was smothering my ass the entire night at the party, the nigga wouldn’t let me breathe.

  There were all kinds of cuties walking around who I wanted to meet but that was not gonna happen with Kwame practically hanging onto me.

  “Kenya, you gotta help me ditch this bug-a-boo,” I whispered loudly over the music into her ear.

  Kenya turned and looked at Kwame.

  “Hello, I’m Kenya,” she said as she extended her hand to him.

  Kwame shook her hand, smiled, and told her that it was nice to meet her.

  “Kwame, I’ll be right back. I’m going to the bathroom,” I said as I grabbed Kenya by the hand and led her in the direction of the bathroom.

  “Girl, he’s cute! Why you trying to ditch him?”

  “’Cause I didn’t know the nigga was gonna be up under me the whole night. There’s way too many other cuties up in here for him to be playing me so close like he’s my fucking man or something.”

  Kenya laughed.

  “Look, just tell him straight-up to let you breathe a little.”

  I thought for a minute and then I came up with my plan. I knew that all I needed was some liquor in me to loosen me up so I could do me without caring about Kwame. I told Kenya that I was gonna have Kwame run with me to the liquor store and hopefully I would be able to ditch him then.

  “Girl we gotchu! You ain’t gotta run to no liquor store,” said, laughing at me.

  “They serving drinks in here?”

  “No, but me and my soros got our own stash. Just go in the bathroom and chill for a minute. I’ll meet you in there.”

  I excitedly made my way to the bathroom in my tight jeans and high heels and just as I was about the push the bathroom door open I heard Kwame calling my name.

  “Shayla!”

  Oh Dayu, I screamed in my head. I turned around and fully faced Kwame but I didn’t say anything because I knew if I had, I would have simply screamed at him and I didn’t wanna hurt his feelings or embarrass him.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  I smiled and slowly shook my head. “Uh, yeah,” I said as I raised my eyebrows.

  “Oh, okay, so I’ll wait here for you to come out.”

  “No. Kwame, look, I’m a big girl. You ain’t gotta wait for me like I’m in first grade going to use the potty or something.”

  Kwame laughed. “Nah, it’s okay. I don’t mind.” Ugh! I was about to lose it. I didn’t say anything and I just turned and made my way into the bathroom.

  Two minutes later Kenya walked into the bathroom and she immediately burst out laughing as soon as she saw me.

  “You see what the hell I mean now?” I shouted at her. “Yo that nigga is gonna drive me fucking crazy.”

  “Oh my God, Shayla, that ain’t normal, the nigga got stalker tendencies.” Kenya laughed and said, “Here, I know you need this.”

  Kenya handed me a sixteen-ounce container of cranberry juice that she said was mixed with vodka. I took the drink from her hand and I guzzled it down like I was dehydrated and on a desert.

  “Girl, you gonna be throwing up. You can’t drink
that fast,” Kenya warned me.

  I smiled and I shook my head to tell her that I would be all right.

  “You smoke?” I asked her.

  “Weed?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Nah I don’t but my some of my girls do. Why, you want some weed?”

  “Well, first let me go back out here and see how this nigga is acting and then I’ll let you know.”

  Kenya and I made our way out of the bathroom to head back to the party. There Kwame was standing front and center waiting for me. Kenya burst out laughing and she told me that she would see me later. Thankfully, the first effects of the vodka and cranberry juice was kicking in.

  “Come on. Dance with me,” I said to Kwame as I grabbed him by the hand and led him to the dance floor.

  I took Kwame to the middle of the dance floor and I began grinding on him as the DJ played reggae music. He had rhythm but I could tell that he wasn’t that comfortable and he wasn’t letting himself go on the dance floor.

  “What’s the matter? You scared of me or something?” I asked him.

  Kwame shook his head no and he continued to dance with me.

  We danced through two more reggae songs. While I was dancing Kenya came up to me and tapped me on the shoulder.

  “Okay, girl, time to cut the zero and get with a hero.”

  I smiled and looked at her to ask her what she was talking about.

  “One of the Q’s was asking me about you and he wants to meet you.”

  “Is he cute?” I whispered in Kenya’s ear, smiling.

  Based on Kenya’s look I could tell that I had asked a stupid question so I told her to give me about a half an hour to forty-five minutes so that I could permanently ditch Kwame.

  As soon as Kenya walked away I turned toward Kwame and I pulled him close to me. “So you’re not scared of me?”

  “No.”

  I pulled him even closer to me and I began to tongue kiss him right there on the floor.

  To my surprise the kiss was off the hook. Kwame definitely knew how to move his tongue and his body felt really good pressed up against mine. When we finished kissing I looked at Kwame and smiled and then the two of us continued to dance. The DJ switched up the music and threw on hip-hop records.