I am HER... (61 page)

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Authors: Sarah Ann Walker

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Mack promised me after he became my personal physician that I was allowed to boss him around.  I loved that conversation.  He looked at me like I was crazy, which I guess I
was
at the time, but regardless, he agreed.  I loved pointing out to him that as his Employer I could tell him to ‘Fuck off’ as needed, and sadly he couldn’t do anything about it.  Of course, Mack agreed, we both laughed, and I proceeded to tell him to fuck off the first chance I got.

 
It’s a very strange thing to have an Estate.  It was given to me by my grandfather, who crawled out of the woodwork when this all hit.  My grandfather, whom I hadn’t seen or spoke to in over 15 years, since my grandmother’s death actually, came to see me.

 
At the time, I was completely loopy.  I was often incoherent, and often so emotional, I couldn’t breathe from one moment to the next.  During that time, Mack continued to champion me, and intervene when necessary.

 
Upon learning of what happened, my grandfather was apparently so appalled at my parents’ behavior that he flew to my side immediately.  Apparently, my grandfather always knew my mother was
warped
(my word, not his), but he never thought for a moment that it extended to me, ‘their
innocent
daughter’, he said.

 
He and Mack had a long talk, a huge fight, and finally, my grandfather took Mack and the hospital to court.  I think he was trying to take me to some other hospital, but Mack fought him desperately to keep me where I was.  I don’t know the exact details, but I vaguely remember a side court battle happening between the two of them, with Mack and the hospital winning,
barely
.

 
Afterward, my grandfather, who I have seen twice since, and spoke to four times on the phone in the last three months, gave me my ‘Estate’.  I guess, the Estate was going to my mother, but due to the
circumstances
, it was quickly, and
legally
changed so that the bulk of the money went to me.  And strangely it’s mine
now
, as opposed to when my grandfather dies.

 
I often wonder if he gave me the money
now
because he felt guilty about his daughter’s behavior toward me- his granddaughter, or if he just wanted me to have it in case I needed the financial help.  Maybe it’s simply because I
am
his granddaughter and maybe he just loves me, though I doubt it most days.  I don’t think I’ll actually ever know the reason why, so I should just let that question rest.

 
There was another hearing issued because I was not ‘legally of sound mind’, and therefore, I had to have a ‘Legal Executor’ for my Estate.  Mack once again came forward.  And again, I was told by Kayla, Mack had to also battle another Conflict of Interest hearing, which he won,
by a hair
.

 
My grandfather apparently hated the thought of my doctor having all medically legal
and
financial control over me.  Inevitably, it was decided that a panel of three lawyers, subject to Mack’s approval, weigh in on my
financial
Estate.  Therefore, Mack has the final say on my mental health; but he does not have full control over my finances.  At that point, Marcus even came forward, but was quickly told to move on by my grandfather, which Marcus did, I found out later.

 
I guess if I didn’t trust Mack with my life, that all makes sense.  As it is, I could care less what Mack does or doesn’t do with my money.  He has proven himself to me time and time again.  Mack is singularly the only person who has never hurt me, even once, my entire life.

 
It’s all a little intimidating, but Mack has fought non-stop ‘to ensure I have my freedom’, as he put it to me one night.  I remember asking why he was even bothering with me, and he told me that he promised me he would never hurt me, and walking away from me would be tantamount to hurting me, but more importantly
,
because he likes me very much.  He even grinned and shrugged, and told me I was
‘a total pain in the ass’
, but ‘
totally worth
his time and effort’.

 
I remember balling my eyes out.  I wanted to tell him to stop.  I knew he was exhausted from dealing with me, and his other patients, and the legal proceedings, and the lawyers, and the Prosecutors, and an endless list of other things poor Mack had going on at the time.  I knew his life was spiraling out of control, even as he tried to help my life
gain
some control.  I know, because Mack looked exhausted though he would never say a word about it.

 
I remember begging him to let someone else help me, and he just sat beside me, took me into his arms, shrugged, and said “I won’t ever leave you to fight alone.  I’m here, like I promised I would be, and I’m staying.”

 
After the Estate was changed to make me the sole heir, I read in the New York Times newspaper that my mother was suing me, my grandfather, a group of lawyers she said
‘illegally’
had the Estate provisions changed, and finally the hospital, and Mack as well.

 
Under the circumstances
,
my mother was
advised
to drop the lawsuit because apparently it would bring too much bad publicity to her
other
legal matters.  And as a side note, she was also advised to drop her lawsuit because it would further victimize her poor,
‘mentally incapacitated’
daughter.

 
It’s so strange to read about yourself in the paper.  I remember reading eight stories about myself, in six different newspapers.  Apparently some of the people involved in my ‘bad stuff’ were quite unhappy with the turn of events, or rather, in being
caught
finally.  They were even more pissed that their precious
reputations and societal influence was diminishing.

 
Under Illinois State law, there is no Statute of Limitations on statutory rape.  And somehow the Prosecutors managed to take possession of a very incriminating Black school book filled with photographs from my parent’s library.  I’m not too sure of the
exact
contents of the book, but I have memories of some of it, so I know it’s pretty bad.  Subsequently 6 predominant
men from Chicago, two women, AND my
beloved
parents are being prosecuted by the State of Illinois.

 
I read that Mack and I were being threatened.  I read that Mack had had his home and office trashed.  To my horror, I read Mack had been assaulted outside the hospital one evening.  I finally learned the depth of all that was taking place outside my walls.  I learned of the threats and was scared to death, but not for myself...  I was
horrified
for Mack.

 
I was so frightened of Mack being hurt because of me, I screamed and cried to anyone who would listen.  I wanted a different doctor.  I wanted and quite fruitlessly
demanded
to be released.  I wanted them to let me go so no one at the hospital would be hurt because of me.  I tried everything I could, but eventually, I was just restrained and sedated.

 
It was when I awoke from the sedation that Mack sat beside me, took all my newspapers away, and told me I could ask him anything.  Mack promised to answer my questions truthfully but said that it was not in my best interest to read the hyped up, often misleading account of events from the newspapers...

  A
nd so I asked.  I asked him what the hell was happening outside my little room and Mack told me, truthfully, and in a completely straightforward non-hysterical manner, though
I
was quite hysterical at the time.

 
Mack told me that originally when the allegations were made by him against Dr. Simmons, no one believed Mack.  He was questioned repeatedly, and was nearly prosecuted himself for false accusations.  However someone leaked to the press what was being said about Simmons and after an article appeared in a Chicago Times, eight women came forward to talk about the abuse they suffered by Dr. Simmons hands, in
his
hospital.

 
One of the women was actually a girl I knew from elementary school, whose parents also hung out in the same circle of friends as my parents.  This coming forward by some of the other victims, prevented anything further from happening to Mack, and subsequently Dr. Simmons is in jail, without bail because he is a serious flight risk, while the Prosecution team formulate all their evidence. Simmons awaits his trial, which is to begin next year.

 
Next, I was told that though Mack and I, and I guess my parents, are aware that many more than six men were involved in my sexual abuse, the famous ‘black school book’ only
clearly
showed six men and two women’s faces.  The Prosecuting team however is still looking to identify more of the men based on physical traits, and markings or characteristics in the photographs.  I think they’re mostly waiting for me to remember more of the men,
specifically.

 
When I asked how they found the book, Mack said he wasn’t sure, but he WAS very happy about it.  Mack said it became a slam-dunk case against my parents because my mother is spotted in a few of the photos and my father’s handwriting is on the back of most of the photographs.  And because of all the evidence, my age at the time, and the content of the pictures; my parents are being prosecuted the hardest, with at least 30 felony charges apiece, with only the slimmest, most
unlikely
chance of acquittal for each.

 
Apparently, my mother is already trying to plea down her potential sentence, and is setting a rather different scene than
I
recall, against my father.  According to my mother, my father was an abusive monster who she feared every day of their married life.  Blah.  Blah.  I can’t wait to testify otherwise…

 
Not that I have to testify in court.  Mack and the lawyers worked out a kind of closed testimony where I get to tape my testimony in a different room with only the Judge, Mack, the lead Prosecutor, and the lead Defense attorney present.  There are always ways the Defense Team can make this closed testimony
not
happen as I’ve been warned by the Prosecution, but I just have to hope for the best.  The trial doesn’t begin until next year anyway.

 
I asked Mack if he knew why my parents did this to me, and sadly he had no explanation.  Mack admitted to me that my mother seems so indifferent toward me, that it’s like there is something missing in her personality.  Mack even suggested that she may have severe mental health issues as well, because of her complete lack of compassion and reaction to the events in question.  Mack hugged me and told me quite honestly that I would probably never know why she abused me, and that I should maybe just accept the fact that I would
never
know the answer.

 
Mack did offer to accompany me to the courthouse to speak with her, if she would permit it, but I decided not to even try.  I mean really, what the hell is she going to say that she hasn’t already?  My mother has made no secret of the fact that she hated me, so why listen to her say it once more.  I’m done.  I’ll never know
why
it happened, and it really doesn’t change
what
happened to me anyway.

 
I have heard however, and there are stories floating around about my parents trafficking in young girls, and there are other stories that suggest they were just singularly screwed up and evil toward me, only.

 
And of course, there are the few stories circulating that I am a total nut job head-case who made the whole story up for attention.  I’m almost positive my mother started
that
particular rumor.

 
After Mack and I sat and cried and talked about all this, Mack finally came clean and admitted that he has had a bodyguard stationed outside my door since the beginning, and that he himself had his own bodyguard for a few weeks.  He also admitted that he
was
in fact, attacked outside the hospital in an ‘attempted robbery’, and his house and office were also trashed and searched.  He admitted to being absolutely terrified something was going to happen to me at the time.

 
Mack then told me it was actually my grandfather who wielded his wealth and
significant
power and influence, as soon as he found out about the threats against me, (and Mack), and suddenly everything stopped.  There were no more threats from Dr. Simmons, (not that Mack or the Police could prove that) and there were no more threats from the wealthy Country Club set of Chicago proper. Everything just stopped.

 
Later Mack admitted he does still pay someone to watch me if and when he and I leave the hospital on our day trips…
just in case
.  The police agree with him, and apparently my grandfather
insists
upon this security measure, as a provision in my inheritance.

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