Diary of a Young Girl

by Mark Anthony

  “Yes,” Tara replied.

  “Did you and Shayla ever mutually participate in any sexual acts together?”

  “Yes we did,” Tara replied as she stared directly at me.

  “Can you please tell me the specifics of that mutual sex act that you and Ms. Coleman participated in?”

  Tara smiled before she began talking. I just wanted to hop up outta my seat and charge that witness stand and slap the taste outta her mouth because I knew exactly where she was gonna go with her testimony.

  “Well, first of all, there was more than one occasion where Shayla and I participated in sexual acts together. But there is one time in particular that really stands out in my mind.”

  Tara paused. She sat up in her chair and moved forward a bit. Anyone in the room could see my face turn to anger and disgust. I leaned over and I whispered in Andrea’s ear and also into the assistant district attorney’s ear.

  “This is crazy because I know what she’s gonna say and I was stone drunk that night.”

  Andrea patted me on my leg and told me not to worry. “We prepared for this, remember?”

  Tara continued on: “Well, one night Shayla and myself and a few of our female friends had gone to a club to dance and party and have a good time. While we were at the club Shayla spotted a guy that was dancing and she told me that she was gonna get the guy to come back to my friend’s apartment to have sex with her.”

  “Did Shayla know the guy?”

  “No. He was just some guy, a random stranger.”

  “Well did this random guy, this stranger, if you will, that she picked up, did he in fact come back to your friend’s apartment?”

  “Yes he did.”

  “And what exactly happened at your friend’s apartment?”

  “Shayla proceeded to have sex with the guy in my friend’s bedroom while me and another female friend of mines watched.”

  “How much time had passed from the time Shayla had met this gentleman in the club until she was at your house having sex with him?”

  “No more than an hour and a half.”

  The defense attorney paused for dramatic effect. I was seething with anger. I just shook my head and I wanted to cry because I was feeling violated by the way he was painting me out to be.

  “An hour and a half?” the lawyer screamed. His voice echoed throughout the courtroom.

  “In an hour and a half Shayla Coleman meets some complete stranger in a night club, she takes him back to your friend’s apartment, and she has sex with him?”

  “Yes,” Tara replied.

  The lawyer paused again. “Did that random guy from the club wear any protection, any condoms?”

  “No,” Tara answered.

  You fucking bitch! I wanted to yell at her. Even if I hadn’t used any condoms that night, Tara knew damn good and well that I was way too drunk to even remember anything from that night, so how would I have known to tell the guy to put on a condom? She could have easily said that she wasn’t sure if condoms had been used. Or she could have mentioned that I was drunk out of my mind. She was being malicious and purposely trying to train-wreck my chances of success in the trial.

  “No condoms?” the lawyer shouted as he shook his head.

  Then the lawyer went on to ask Tara about Pink Chocolate and about her working there as a stripper. Tara confirmed everything. He then asked her had I worked at Pink Chocolate and Tara told him yes, that I had worked there as a bartender.

  “A bartender?” the lawyer said as he paused and then walked over to look at some papers that were on the defense table.

  “Yes, I had to double-check Shayla Coleman’s birthday. Shayla is not even twenty-one years old now, but yet, close to a year ago she was working at Pink Chocolate, an adult strip club as a bartender?”

  “Well, when she got the job she used a fake driver’s license in order to conceal her true age from the owners of Pink Chocolate,” Tara so eloquently explained.

  “I see,” the lawyer said. “Probably the same fake driver’s license that the police found on her possession on the night that Shayla Coleman alleges that she was raped.”

  Tara remained silent.

  The lawyer then went in and asked Tara a bunch of questions about that night that I had been raped. He had her confirm that I had been working at Pink Chocolate on that night, that I hadn’t been anywhere near Times Square like I originally had said to the cops. He had her confirm that I had lied and had her lie for me so that no one would know where I had really been coming from that night. He even had her tell how I had paid her 15,000 dollars for going through with the lie as planned.

  “Did Shayla tell you anything about being propositioned for sex by some of the male patrons at Pink Chocolate on the night that she alleges she was raped?”

  “Yes. She told me that she had been paid three hundred dollars by two men who had wanted her to leave the club with them so that they could have sex with her.”

  “Thank you, Tara.” No further questions, Your Honor.

  I sat there and just stared at Tara and I shook my head. I couldn’t believe how she had played me. But it was now her turn to be cross-examined by the assistant district attorney, a young, feisty white chick named Jessica.

  “Tara, on the night that Shayla supposedly meets some random guy at the club and takes him back to your friend’s apartment to have sex with him, had you been drinking that night?”

  “We all had been—”

  Jessica cut her off. “I asked you specifically, had you been drinking that night?”

  “Yes.”

  “How much did you drink?”

  “I don’t remember,” Tara said with an attitude.

  “What were you drinking that night?”

  “I don’t know,” Tara replied.

  “So you remember drinking but you don’t remember how much or what you were drinking? So how are you so clear on the sexual details that transpired between Shayla and this random guy?”

  “Because things like that don’t always happen, so you tend to remember those things more clearly.”

  Jessica nodded. “Well, do you remember Shayla drinking that night?”

  “Yes.”

  “Had she drank more than you?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “So with the alcohol consumption, your memory is fuzzy but with the sexual details you remember specifics?”

  Tara didn’t say anything.

  “Isn’t it true, Tara, that you and your other female friend did more than just watch Tara have sex with this random guy?”

  “No.”

  “No?” Jessica said with surprise in her voice. “You didn’t engage in any lesbian sex acts that night?”

  Tara looked a bit flustered and she twisted her lips and rolled her eyes, but she did say yes.

  “So is it possible that while you were engaging in this lesbian sexual act that you may have been distracted and missed the fact that condoms had been used between Shayla and the guy?”

  “I doubt it.”

  “Oh, you doubt it?” Jessica said. “I doubt it too. Because I believe that condoms were used.”

  Tara shrugged her shoulders.

  “What does that shoulder shrug mean? Is that a stripper dance or something?”

  “Your Honor, objection!” the defense lawyer yelled.

  The judge then told Jessica to watch it.

  “Now about the night that Shayla was raped. Well, actually before that. Didn’t you help her to get the job as a bartender by putting in a good word for her?”

  “Yes.”

  “And the two of you met when you were in high school. In fact, when you met, Shayla was only a freshman in high school and you yourself said that you were a few years older than her, so you had to know that she was too young to work as a bartender at that time.”

  “That’s not true,” Tara replied.

  Jessica just looked at Tara as if to say come on now.

  Then she added, “Did you leave Pink Chocolate with
Shayla on the night that she was raped?”

  “No.”

  “Do you know what time she left?”

  “No.”

  “Did she in fact tell you that she had initially agreed to have sex for money but that she ultimately changed her mind before fully going through with it?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Maybe? Either she did or she didn’t!” Jessica yelled.

  “Yes. Okay?”

  “No further questions, Your Honor.”

  At that point Tara was told that she could step down from the witness stand since the defense did not want to ask her any additional questions.

  Tara stepped off of the stand and as she walked to take her seat she mean-mugged me the entire time. I defiantly stared right back at her.

  The judge spoke up and he gave everyone in the courtroom some verbal instructions. I wasn’t paying close attention to what he was saying because it sounded like a bunch of legal mumbo jumbo that I wouldn’t have understood anyway.

  “You ready?” Andrea asked me. She broke me out of the trance that I had slipped into.

  “I’m ready,” I said, even though I had instantly become a ball of nerves.

  Before I knew it, I had been called to take the witness stand. I approached the stand wearing all white. I had on white pants and a white top with open toe shoes that had a small white heel.

  The courtroom was packed to standing room only and my heart pounded as I was giving my oath to tell the truth.

  As soon as I sat down in my chair I looked at my aunt and she touched her heart and then she pointed toward heaven. I nodded at her and then I focused my attention on Jessica. Jessica was very calm and she spoke in a hushed tone that was designed to keep me calm.

  Jessica asked me simple questions about myself, such as how old I was, what part of New York I was from, who I had grown up with, what I currently did for a living, what my future plans were as far as college and my career goals. I answered all of those questions with ease and I had gained my confidence being on the witness stand.

  Then Jessica started to get more into the heart of things and she began asking me more personal and relevant, meaty questions. Specifically, she asked me about Pink Chocolate and how and why I had come to work there.

  “I worked there basically to earn extra money. I knew it was only going to be a short-term thing because I was waiting on a large sum of money from my mother’s insurance policy and I just needed some money in the meantime to hold me over until my settlement check came.”

  “I understand,” Jessica said.

  “Did you ever have any aspirations of being a nude dancer or a stripper?”

  “None at all.”

  “Explain why you simply didn’t go to a Burger King or a McDonald’s for a job instead of seeking to work as a bartender at a strip club.”

  “Well, at the time Tara was my best friend and I guess it was her influence that sort of nudged me in that direction. Had I had friends who were working at a Burger King or at McDonald’s then I guess those would have been my influences and I probably would have chosen to work at those types of establishments. Looking back, I can definitely say that I wish I had chosen the fast-food route.”

  Jessica smiled at my comments. Then she asked me to recount exactly what had happened in terms of me being propositioned by the defendant Antonio Reid.

  I went on to explain that it was Antonio Reid’s friend who had propositioned me and that Antonio Reid had simply played the background in another part of the strip club. I told how his friend had paid me three hundred dollars and disguised it as if he were paying for expensive bottles of liquor. Then I told the courtroom how I had gotten really nervous and had second thoughts about going through with the whole thing and so I rushed out of the strip club as quickly as I could with plans of never coming back. I stopped speaking after I told the court how unfortunately my plans didn’t work out, because the defendant and his friend had gotten wind of my plan to ditch them and before I could get into my car they accosted me.

  “And after they accosted you, can you tell the jury what happened after that point?”

  I paused, not for dramatic effect or anything like that, but I just wanted to gather my thoughts and to make sure that I was ready to speak clearly and articulately so that everyone could finally publicly hear my side of what had happened.

  I went on to tell the jury step-by-step what had happened to me and how I was raped in the backseat of the Suburban truck. As I spoke tears came to my eyes. I could also see my aunt wiping away tears from her eyes.

  “And so you were dumped out of the Suburban and just left for dead until the police were notified and you were taken into the hospital.”

  “Yes, that’s correct.”

  “Shayla, please explain to the jury why you initially told the police that you were coming from Times Square, when in actuality you had really been coming from Pink Chocolate?”

  I turned my lips and sighed as I shook my head. I looked dead-on at the jury and I started to explain my reasons behind what I had done.

  At that point I began to cry as I explained to the jury that deep down inside I was trying to avoid disappointing my dad. I knew had my dad—or anyone else, for that matter—known that I had really been working at a strip club and that was where I was coming from that night, I knew that no one would believe my story about me being raped.

  “So tell the jury now, do you see the man who raped you that night?”

  “Yes,” I confidently said.

  “Can you point to him?”

  I extended my right arm and my index finger and I pointed to Antonio Reid, who was seated at the defense table in a dark blue double-breasted suit. He shook his head as I pointed at him.

  “You picked Antonio Reid out of a mug-shot book and out of a lineup, is that correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you as sure now as you were when you picked him out of that mug-shot book and that lineup that he is the man who raped you?”

  “Yes. I am one hundred percent sure!” I said with all kinds of confidence.

  “Thank you. No further questions, Your Honor.”

  I blew out a lot of air and I exhaled. I felt very good at that point about how I was coming across to the jurors. I looked at my aunt and she gave me the thumbs-up sign.

  The defense attorney then began to cross-examine me, and immediately I knew that his entire tone and demeanor was gonna be different than that of Jessica’s. He wasted no time and he came out swinging.

  “Shayla, how old were you when you lost your virginity?”

  “Objection! Your Honor, that is irrelevant,” Jessica stood up and shouted.

  “Objection overruled. Ms. Coleman, please answer the question.”

  I paused and my heart was pounding. I looked over at Andrea and she nodded her head up and down at me.

  “Well, when I was nine years old I—”

  The entire courtroom gasped. I didn’t even get a chance to finish my statement and explain the situation with my nanny.

  The judged banged his gavel and told everyone in the courtroom to please cooperate and to not make any noises.

  “Can you say that a little louder so that the jury can hear you?”

  “When I was nine years old I—” I spoke up and said. I could tell I was slipping into fight mode and I wanted to punch that lawyer in his mouth because he purposely cut me off and interrupted me and wouldn’t let me finish my statement.

  “Nine years old. Okay. So how many sexual partners have you had since that time?”

  “I don’t know,” I said with an attitude.

  “You don’t know because you lost count?” the lawyer asked me.

  “No, I don’t know because there was no need to keep a count.”

  “The last witness gave testimony that you had sex with a random guy that you met at a club and who you didn’t even know for two hours. Now is that a practice that you engage in regularly?”

  “No.”

  �
��No? Well, why on that particular night?”

  “Actually, I don’t even remember having sex with a random guy that night.”

  “Oh, you don’t remember. Is that similar to how you don’t remember how many sexual partners you’ve had? Ms. Coleman, come on. You’re not even nineteen years old and you can’t remember how many sexual partners you’ve had?”

  I didn’t say anything but a tear began to roll down my cheek.

  “Tell me about your father.”

  “What about him?” I said through my tears.

  “Well, for starters, is he here today in this courtroom?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Ask him! I don’t know!”

  “A few minutes ago you said you had knowingly lied to police so that you wouldn’t have to tell the truth and disappoint your father. It would seem to me that you are close to your father and that he would be here. So, are you close to your father?”

  “No.”

  “No?” the lawyer asked with a huge question mark.

  “No,” I said a second time.

  The lawyer shook his head. “So you were worried about disappointing your dad and you’re not even close to your dad? Shayla, there is a man sitting right there—Antonio Reid—he has a life and a bright future ahead of him, he’s engaged, he has two children, he has a good job, and your web of lies are turning this man’s life upside down!”

  “Objection—Your Honor, this is ridiculous,” Jessica vented.

  The judge told the lawyer to watch his statements and to keep his line of questions specific.

  “Do you want to have a good relationship with your father?”

  “Yes, I would like to.”

  “Did you think that by saying that you were raped that would bring your father closer to you and make your relationship with him better?”

  “No.”

  The lawyer paused and he stared at me. “You lied to get the job at Pink Chocolate, is that correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “You lied to the police and said that you had been assaulted and raped after leaving a Times Square movie theater, is that correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “You asked your friend Tara to lie to the police for you to make the story that you had given them sound believable. Is that correct?”