Lies of a Real Housewife: Tell the Truth and Shame the Devil

by Angela Stanton

  earth.

  On this particular visit, I couldn’t hold my composure. I wasn’t sure

  if I was going to make it after the latest blow life had given me. I told Dr. Freeman about my journey to prison, my release, my job, and how I was back to nothing. I had my recently finished manuscript with me. It was my life and everywhere I went, I carried it along with me. I showed it to him, and briefly

  detailed what it was about.

  After intently listening, the look in his eyes beneath his square

  framed glasses, said it all. Dr. Freeman is a tall bright-skinned, handsome man. He was amazed and immediately started telling me about his friend Goldie Taylor, and about all of her accomplishments. Goldie Taylor was a famous television personality with connections in the literary field. Her biggest achievement of all to me was the fact that she was a successful author. That was my dream.

  Dr. Freeman gave me his word that she would help me. Before I left

  his office that day I had Goldie Taylor’s personal number in hand. It was the blessing I had been waiting for. This provided me with the incentive I needed to keep on pushing. Before calling Goldie, I went to the public library, and did some research into her life. I will be the first to say that I was blown away

  by what she had accomplished.

  The day that I spoke with Goldie, I could tell that there was some-

  thing in her voice which let me know that everything would be alright. She was all ears when I shared my story. I told her about the sexual abuse I endured as a child. I was surprised by the fact that she told me that she had also been a victim. There was an instant bond welding between us. I asked her if she knew Phaedra Parks. She told me that she did, but I didn’t go into any details at that point because Goldie and I still needed to feel each other out. She agreed to meet with me the next week. I sent her my manuscript by email

  so she could read it in the meantime.

  The following week I met Goldie Taylor in the lobby of the RitzCarlton hotel on Peachtree St. She came with gifts in hand. Goldie was a short woman compared to me. She had hair the color of gold, golden skin, and golden eyes. I could easily see why her name was Goldie. She had given me a signed copy of her own book, several other books and a gift card from Barnes and Noble. In addition to that, she had a contract for me to sign. She was so moved by my story, not only my story, but the stories that resided within the pages of my first book, ‘Life Beyond These Walls’.

  She agreed to represent me as my agent. Many promises were made,

  and I was left with a new outlook on life. With my contract signed and dated the next few weeks, I seemed to be making progress. Goldie had already explained to me the grueling process of editing, so I wasn’t too pressed about how quickly this project would jump. I was just happy the process had started.

  My life was beginning to take a perfect shape. I had stopped stress-

  ing, and was now dreaming of all the things I would be able to provide for my children. Then on a day when I was feeling good, there came the one phone call that shifted my life yet again. The phone rang, and looking at the caller ID, I saw that it was Goldie Taylor calling. Feeling the excitement building inside me, I immediately grabbed the phone. My smile quickly turned to a frown. Goldie bluntly and unremorsefully explained that she had received a contract from Warner Books. It was one that she had been waiting on. The contract clearly stated that she could not work on any other projects. Just like that, my dream had died a quick death. It was the last telephone call I ever received from Goldie Taylor. I was hurt because she dropped me like a hot rock, but at the same time I was genuinely happy for her success. I wasn’t going to hate on her for being something I wasn’t. Oh well, back to square one. Back to absolutely nothing!

  I hated taking the position that I took, but it is what it is! You can’t

  live without money, not in this world. Not in anybody’s world. I had to do what I had to do to take care of my children. I was back in the streets, doing what I do best. This included whatever it took to make a way for me and my

  children, I did it.

  Always smart though, I knew I had to have a legal gig going on. I

  had a hidden talent that hadn’t been exposed to the world yet. I was a poet, and street poetry was my calling. I was always known for rapping. I knew people in the music industry, and those contacts came from me dating Drama.

  I had been in the studio with a lot of Atlanta rappers before they

  made it big. My love for rhymes allowed me to cross paths with many of today’s famous artist including Young Dro, Shawty Lo, Fabo, Big Kuntry Kane, TI, Gucci Mane, DJ Jelly and a host of others.

  The first time I really made any noise was when I remixed Shawty Lo’s single, “Dope boys got these girls gone wild,” I switched it to, “Dope girls got these boys going wild,” I went to his studio, got with his producer, Born Immaculate, and remixed his song, on his set.

  Now that was how one makes a huge statement! It was funny watch-

  ing all his boys coming to the back of the studio, standing around the booth, and staring at me through the glass. They needed to witness my act with their own eyes. They couldn’t believe what they were hearing. I was the truth.

  Believe that!

  I stayed in the studio, destined to make a hit. Something had to give. The book I wrote in prison was on hold because I didn’t know what to do with it. Phaedra was acting brand new, I guess she had cut us all off, and gone on with her life. I wasn’t tripping too hard though. I was really just glad that all of it was over. I never truly understood why she refused to help me rebuild my life. I mean, she was all for it when we were doing illegal stuff. I had one major thing on my side. I had a book now, a book that every young girl in the

  world needed to read.

  Why wouldn’t she be all for it when it was something legal and positive? If our relationship had been restricted to boss and worker then I would have had a better understanding. But Phaedra was my friend. She was a godmother to my son Jayvien. She didn’t even give me the honor of sitting down with me to describe my mother’s last day on earth. What had I done to

  push her so far away? I just couldn’t understand it.

  Recording a hit was now at the top of my to-do list. This was prior to Nicki Minaj hitting the music scene. There weren’t any new female rappers out, so the market was wide open. There had to be a way out for my children and me. I was good at anything I put my mind to, so I knew it was the perfect time to come out with a hit. I was sitting at my son’s father’s house. When I

  heard Decatur Slim singing a hook.

  “Get a life, get some swag... Stop popping at the mouth, and pop

  tags…”

  The hook kept going off in my head. Like every five minutes, I

  would hear it again. After a while, the light bulb went on inside my head. That was it. This was going to be the hook for my hit song!

  I sat down with my son’s father and my cousin, Scott, not just by

  chance, but because they were experienced. Scott had already recorded and released an album, and Decatur Slim was one of the best rappers I had ever come across. We wrote the song in less than an hour and we knew it was a hit. We went straight to Patchwerk Recording Studios and recorded it. ‘BOY STOP’ by Lady Lenox.

  The song was hot! Knowing a hit when he heard it, the producer at Patchwerk jumped right on it. He took me straight to Hitt Afta Hitt Entertainment to meet with Johnnie Cabbell. Johnnie heard the song and was digging it. At first, he tried me. It was to be expected. He asked me if I wanted to sell

  my song to Mac Breeze, a local female rapper he managed. She had made

  her claim to fame when she was featured on Gucci Mane’s single, ‘Go Head’.

  Yes, I did say try me! That song was made for me. No flexing, no

  lying, just the honest truth, and you had to have lived that life in order to rap that song. I explained it to Johnnie just like that! Straight up! He told me that he had t
o go out of town, and wanted to meet with me in two weeks when he

  returned.

  During those two weeks the song started playing everywhere in At-

  lanta, on the radio, in the nightclubs, and in all the strip clubs. People were feeling that song everywhere. Straight up! My brother Lee, my cousins and friends were calling saying they were somewhere, and heard it being played. That was one of the best feelings in the world. Johnnie Cabbell had managed just about every hot rapper in the south from Shawty Lo to Gucci Mane. If you wanted to get in the game and you lived in the city, Johnnie was the man

  you needed on your team.

  I spoke with Johnnie several times while he was out of town. I

  shared my struggle with him. After hearing my story, he told me that the path of crime my life had taken, my struggle, and the force that was driving me reminded him of Shawty Lo. I talked to him about the book I’d written in prison, ‘Life beyond these walls’, and my plans.

  The plan I had was to release ‘Boy Stop’ as a single just to get the at-

  tention of the youth, and make a name for myself. Once I accomplished that, I wanted to push the book, right along with launching a national campaign for my nonprofit organization ‘Don’t Ask, Just Tell and Stop the Silence’. I formed this not for profit agency to help worldwide victims of sexual abuse. That was my dream. I thought it was a good idea and so did he. I honestly

  believed he saw my vision for helping others.

  Spring of 2008, Memorial Day was around the corner, and every-

  body I was affiliated with was going to Miami. So I went also. My whole purpose for going was to promote the song. But I hadn’t been anywhere since returning from prison. My children were with my younger cousin, Monique. She agreed to stay over at my house and keep them.

  I kept thinking that a little vacation wouldn’t hurt. I called up my

  homeboy, Jay at Patchwerk and had five thousand CD’s printed. Me, my partner, Renita, and another one of our home girls rented a vehicle and headed for Miami. We didn’t even have a hotel room. We just made up our mind to

  go and left.

  Everybody and they mama was in Miami. South Beach was rocking

  off the chain. Parties were everywhere. Thousands of people, all the rappers, and all of the entertainers were living it up. Jeezy was there, riding around in his blue Lamborghini. I wanted to give him a copy of my CD. I spoke to him, he hollered back. I started to approach him just to give him a copy of my CD. He had a look in his eyes which told me he didn’t want to be bothered, so I turned, and walked away. I wasn’t about to sweat him. I knew him too well

  when he was Jay. I wasn’t stuck on the Young Jeezy hype.

  Renita got the DJ to play ‘Boy Stop’ while thousands of people were

  on the beach. She was a genius. The crowd loved it! Shawty Lo was hot at this time. He was on the beach and he heard it too. It felt so good to look at thousands of people listening to my words. They were all jamming to the sound of my voice. About an hour later, in the lobby of the Sagamore Hotel, I saw Shawty Lo and he commended me on the song. He told me that he definitely wanted to do a remix when we got back to Atlanta. I was ecstatic! He told me to call Johnnie Tuesday and make an appointment for the studio.

  That was all I needed to hear. It felt like Christmas. I called my

  cousins back home, and told them to start celebrating. Everybody was so excited about the news that they just wanted to know when I was coming

  back to Atlanta.

  “Sunday…!” I screamed with excitement. From that point on, I

  started to enjoy the rest of my vacation.

  I had something to look forward to when I got back home. I emailed Phaedra an mp3 copy of my song. Everybody knew it was a hit. Since she had connections with all the record companies, I thought she would at least put it out there for me. But I never heard back from her. I wasn’t about to let that stop me. I was disgruntled a lot by this. I mean it wasn’t like I was asking her for handouts. I was creating opportunities for her to make money as well. I was now really tripping off Phaedra’s ability to distance herself from me. She always pointed out that we were family.

  When I made it back to Atlanta, I felt one hundred pounds lighter,

  and I was relieved that something had finally worked out in my favor. This was the closest I had ever come to living my dream. As per my conversation with Shawty Lo, I called Johnnie on Tuesday. He was still out of town, and promised to call me when he returned. I was on pins and needles, anxious and ambitious. I was even counting the money I hadn’t made yet, and about to burst with excitement. Afraid that I would miss his call, I checked my phone every fifteen minutes.

  Two days later, Johnnie called to tell me that he had just landed at Hartsfield Airport. He offered to pay me for a ride. Johnnie told me that his cars were parked at his home. I understood. I would not want to leave my fancy, high priced car at anyone’s airport either. My stomach was cramping due to my menstruation, it had been cramping all night, but I was only about five minutes away from the airport. I needed the money, and I wanted to discuss the remix anyway. Doing the remix with Shawty Lo had been the only

  thing on my mind. I could barely sleep.

  Johnnie was already waiting outside when I arrived at Hartsfield

  airport. I spoke to him on the phone as I pulled in. By the time he had his seatbelt on, he was already deep in conversation with someone else, and all of his conversation was strictly business. I listened closely while playing it off, as if I wasn’t interested. But I heard the deals he had sealed for Shawty Lo, and I was impressed with his ability to make things happen. He lived about twenty minutes from the airport, right off Moreland Avenue behind Club Blaze.

  As I rode with this man who I had no reason not to trust, I never per-

  ceived him to be any threat to my well-being. He invited me inside his home. His mother greeted me at the door, and that only made me feel more secure. I felt that I had sealed the deal with Johnnie. Why else would he take a stranger to his home? He escorted me upstairs to his living quarters where he had his master bedroom, and a brown plush leather sofa in the far right of the room. I took my seat on his sofa and watched him stretch out across his beautifully

  adorned California King bed. Johnnie was dressed in Gucci from head to toe.

  I sat there about another thirty minutes and listened as he continued

  to book shows back to back. His mother yelled upstairs that she was stepping out for a moment. A few minutes later, he hung up his phone, and asked me to give him a massage. I should have known then that something wasn’t right. But like a dummy, I fell into the trap. I began massaging his shoulders. Mind

  you, he was fully dressed, and so was I.

  The next thing I knew I was thrown down on the bed like yester-

  day’s laundry. Johnnie used the upper part of his body to pin me down on the bed, restraining me and preventing any movement. Johnnie was six feet tall and weighed nearly three hundred pounds. I couldn’t believe what was hap-

  pening. I was being raped. I cried out to Johnnie, begging him to stop.

  “Johnnie what are you doing? I’m on my period! Give me a couple

  of days, and I’ll come back!” I pleaded with him, but nothing worked. It was as if he had been possessed by something. His outer appearance changed. I felt absolutely helpless.

  Johnnie ripped off my jeans like they were a piece of paper. Then

  he stuck his finger inside of me, and yanked out my tampon. I thought for sure after seeing the bloody tampon he would’ve stopped. But he didn’t. He never thought to use a condom. He rammed himself inside of my bloody vagina while ignoring my pleas for him to stop. Biting me and pinning me down seemed to excite him only more. The more I hollered and screamed, the

  harder he pushed himself inside me.

  I was afraid. I had no clue if my life was going to end that day. I

  didn’t know what was going to happen next when he got through
handling his business. I couldn’t understand why he was doing this to me. This was Johnnie. He had money, and he could have had any girl in the city. What the

  f**k…?

  Being molested when you were a young helpless child, and being

  raped when you became a grown woman were two totally different things. There were two totally different effects on my mind and body. I was all grown up, I had paid my dues, and I didn’t have to answer to anyone. I worked or hustled for everything I had. I hadn’t asked anyone for spit. What gave John-

  nie the right to take something from me?

  When Johnnie got through, to my surprise, he rolled over and fell

  right asleep. I sat there for a moment. Astonished! I snapped back rather quickly, and grabbed my jeans. I left him lying there in the bed. I got in my car, and drove to the nearest gas station and called Phaedra. She answered on the first ring. This was only because I had changed my phone number since the last time we talked. She probably thought I was one of her clients. I was crying hysterically when I told her what happened. Phaedra knew Johnnie, and it sounded as if she was trying her best to comprehend what I had just told

  her. I asked, “Phaedra, what do I do?”

  “If he obviously raped you, well call the police!” She said. My mind

  started to spin. “Call me after you speak with the authorities,” she said.

  I hung up from Phaedra then I called the DeKalb County Police. The

  police responded within minutes. I was immediately taken to a hospital for a rape kit. Johnnie was woken up by the crime scene investigation unit (CSI). He hadn’t even bathed and was still lying in bed with the bloody tampon.

  Now that was just nasty.

  Of course, he told the police that the sex was consensual. The detec-

  tive already told me that he was going to do that. My biggest worry now was what type of disease he had given me. He didn’t even know me like that. He