From the Other Side of Happiness V1 5 Chapters

From the Other Side of Happiness V1
By: Cassandra Bradley Jakes

Introduction
Waking up with tears in my eyes has become a daily thing and I continue to wonder why;
why I do I feel this way all the time? I am tired of waking up every day with butterflies in my
stomach or feelings that at times make me physically ill. I know there is something out there.
Something that will change my life, but I can’t find it, don't know what it is.
I am twenty-eight years old. I am a successful doctor. I think my life is going well, but
there is something missing, but what? I am single and I have no children, but I do dream of have
some, someday. As I look at the beautiful things that I have acquired I still feel empty inside. I
continue to long for something more. I have a beautiful four-bedroom home, with a large family
room and a nice fenced in yard. I have a Lexus parked in my three-car garage. Obviously, the
money is good and I'm living well. As I roll over to look out at the sunlight beaming over the
sparkling ocean my mind wants to wonder. Looking back, I know I have been through so much
pain in my life. Despite all of the negative events, I did what I needed to do. I have received the
one thing that I have been working towards for years, my medical license.
Opening the window to my bedroom deeply breathing in the fresh air I listened to the
chirping of the birds and the barking of dogs in the distance. I knew; I could feel that for some
reason they are happy. I want to feel that happiness. Why can’t I have that happiness for myself?
I don’t understand why when I do feel happy it doesn't last for long. I would always think of
something in my past and I would immediately loose the warm feeling of happiness. All my life,
deep inside, I have felt that I somehow suffered greatly and never understood why. Or was it
karma? I had begun to think that I was a bad person and that I was being punished. I don’t know
why, but for some reason I always question myself, and most of the time I could never find the
answers.

The day is warm; there is a soft breeze in the air and I decided to go for a walk on the
beach. Tears begin to run down my face as I remember what my life was like before the bad
things happened. Knowing not what the future held for me, I push forward to find out. I walked
alone on the quiet beach wishing if I'd look over there would be someone there, but there wasn't,
wanting to share my heart with another heart. Being a doctor is my life, since that was the only
thing that I thought was going well, I hold onto it and didn't won't to let go of it. I thought I was a
good doctor, but every day I tried to do something that I didn't do the day before.
I continue to try to be the best doctor I can be. That is my goal. I worked hard to get
where I am. Years of hard work and taking little time form myself kept me busy, kept my mind
busy. Pure exhaustion kept the depressing thoughts away, but those long hard hours took a toll
on me physically. Because I was a doctor, I re-evaluated my circumstances and decided it was
time to take some time for me. In a way it is a good thing; taking time off of work gave me time
to think about my life. I could take time to find ways to make it better. I always want to
improve things for myself. This is important to me.
Like most children, my parents always wanted what was best for me. They were there to
protect me and that was what they did. Not wanting any harm to come to me, pushing me to the
limit and beyond. They always told me if I worked hard enough, I would get it. I have my
mindset on many things, set goals, but my main goal was and is, I want my career to be a
success.
I continue to try and forget the past, but I can’t. My past always seems to come creeping
back and always at the wrong time. The things happened and I can't go back to fix, so I try to
make the best of my present. I have come so far and I don't want to mess up what I've

accomplished. I have so much hurt built up deep within my heart and I don't know how to release
it. I am afraid, afraid that if I do find a way to release the pain it will be ugly.
My mind wants to wander so I allow it too. I want to see where my thoughts take me
today…hopefully, somewhere beautiful, where I can find peace and happiness.

CHAPTER l
The one thing that I never found difficult was getting through my day at school. I was on
the honor roll throughout all twelve years. In high school I met a girl named Sharon. Sharon was
different like me. We became known as “The Slim Jim's.” We became inseparable after just
two short weeks. To this day I still don't know why, but I believe that it was because we have so
much in common. We shared everything; there were no secrets between us. Sharon was a great
person. She is a true friend. Whenever I needed her she was there for me, Sharon helped me
become a better person. When I felt defeated and wanted to just give up, she would not allow
me to. Sharon would push me; she would help me see something better for myself. Sometimes I
would get off track. I would start going after the wrong things, but Sharon would lead me back
and get me back on the right path. Many times people would assume we were sisters. We were
not sisters by blood; we were sister by love.
Sharon was a person that had a good head on her shoulders. I remember the first time we
met she didn't like me, but eventually I grew on her. She thought I was loud and that I acted like
clown too often. I was sent to the office frequently, but I was always remained on track with my
class work, but like she said I was the class clown in high school.
We became close very quickly and our classmates thought it was weird, but Sharon and I
didn't care. We decided to take our relationship outside of school. We exchanged numbers and
called each other every day. We told each other everything about our lives and what we shared
what we wanted in the future. We planned to get married together have our children together and
we would become each other children’s Godparents.
I remember the summer when I was asked to go to with Sharon’s family to Walt Disney
World in Florida for their family reunion. I will never forget that trip. We were there for twelve

days and even though it rained most of the time we found fun activities to keep us occupied; it
was the vacation of a lifetime.
Sharon and I had our differences, but we got through them. Sometimes our fights were so
heated I don't know how we stayed friends. We would stay up for hours and talk through our
problems. We swore we would always stick together. On June 10th, it came time to graduate
from the place 1 had been for four years. From that day on I ready to hang with the “Big Dogs,”
the college boys. I made my parents proud that day. They both attended the ceremony. They
both came to see me walk across the stage to receive my diploma. As they called my name to
walk across the stage, I felt the flutter of butterflies in my stomach. Upon receiving my diploma I
held on tightly to it and with tears in my eyes I looked out into the audience at my family. I
thought to myself, I am getting closer, but still have a long way to go. It was at that moment
when I knew I was on my way to success. When I went outside the school I hoped that my
parents would be there, but they weren't. My parents were not the type of people that would hang
around in big crowds.
The night of our graduation, Sharon and some of her cousins that graduated with us
decided to opt for a night on the town. We were all supposed to go with us downtown to the
Canaille and have dinner. I called my parents and reminded them of my plans. Then they told
me to be home by 9:00 or 10:00 o'clock at the latest. The fact that they wanted me home so early
upset me. I mean what was the point of going out if I had to be home three hours after my
graduation? I knew that my parents were overprotective and I could even understand why they
were, but I was an adult now and I felt they needed to let me spread my wings. I really didn't
want to go, but Sharon convinced me to go. She really wanted to spend the time with me; even if
was for just a few short hours. I went, and I tried to make the best of it, I tried to fit in, but I

couldn't. I really didn’t have much fun. I was heading home from downtown and I felt as if I
were a needle in a haystack; I was the needle; downtown was the haystack.
Finding my way home was definitely going to be a challenge. I didn't go downtown that
much because I wasn't familiar with the area. I arrived home around 11:00 o’clock,
coincidentally the time I wanted to come home anyway. When I finally arrived home I expected
my parents meet me at the door. They usually wait up until I get home to lock up. I expected
them to be concerned because I was so late. I would have to explain to them that I got lost and
ended up on the south side of town, not east side. Maybe they would be sympathetic because I
cried all the way home because I was scared and upset because I didn't know where I was.
The door was locked; they weren't even worried about me. I was so upset. I should have
known to go straight home instead of taking a walk. If I would have done what I was supposed
to have done, I would have never gotten lost. That night I cried myself to sleep. I had the worst
night of my life; forever casting a dark shadow on what should have been one of the most
important days of my life. All night I lay in bed wondering what was worse, having a curfew or
getting lost?
Thinking back on all the events in my life I realized that I had a lot of hard work ahead of
me and I had to get myself together if I was going to do it. I was going to start college in the fall
and there were so many things that needed to be done. I procrastinated at times. I continually
put off doing some very important things. I hated to admit it to myself, but I had become quite
proficient at putting many, many things off until the last minute and that was not going to work
anymore. If I planned to be successful in my future, I needed to get it together and fast. My
parents always pushed me. They kept me on track and motivated to do the things that I need to

do. I give them full credit for standing behind me, encouraging me, pushing me towards what I
was working towards because they knew I was capable of accomplishing it.
At a young age I always wanted to be an OBGYN. I was someone who always wanted to
help others. I studied hard and I stayed focused on school, but the other things in my life I
struggled with. I was so focused on school that I was all I cared about; the rest of my life, I rarely
gave a second thought.
I had a pretty rough life growing up. I guess it was when I was raped at a party that I
stopped caring. My best friend, Sharon, and I were asked to “the summer party” by some of the
more popular guys at school. That party was being held at one of the guy's house. His parents
were rich and out of town for the weekend. I didn't ask my parents’ permission to go because I
knew what the answer would be no. I told my parents that I was going to be over a friend’s
house and that I wouldn't be home to late that night. After leaving the house with my book bag
in hand with a change of clothes inside, I was off to Sharon’s to get ready for the party.
Sharon and I arrived at the party around nine o'clock. There were a lot of people there;
some were college students and some from other schools. There were all kinds of alcoholic
drinks there too. I was taught from a very young age that drinking was wrong so I had never had
the opportunity or the desire to drink liquor before.
I looked across the room and made eye contact with a tall, very handsome guy. I quickly
looked away. Moments later I glanced back to take another look and he was gone. I felt someone
behind me, I turned around and there he was, right behind me. With a brilliant smile and a
comforting voice
“Hello, I'm Luke and you are?” "I'm Calisioi".

It was so loud downstairs with all the music so Luke asked to go upstairs to talk so we
could get to know each other. I was so overwhelmed by his looks and deep voice I couldn’t
resist, I walked upstairs with him.
Luke and I quietly entered one of the bedrooms. Luke sat on the bed and patted the spot
next to him and asked me to sit with him. After several minutes of uncomfortable silence, we
began to talk. A few minutes later, we ran out of small talk. Since neither one of us really knew
what to really talk about it became awkwardly quiet and we just looked at each other. He slowly
leaned towards me. I closed my eyes and he gently kissed me. He looked softly into my eyes and
I gave him a shy smile. He placed his hand on the side of my head, tangling his fingers in my
hair. He gently drew me close and we kissed again. Then he put his hand on my leg. Startled, I
jumped.
"It's ok".
What seemed for hours, we continued to kiss. My head was swimming and then for some
reason I pulled away.
“Stop.”
"What’s wrong?”
In a shaky voice I told him that we shouldn't be doing this.
“Why, it was ok that it was just kissing.”
He looked disappointed and said in a louder voice
"It's just kissing.”
I felt uneasy and told him that we should go back downstairs. I slowly got up to leave the
room and he grabbed me. It was like a nightmare and the next thing I knew he was throwing me
down on the bed. I screamed for Sharon, but with the loud music going on she couldn't hear me.

He ripped my shirt open. I could feel hands and lips all over my body. I felt sick. I was
terrified. I was a virgin; I didn’t know what to think or what to do. I just kept screaming, but no
one could hear me. I'm screaming no, but it did not faze him. I never once believed that
something like this could ever happen to me, but it was happening; I was being raped. I tried to
fight him off, but he was a big guy and my efforts were failing. The kissing and touching wasn't
enough for him. He forced my legs apart and what came next I would not wish it on anyone. The
pain of him going inside me was nothing I had ever felt before. It felt as if I was being ripped
inside. My screams got louder and louder. With his one free hand he covered my mouth. I could
feel the tears running down my cheeks. I have never cried that much before. Since my virginity
was lost in such a violent way there was no use of fighting him. Exhausted, I stopped screaming
and moving. I just lay there with my eyes closed; silent tears flowing from my eyes. All I could
do was lay there and with I could just wake up from this nightmare. I want it to just be over.
I felt like a weight was lifting off of me; he was getting off of me. I was so scared I kept
my eyes closed. I did not want to see his face. I knew I would have nightmares about this night
for the rest of my life. It was quiet in the room. I slowly opened my eyes. The tears clouded my
vision, but I could still see him through the tears. I look directly at him, sobbing.
"Why?"
Pulling up his pants he said,
"You fought the others just took it and don’t bother telling anyone they won't believe
you".
Tears still rolling down my cheeks I could feel the guilt, the hurt, and the fear. I felt so
dirty, so filthy; I knew these feelings would always be with me. He walked out of the room,
never looking back and I never saw him again. I felt so much shame as I walked out the room. I

felt as everyone was looking at me; judging me. I knew that I had to tell someone, but whom?
Would they believe me? Or even understand? I wondered if people knew if they would accept
me for who I am or will they treat me differently?
Standing at the top of the stairs, I finally got myself together to go and find Sharon. I
finally found her and told her what had happened. She said that she was going to take me to the
hospital. I didn't want to go; I was already humiliated but she insisted that I go. Sharon
explained that I could be hurt or has a sexual transmitted disease. I sobbed all the way to the
hospital. She tried to talk to me to make me feel better. I couldn’t hear anything she was saying,
because my personal nightmare continued to play over and over in my mind. I wanted it to stop.
I tried to make it stop, but it wouldn't. It was like a tape that wouldn't stop playing and there was
no way of stopping it.
The OBGYN that was on that shift came into my room to examine me. After everything
that had happened I didn't want to be touched by anyone. Sharon took my hand and gently told
me that I had to get the examination. She nervously told me that my parents were on their way
to the hospital. The doctor asked Sharon to step out said so she could talk to me. Sharon to me
that she would be right outside if I needed anything; she gave my hand a quick squeeze before
leaving the room. The doctor asked,
“Do you want to tell me what happened?”
“No.”
The doctor assured me that everything would be fine. I thought to myself, nothing would
ever be fine again. I heard the doctor say
“Ok, I'm going to tell you everything that I'm going to do before
I do it so you want be scared.”

I thought to myself “I want to go to school to be an OBGYN.”
The doctor spoke in a quiet voice and said
“You’re doing good, this going to hurt a little, but hang in there.”
Just as the examination was over my mom came in to the room, with tears in my eyes she
held me and told me that everything was going to be ok and that we would find the guy
responsible. At that time 1 didn't care I just wanted to go home and forget what had happened. It
was a long ride home from the hospital I didn't say much; at this time, I didn't really know what
to say to my parents and I don’t think they knew what to say to me. I wasn’t sure what they were
thinking; did they think that it was all my fault? After getting home I really wanted to talk about
it, but I wasn’t sure how. I didn't know what to say or even where to start. That night was the
roughest night I had ever had. I didn't sleep well. I tossed and turned all night long thinking
what had happened. I replayed the events of the night over and over again wondering what I
could have done differently. What could I have done to make him stop? Should I have fought
harder? What would have happened if I fought harder? Would he have gotten even more
violent? I didn't tell the doctor very much. I was too scared to say much of anything. The
doctor just completed the examination and told me that physically I was going to be fine.
The doctor gave me some medication to take that would help me sleep. My mom checked
in on me to make sure that I was ok and didn't need anything. I wanted to tell her that I wasn't ok
and that I wanted to talk about it, but I guess I had to much pride maybe or it was fear. Fear that
I had built up deep inside me and I didn't know how to release it. Even though I know that
hating anybody is wrong, I couldn’t help it. I felt so much hatred for him at this point. I had so
many questions, but no answers. I was trying so hard to find the answers to the questions, but
was unable to.

The medication that the doctors gave me wasn't helping, so I just lay in the dark thinking
of what happened. I tried not to think of it too much because thinking of it too much only makes
me feel worse. The hurt, shame and how filthy I felt, I was thinking that these feelings would
never go away. I would never feel better again. I felt that I was marked for life. I thought and
thought; there had to be something to make this better. The way that I could even begin to make
it better is to tell someone. Then those words came back to haunt me; I remembered what he told
me, “if you tell anyone they wouldn't believe you.”
Should I tell who did this to me? If I tell anyone who he was will it come back on me?
Would everyone blame me? Would they wonder why was I there in the first place? Or why I
went upstairs with him? Why did I go anywhere alone with a stranger? All these questions and
more were coming swimming in my mind; I was unable to answer. I tried to thinking that I
finding answers would make me feel better. I tried to close my eyes, but when I did all I could
see was his face. Even after I took bath after bath and I could still smell him, feel his hands and
lips touching my body; his breathe on my skin. I still felt dirty. I continued to wonder why he
did what he did, but I figure it was just evil sickness and he couldn't help himself. Why should I
pity him? He was the one who hurt me.
Several days went by when I didn't want to get out of bed. I lost days just sleeping.
When I was sleeping I wasn’t thinking. It was the only way I knew to cope. I wanted to talk
about it but I couldn't talk about it. I slept all day because I was up at night. Too scared to sleep
and too scared to even close my eyes because I knew what I would see behind my eyelids. The
times I tried to sleep at night the nightmares came. I can't seem to find any way to get a good
night’s rest.

One night I was up late in the kitchen drinking a cup hot chocolate when my mother came
downstairs because the light was on.
She sat down and asked,
“Are you ok?”
“Yes,”
I couldn't sleep and I thought hot chocolate sounded good. She started to go back to bed
when she stopped and turned around and said
“Are you sure you’re ok?”
“I'm sure.”
Then she looked me straight in the eyes and silent tears began to roll down my face;
“I'm not ok.”
“Do you want to talk about what happened?”
“Yes,”
She sat down at the table
“Let’s talk about it.”
I began telling her what took place, and then I started to apologize for going to the party
without their permission. If my parents had known that I was going to a party, they would have
told me no and this never would have happened to me. I told her what he did to me. My mom
held my hand
“Everything was going to be all right and that we will get through it” together.
Mom told me that we were not going to let what he'd done ruin my life or my future.
She asked, “Do you know the boy who raped you?”
“Yes.”

“Then we can go to the police to file charges against him.”
Because Sharon had made me go to the doctor there is the evidence that they needed to
make a case against him. I calmly said,
“No.” I explained to her that I wanted to forget what happened. I asked if she could
help me forget. She said that he would do it again to someone else. I thought for a minute, but I
said, “I just want to get on with my life.”
I felt relieved after telling my mom. I didn't have that heaviness anymore. I felt better
knowing that she knew what happened. I told my mom that I felt better now that she knew, but
after tonight I didn't want the event to be brought up again.
“That’s your decision.”
She said that I was old enough to decide what to do and that will support me in whatever
I chose to do. My mom went on to say
“If you change your mind just let me know.”
She then stood up and came around the table kissed me on my forehead, told me if I
needed her to come and get her. She went to go to back bed as she looked at me she smiled and I
returned her smiled a smile of relief. That night begun a new chapter in my life, I started to sleep
better, but I was still too scared to go anywhere.
College was to start in two months and all the packing and preparations kept me busy.
With all that was taking place my dad didn't say much to me. I thought he was mad at me or
maybe even disappointed. When my dad and I were alone I don’t think he knew what to say to
me. He didn’t know how to approach me. I just want him to see that I was still that little girl
he's always known and respected. Deep within my heart I knew he still loved me, but he was just
hurt. Many times wished the rape never happened. After a while I stopped wishing because in

reality it happened and there was nothing I or anyone else could do to change it. I had to learn to
deal and live with it. I had to be able to work and go to school. I often found myself thinking
back on that night and all the things that could have done to prevent it from happening. It has
been a learning experience. I know what to do and what not to do, but when it comes to people,
I’m lost, I just don't know. Since that night I've learned to keep my guard of and to never let it
down; because when you do that is when something unbelievable is going to happen. I thought it
was my fault and that I put myself in that situation, but after being told that I didn't ask to be
raped and that no one does, I now know that it is not my fault.
It doesn't matter what other people think it's what you think of yourself that matters.
Now that I know it wasn't my fault; I know that I was the victim. I didn't ask to be raped, but
since it did I have to get through it, I will learn from it. With the love and support from my
family I will get through it.
Chapter 2
As I lie in my bed I listened to the rain as it gently hit the rooftop. Quietly I wondered if
the emptiness that I feel deep inside would ever be filled. And if it is, what it will feel like? Not
wanting to get out of bed I just lie there and let my mind wonder. Slowly opening my eyes, I
looked up at my wall and there a copy of my Medical License came clearly into view. Looking
at this framed document of my accomplishment made me think of all the things that pushed me
to finish college. The long-standing wish of being an obstetrician gynecologist has remained
strong through all the years. Nothing but that long held desire excited me in the way that this
one dream did. Thinking back on all the tiny little lives that I helped bring into the world gave

me a sense of awe, pride and peace. Then I thought of the day that I discover that I was pregnant.
I thought after the rape my life couldn't get any worse, but now I know I was wrong.
Two months had passed since the rape and college had finally started. College was so
very different from high school; if you didn't stay focused on your studies it was very easy to fall
behind. I was doing my best to remain focused on nothing but school, but it was very difficult.
The memories of the rape kept sneaking daily into my thoughts. The reoccurring nightmares
didn't help my ability to remain focused. I pushed through each day, giving my classes my
absolute best despite my inner turmoil.
I awoke one night to sharp pains in my lower stomach; I brushed the pain aside and
pressed on through my classes later that day. That night the pains subsided and by morning they
were gone. For nearly a week, I led a normal life, as I was able and continued to attend my
classes. On one particular morning it was like a bombshell went off. The cramps came back.
This time they were a lot worse and I was unable to attend classes that day. The sharp pain
continued throughout the morning and I began to get nervous. The pain was becoming
unbearable so I decided to go to the campus nurse.
Sitting with the nurse I nervously began telling her how I was feeling. She began to ask
me about my medical history trying to determine what the problem was. She then began to ask
me the common questions any nurse or doctor would ask; was I under stress, what was the last
thing I had eaten and of course when my last period was. I paused, looked nervously down at the
floor and didn't say anything. I never kept track of my period; what was the point; I wasn't
having sex. I told her that I didn't remember; then she asked me if I was sexually active and I told
her no. After a few moments I decided to tell her about the rape and that was the closest I had
come to sex, that is if that is what you would call sex. She looked at me with empathy in her

eyes. She then asked if I wanted pregnancy test. At this time, I wasn't scared; I didn’t think
pregnancy was possible, so I told her yes. I took the test and she gave me some seven-up to drink
and told me to go back to my dorm and lie down and rest. She would let me know when she had
the results.
I went back to my room. She had given me a pass to get out of class for a day or two.
With all this time on my hands I could not help but think that I may be pregnant. That is when I
began to get nervous and then scared, not just scared; terrified. I didn't want a baby right now;
especially a baby conceived through rape. I wasn't married, I was still in college, and I had no
job. All these thoughts were swirling around in my mind. I was only seventeen, my life had
barely begun. I was just a freshman in college and very possibly going to be a mother. This is
not what I wanted; I’m not ready for this. I am not much more than a child myself. What am I
going to do with a child? The biggest question of all, how was I going to tell my parents? How
would they take the news? Oh and what will people think?
After taking it easy for the better part of the day I started to feel better so I went to my
last class of the day. I was trying so hard not to think about the fact that I may be pregnant, but it
was all that I thought about. I wanted to know the answer and I prayed it would be negative. I felt
that I had been through enough and all I wanted my life back. A call came in over the intercom
system that I was needed in the nurse’s office as soon as possible. I knew that the results were
in.
It was a long walk down the corridor to the nurse’s office; almost like in the movies. The
corridor stretched on forever and it seemed there was not end. Every step I took made me sick to
my stomach; I thought I was going to pass out or vomit. As I walked in she told me to have a

seat. The look on her face was all I needed; I had my answer. The answer I didn't want. I took a
slow deep breath. She looked at me with sympathetic eyes and said gently
“You're pregnant.”
My heart started to beat faster, I swear the room began to spin, I couldn't breathe, I felt
numb all over and then the tears, made slow and silent tracks down my face. She then handed
me some tissues and a pamphlet. The pamphlet explained to me about early stages of pregnancy
as well as listing my alternatives; options on what I could do with the baby. I could have the
baby and raise it as best as I could, give it up for an adoption or have an abortion. I shuttered
even thinking the word; abortion was out of the question. I didn't' believe in abortion, no matter
what the circumstances. It didn't matter how the baby was conceived I wasn't going to kill it; I
wasn't that kind of person.
I walked out and somehow made it to my dorm room. I had to lie down. My head was
heavy and my heart was pounding. Since I had a room all to myself I cried; trying to let out as
much pain as I could, hoping it will help make me feel better. I slowly sat up, head in my hands,
I thought to myself, I have to go tell my parents. This pregnancy was something that could
easily ruin my life. I bought a bus ticket home; my school wasn't far from where I lived, but it
still took two hours to get home. Over and over in my head I played what I was going to tell my
parents and how I was going to say it.
My sister picked me up from the bus station. On the way home we barely talked. When I
walked in the house my parents were really surprised to see me. I would usually call before I
came home and let them know how long I would be staying, but this time it was different. I knew
they knew something was wrong. With silent tears running down my cheeks I sat down. Even

though I had rehearsed this moment over and over in my mind over the last two hours I didn't
know how to tell them. Before I knew it I just said it;
“I'm pregnant.”
The silence was deafening and then I could see the tears begin to run down my dad's face;
he knew I was just a kid. We all just sat looking at one another. We were all wondering the same
thing; what was next? I wanted to talk, but I couldn’t. The lump in my throat was so big I could
barely breath and my mouth wouldn't move. My dad got up out of his chair and just looked at
me then silently went into his office. Through tear filled eyes I looked at my mom. She assured
me that he loved me, but he didn't know how to talk to me or what to think right now. She
wanted me to know that he knew it wasn't my fault.
He has always wanted what was best for me; they both of did. My mother took me into
her arms and held me as I cried. Shortly after she began to cry with me; we tried talking about
what we were going to do. I pulled away for a moment and told her that I didn't want to have an
abortion. She looked at me with love in her eyes and said of course not; we don’t believe in
abortion. As a family, we would either keep the baby or to give it of for an adoption. But the
final choice was mine alone to make. If we decided to give it up for an adoption, we would be
very selective finding a loving couple that would love a child regardless of how it was conceived
because all they want is a child of their own. If we decided to keep the baby, we would know
and understand that it was going to be difficult. Raising a child is not an easy thing to do;
especially under this type of circumstance. Mom assured me that as my family they would love
and support me in whatever I chose to do. Mom told me that we are a family that sticks together
always.

I stayed for the weekend. All too soon it was time to go back to school. I didn’t want to
go back quite yet, but I didn't want to fall too far behind. I forced myself to go back to school. I
tried not to think about the fact that I was going to become a mother at eighteen, but I couldn't
help it. Even with the nearly continual stomach pains and morning sickness I still tried to go to
class, but there were some days that I just felt so awful that I would miss an entire day of classes.
Other days I would struggle to make up the work that I had missed as well as remaining current
with the rest of my assignments.
It was really difficult to remain focused. Continual thoughts of the rapes were intruding
in my mind and now that fact that I was going to be a mother because of that rape, those thoughts
were almost unbearable. This is not the way I wanted to conceive my children. I had to come
back to reality. I had to accept the fact that this is the way it is going to be and I'd better get use
to it. It was surreal to knowing that I was going to have a baby, but something in my mind
wouldn't let me accept it. Four months into my pregnancy I started to experience stomach pains
on a daily basis so I was back and forth to the doctor frequently.
The doctors told me that I had nothing to worry about. I was up one-night studying and
my stomach started to cramp so badly, when I stood up to go to the restroom I felt something
running down my leg I thought that my water had broken. I looked down and it was blood. I
rushed myself to the hospital and that is when the doctors told me that I had miscarried. I carried
the baby as long as I could and there was no reason why I lost my baby, but I did. On the outside
I was holding it together I didn’t want them to see me cry. Even though I couldn't show any
tears, I was crying inside. I was sad and yet I was relived. I wasn't going to become a mother
while I was still a child. This was my chance and I was taking back my life. I wanted to be a

success and I would do anything to make sure of that. I have to study hard and put forth
tremendous effort to get what was important to me, my medical degree.
I thought it was wrong that I didn't have any emotions about the losing the baby. I wanted
kids, but not that way. Was it wrong to feel relived or was losing the baby going to hit me later?
I tried not to continually think about how I was supposed to feel. I just tried to push all thoughts
of the baby out of my head. I was so confused about how I should feel. I had lost my baby and I
didn’t think I was reacting like I was supposing to. I went through a lot after the miscarriage; it
seemed that my body and mind wanted to shut down. I started waking up screaming with
nightmares. I stopped eating, lost weight among other things. I fell way behind in my studies.
The two weeks I was off from school gave me time to think, not that I wanted to think, but with
nothing but time I had no choice but to think. I wanted to put what happened to me behind me,
but I didn't know how. I also began to think that I wasn't strong enough to push forward with my
life and future. It was at that moment I made a conscious decision; I decided that I had to put
forth every possible effort to get the one thing I wanted more than anything else, my medical
degree.
As I continued to attend college I started to get on with my life. I was behind in my
classes, but after a great deal of time and effort I was caught up. I stayed focused on my
schoolwork because I really wanted this in my life. I found a part time job in a local hospital
working with newborns. I was excited for what I was going to do with my life. I was making a
little bit of money and I was on my way to become a doctor. It was hard work, but with my
abilities I was sure I was going to go far. The first two years in to school were hard, but I
continued to believe it would get better and it did. I was on the dean's list and I had boyfriend.
Things were finally looking up for me.

I was in the library doing a book report for one of my classes. I was sitting at a table in
the back of the library minding my own business when I look up a guy was looking at me. I tried
to ignore him. Thinking to myself, I was in this situation once before and look where it got me.
I watched him from the corner of my eye come over to the table. I continued to try and ignore
him, but then he spoke. He asked if he could sit down. I pretended to continue to read my book.
He asked again if he could sit down. Without looking up from my book I said no. Without
missing a beat, I made it a point by saying,
“You were already sitting down over there why did you get up to come over here?”
He just said,
“I just want to sit down.”
Without acknowledging him I looked up to see if there were any empty seats. I rudely
stated that there are other empty seats, go sit in one of those. He replied with slight sarcasm
“I’d rather sit with you.”
When he sat down and I gathered my things got up and left.
I really didn’t intend on being that rude, but I guess I was. My past experiences had
made me nervous and didn't know how to act around men. I still had a lot of fear. I didn’t think
that I could trust men; I didn't have a reason to trust any man.
I went on with my classes and I thought of him no more. I went back to the library the
next day and he was there. I felt bad for what I had treated him the day before; I walked up to
him and told him I'm sorry that I had been so rude. I explained that I am normally not that way; I
was behind in my classes and I have some catching up to do. He was very polite. He told me
that he understood and there were no hard feelings. I shyly smiled, turned around and left. I sat
down at a desk and began to study. He got up and came over and asked if he could sit down.

“No.”
I looked up and asked,
“Why do you want to sit next to me? “
He replied,
“I just want your company and it would be nice to get to know each other.”
I looked around and saw other people around that made me feel safe so I said yes.
We started to talk.
“What’s your name?”
“Marcus and yours?”
“Calisioi.”
“What are you studying?”
“Medicine.”
I asked him what he was studying.
“Law.”
“What kind of doctor do you want to become?”
“OBGYN”
“What kind of lawyer would you like to be?”
“A criminal lawyer.”
“Why?”
“I think that we should keep criminals behind bars.”
As we sat and made small talk, the lights begin to go out one by one and that is when we
noticed that the library was closing. We had talked all that day and most of the evening and
simply lost track of time.

He politely asked,
“Can I walk you to your dorm?”
“No thanks I have somewhere else to go.”
“Okay, be careful, till next time.”
“Is there going to be a next time.
“If you want there to be a next time, give me your hand.”
I gave him my hand and he wrote his number in the palm of my hand. If you get bored
and want to have another long conversation, call me. He wished me luck with my studies and I
wished him the same, he shook my hand and walked away. That was the first time in a long time
that I was happy and relaxed around a man.
The weekend came and I decided to look for a part time job, I went to a nearby hospital
not too far from the campus, because I saw a job listing on a telephone pole for a position in the
OBGYN department. I knew a job like this would give me a foot in the door and the hands on
experience I needed for my degree, so I went and filled out an application. A week later they
called me and told me that I was hired. I was shocked; they hadn’t even interviewed me. When
I asked why, they told me I was a great candidate since I was going to school for that position.
They were able to work around my class schedule and any other appointment that may come up.
The work was hard at first. I had to learn the ropes and their way of running things. Being
around sick women and babies was heartbreaking, but knowing that I could do something to help
them made my job easier. I learned a lot of things while working there and it gave me an idea of
what I would be doing in the future.

Chapter 3
Everything in my life was going great. I was finally happy and best of all, more relaxed.
As I was walking to class one day talking to Marcus on my cell I noticed something different.
This is the same route that I take every day, but today an all too familiar face walked passed me
that made me stop dead in my tracks; it felt as if my heart stopped and I couldn’t breathe. I took
a breath and quickly turned around to confirm my suspicions, but in the brief moment he was
gone. I shook the encounter off, thinking my mind was playing tricks on me, and went to class.
All day I thought about the face that I thought I saw, and I just couldn't get the image out of my
mind. Marcus didn't know about the rape because I didn't know how he would react. I feared he
would think I was dirty or even worse, that I asked for it. The biggest reason is the fact I thought
that I was falling for him.
The weekend came and my mind wandered once again to the guy I thought I saw. The
following Monday, as usual, I was talking to Marcus on my cell phone on my way to class, when
I saw him again. I instantly stopped talking; an eerie feeling washed over me and I felt this sick
feeling growing in the pit of my stomach.
"Hi Calisioi"
As he walked pass me. I stopped and turned around hoping he would be gone, but he
wasn't. He kept walking.
"Luke!"
I yelled, he turned around grinned, then turned and kept right on walking.
Tears began to roll uncontrollably down my face as I ran to back to my dorm room. The
sick feeling was washing over me I knew I would be sick. Barely making it to the rest room I fell
to my knees and everything just came up. The last thing I was worried about was the mess; I

would clean it up later. I was splashing water on my face when I heard a firm knock at the door; I
didn't want to answer, half afraid of who was on the other side. I gathered what courage I had
and opened the door. When I opened the door to find Marcus I let out a sigh of relief.
"Are you ok?”
Marcus asked quietly.
“You hung up on me and when I called you back you didn't answer, I got worried".
I really wanted to tell him what happened to me in high school. I wanted to tell him that
the man who violated me was here; my rapist is on campus. Once again, the fear of what he
might think stopped me. I told him I wasn't feeling good and I just wanted to lie down. He
decided to stay with me for a while till I felt better, but little did he know, I would never ever feel
better again.
I looked sleepily at Marcus, thinking if only I could tell him maybe he would understand
why I was acting the way that I was. If only I didn't have all this fear, maybe things would be
better. I started missing a lot of my classes and the worst part was, I was now failing. Having to
go to the same school that my rapist did was my personal nightmare. I was beginning to shut
down once again. Poor Marcus didn't know what to do. To be honest, neither did I. He didn't
know why I was acting the way I was. I thought about talking to him, but I didn't want to lose
that special person that had given me hope and changed my life for the better, at least for a while.
My relationship with Marcus was like a dream come true. It seemed that whenever I was happy
it was time for something to go wrong, and it did.
That night I called Sharon and told her what was going on in my life. We haven’t talked
much lately. I thought of her often, but with all that was going on and she was doing her thing
and going to school in another state we didn’t talk as often as I would have liked to. When we

did talk, I always got the feeling that she really didn't have enough time for me. I knew that with
school and her job she was busy all the time. When she answered the phone, I was sobbing; I
told her the whole story including the recent events. She just told me to stay focused. She told
me that what happened to me was indeed terrible, but it couldn’t be changed; it was time to get
over it. Her words made me feel worse. I needed her to tell me something that would make me
feel better.
I did everything I could think of to not to run into him. I started taking different routes to
classes, even rearranged my schedule, but he was always there. Even if I was fortunate enough
not see him he was there at every turn; in the shadows of my mind. I tried my best to focus in my
classes, but couldn't. My mind continued to focus on those terrible events. I became so stressed
that I was sick all the time. That is when I started to take pills. In the beginning they were pills
that I thought would help with the stomach pains. I didn't have a roommate so I was alone and
that made it harder to sleep at night. The fear of being alone and thinking he may know or find
out where I was caused me to shut myself down inside. Then I started taking sleeping pills to
help me sleep at night. Then I was taking other pills so that I would stay awake in class and at
work.
If I wasn’t sleeping through my classes, I was not attending them at all. I stopped talking
to Marcus because with all that was going on I was scared to involve him or to allow him to get
hurt. I couldn't bear to seem him hurt mental or physically, he was too good to me. I missed him
so much because I realized that had come to love him, I still do. Knowing that I had let the one
man that I loved slip away and I wanted him back really hurt. Then again, I had already hurt him
enough and I wasn't going to put him through that again. I had to let him go, he deserved better
than what I was giving him.

One afternoon on my way to my anatomy class I ran into Luke. I froze dead in my tracks.
I tried to walk away but try as I might, my legs would not move. He was with a group of his
buddies. He just smugly looked over at me and then gave me a cheesy smile. Deep down, I
think he wanted me to see him and to be fearful of him. As I looked at the ground, I wondered if
he was telling his friends his version of what happened. It took everything I had just to turn
away. I could not understand why I was feeling as if I had been violated all over again.
The pills that I was taking were not giving me the push I needed.
I thought to myself, the push I needed was Marcus to be back in my life. With Marcus I
was focused on the future, but we were not talking anymore. I guess you can say it was my
problem. I needed something, anything to get me back on track. A guy approached me in our
lunchroom that introduced me to marijuana. Getting high gave me back the desire to push
through my problems; this was the push I was looking for and just what I needed at this time. I
was in trouble with my schoolwork; on the very edge of getting kicked out of school. I was high
all the time, it seemed to help. At least that’s what I thought.
Unfortunately, it was leading me full speed down the wrong path. I had a 4.0 GPA when I
started school now I was at a 2.64 GPA and obviously no longer on the dean’s list.
I wasn't raised around drugs or illegal substances, and I was well aware of what
detrimental effect drugs could have on a person and how they can negatively affect your whole
world, but I wasn't thinking about those facts at the time. In my mind I believed that marijuana
was doing the trick, but it wasn’t working as well as it had in the beginning. I went back to the
guy that approached me in the lunchroom to ask him if he had anything stronger I could take. I
told him that I needed something so I could focus on my studies. Then came the speed and
cocaine, I finally once again found the high I needed, but after a while all I wanted to do was to

get high. I was getting high so much that I got fired from my job and at that time I really didn't
care, I just wanted to get my next high.
Going to class had drag, but I knew I had to go, so I went anyway. Without any money
coming in and my parents sending me what they could afford it was hardly enough to support
myself, let alone a drug habit. I had to find a way to get food and other things that I needed. I
went to the drug dealer to talk to him. I needed something; anything just to get me through the
day. He told me without any money he couldn't help me. I told him that I would do anything just
to get high one last time. When your body is crying out for a fix you'll do just about anything. I
was to the point that I was on my knees begging him to get one last fix. That is when I started
selling my body; I was doing all the things that were totally opposite of my moral and value.
Things that I was taught were wrong from a very young age. I was waking up places where I
didn't know I was or how I got there, or even what I had done. Those were things that I never
thought in a million years I would even consider doing; now I am doing them on a regular basis.
I awoke, rolled over and through my clouded vision I saw that I wasn't alone. Asleep
next to me was a man I had seen on campus but, in all honesty, he was just another stranger. I
knew in that moment what I had done. It should have mattered, but it didn’t. I was at a point in
my life when I just didn't care anymore about anything. I got up, got dressed and went to class
like nothing had happened. I knew I was going to be late, but hey, better late than never. At this
time, I was failing all my classes, and again, I really didn't care.
Later that day I called Sharon and told her everything that I was doing. I told her that I
was lost. I needed her help…I begged her for her help. I explained that I needed money and that
I couldn't go to my parents. I couldn’t let them know what was going on because they would be
hurt and very disappointed. I knew that she really didn't want to help me, but she sent me some

money anyway. She was very emphatic to my plight, but very firm when she told that was all
she was going to send. She told me to stay focused and I promised her that I would. I asked her
what was going on in her life and she said, she has three years of school left has a great job and
was dating a nice, and very handsome guy. Things were really going well for her and I was
happy for her, really happy. I was also feeling sorry for myself. I wanted happiness. I thought
that I had found happiness. Then my past came back and turned my whole world upside down
and I felt I had to give up who made me happy.
From that day on, we really didn't talk much. I went back to my old habits. This time I
went too far. I found myself doing unspeakable things just to get a quick fix. I didn't care about
my body or my mind. When you need a fix, you are desperate and you won’t stop until you get
that fix. That was exactly what I was doing; anything and everything to get that one last fix, but
it didn’t matter how many times I told myself it would be the last time, it never was. I drove
away my best friend when I needed her the most; I suppose it was hard for her to know how far
down I had spiraled. Maybe she was afraid I would drag her down too. I let the man I loved go
and now I regret not telling him what had happened. My excuse, I was afraid of what he may
have of thought. Now, I was waking up next to men I didn't even know. They would pay me to
have sex with them or gave me a quick fix. I was wanton and I didn't care, I just wanted to wake
one day and not have this empty hole deep inside. I didn’t want hurt or spend the better part of
the day with tears in my eyes. I was looking for something but I wasn’t sure what. I do know I
was looking for whatever it was in the wrong places. I was now on probation at school. I was
supposed to be going to Med School this year, but I messed up by not going to classes or
focusing on my studies because I was out getting high, or out degrading myself. I was trying to
get back in the routine of going to classes, but continually failed. The excitement of my dream of

becoming a doctor was still there with me, stronger than ever, but not strong enough to overcome
my addiction.
Miss Thomas was one of my professors that I believed to be callous. It seemed that she
was singling me out; calling me out for whatever reason in front of the other students. I was
sitting in class and she said,
"I'm glad to see you back in class and I hope you had a good vacation".
All the students started to laugh at me and that was my breaking point and I just let the
tears go; they poured from my eyes and ran down my face. The class became very quiet and she
just stared at me. The bell rang; class was over. I was gathering my things to leave but Miss
Thomas asked me to stay behind because she needed to talk to me. Even when Miss Thomas and
I were alone, the tears continued; as hard as I tried they just kept pouring from my eyes.
She handed me a box of tissues and sat down across from me and she began to talk. All I
could do was hang my head and listen.
"What's wrong?”
I didn't answer her. She just sat there and said she had all day and she would wait until I
wanted to talk. Since I remained silent she told me that I was on probation and facing academic
suspension. She also made me aware that my scholarship was in jeopardy if I didn't pull myself
together. In a soft chocked voice, the words spilled from my lips
"I don't know how to let go.”
"Let go of what?"
Quietly she waited for my answer.
"The rape.”

I said in a low whispering voice, wanting and yet not wanting her to hear what I was
saying, but she did hear me.
"When did it happen"?
"Four years ago when I was a senior in high school at a party that
I went to.”
Hours slipped by and we were still talking. Miss Thomas explained to me that I had to
face the past so that I would be able to let it go. At first I didn't understand what she was
implying.
"When I first saw you enter my class you had a passionate eagerness to learn, I knew that
you had your head on straight and you were going after what you wanted in life.”
Confused I asked her
"Then why are you so indifferent towards me then"?
"Indifferent, no, I care for you” she softly replied.
“I push you to go beyond what you think you can do; I set the bar higher because I know
you can meet and exceed the goals that I have set for you.”
She continued to talk
"Ask yourself why you even came back to class?”
She knew the answer and spoke before I had the chance,
“You came back because you want to be a doctor.”
Once again the tears began to roll down my face, but I felt better, I felt free. It felt as if a
weight had been lifted from my shoulders and my head was clear for the first time in a long time.
Miss Thomas put her hands on my shoulders and looked me straight in the eyes and said,

"I'm going to tell you something and you can take it any way you want to. I see so much
good in you and with your ability I know you will go far, but first you must confront your past.”
She paused for a moment and took my hands at said,
"Learn to control the hurt, but don't let it control you.” If you continue to allow it to
control you it will do more damage to yourself than you have already done". "The drugs weren't
enough for you so you went further by looking for something that wasn't there.”
She smiled. The look I gave her was of shock, wondering how she knew.
"It doesn't matter how I know, I just know.”
She wanted to emphasize that it is still my life by saying, "You still have a chance to turn
your life around and it's up to you.” Work it, but remember don't let it work you.”
She released my hands got up gathered her things and left. The next day I enrolled in a
program that helped victims of any past or present abuse. I entered rehab because I couldn’t kick
the cocaine addiction on my own. My cravings were so strong I was having difficulties
controlling them and I wanted control. On my own I knew deep down that I would be to. I had
to admit it; I could not do it on my own; I needed help. I was there for three weeks. The first
night was to worst. I had to go through withdraw alone; I had no one there to help me through. I
couldn't tell my parents they had been through so much already.
After the first two nights it started to get easier, but it was still very difficult. I wanted to
change the path that I was on. I decided that I was going to take control of my life and there was
no stopping me. I was going to do it. I thought back on the things that Miss. Thomas told me
and she was right; I was going to take her advice and work harder than ever.
When I had completed rehab I returned to class. I was nervous at first, but when I walked
in Miss Thomas class and she looked at me, smiled and said,

"I am glad to see you back in class and I hope you had a good vacation".
I was relieved; I folded my hand in my lap, looked up and thought to myself, thank God,
she isn’t treating me any differently than she did before. I smiled and with newfound confidence
I sat in a chair in the front of the class and from that day on I never missed a class.
I worked hard and regained my focus. I worked even harder and brought my grades back
up to a 4.0 GPA. I was very proud of my newfound confidence and myself. Since I had so much
work to make up I had to pick up more classes. That was fine with me; it gave me time to work
on myself. I was taking back my life that was lost so long ago.
It seemed that things were finally back on track. That is, until I saw Luke. I didn’t want
to look at him; I still feared him and the effects he had on me, so I turned my back hoping he
didn't see me. Then the words that Miss Thomas had told me came flooding back. It was at that
definitive moment that I understood what she trying to tell me about confronting my past. With a
deep breath I turned around, our eyes caught each other's. He confidently approached me
laughed and said,
"Just like old times."
"No, not like old times, but new times, my time". I've been through so much these four
past years, and yes, I did blame you because of what you had done to me, but I can't blame you
anymore.”
Choosing my words carefully to ensure I was able to convey my message in a clear
manner I stated,
“I no longer blame you because you can’t blame evil and you are evil.”
I paused, and he was silent. I took the opportunity to elaborate further,

“I will take control of my pain, the pain that you caused and never again allow it or you
to control me. Just because I believe that you reap what you sew and one day you will pay for
what you did, but remember when that day comes the pain you feel is because of the pain you
caused me and anyone else that you have violated.”
Without giving him a chance to reply, I turned around smiled to myself. With my head
held high I just walked away. As I turned the corner I looked back; on his face was shock and
disbelief; he now had something to really think about. I walked away from him and the fear I
had allowed him to inflict upon me feeling better than I had in many, many years. I knew without
a doubt that I was on the road to recovering. Recovering from him and everything he has put me
through. I knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but I wanted, no I needed, this challenge and I was
ready to grab the bull by the horns.

Chapter 4
The day I lost my heart was the day I thought my life wasn't ever going to change for the
better. My life was turned upside down the day my mother told me that my aunt had colon
cancer. It was Thanksgiving when my aunt was told that she had an aggressive form of colon
cancer, so my mother was off to see to her sister’s needs. My Aunt Georgia was a very special
person in my life and I will never forget her. I asked God to allow me to have her for a little
while longer, but even though he had other plans for her he gave me a little more time. I
understood why she had to go, and I knew this because I loved her. I also knew she wanted to
spend here last days at home with her family all together. Mom was dividing her time between
her family and her sister. She was back and forth taking care of Aunt Georgia and then here at
home being a mother and a wife. Then call came; the call that no one wanted to hear. It was
time. We had to go to Detroit to say our goodbyes. The doctors told my mother that Aunt
Georgia wasn't going to make it through the weekend. The cancer was so advanced and that
there was nothing more that could be done except to keep her comfortable. My dad asked me if I
wanted to go, and at first I didn't want to go, but I knew if I didn't go then I would regret it later,
so I went so that I could say my goodbyes to my beloved aunt. We were off to Detroit that night
and that was the longest ride to Detroit that I had ever taken. I spent the time deep in my own
thoughts.
Once we arrived at Detroit we went directly to Aunt Georgia’s home. Hesitantly, we
walked into the house to see her because no one knew what to expect to find. As I was walking
upstairs to her room there was a feeling building in the pit of my stomach that almost made me
physically sick. I thought for sure that I was going to throw up. As I got closer to her room the
sick feeling began to subside, but then my heart began to race. She didn't look at all like I

remembered. She had lost so much weight. She was always a tiny lady, but now she was even
more tiny and so very fragile looking.
At that time, I wasn’t sure if she knew who I was, but now thinking back I believe she
did. I could only stay with her a few minutes. I know now that it was selfish of me, but I had to
leave the room because it was hurting me to see her hurting. To see someone that I loved in so
much pain and knowing that there was nothing I could do to help her feel better was nearly more
than I could handle. I knew that her life was in someone else’s hands, God’s hands, and I was
powerless to change that.
It was a long weekend and I could see that my aunt was quickly fading away right before
my eyes. I would often watch my mother and the way she stood by my aunt’s side; she bathed
her, feed her and made sure that her hair was combed. At times if there was nothing else for my
mother to do for her sister, she would sit by her side and talk to her about all the wonderful times
they had. The main thing I remember is that my mother never left her sister’s side. My father
and I often had to make mom take a break to eat or to see to other personal needs, but when mom
was done she was right back at Aunt Georgia’s side. I always heard that when you love someone,
actions speak louder than words. My mother was proof of that and in seeing that I learned
something that would stay with me the rest of my life.
I slept in the same room with my aunt, and with every slow, ragged breath she took I
wondered if it was going to be her last. By God’s Grace she made it through the night. Saturday
was here and I gave my mother a break to get something to eat. I was all too happy to do so
because I wanted some time alone with my Aunt. As I sat by her bed and talked to her I wasn’t
sure if she could hear me, but I talked to her anyway. I told her that I loved her and if she had to
go then it was all right. I know she was holding on as long as she could and that I was proud of

her for being so strong. This was a life changing experience. I never had an opportunity to tell
someone that I loved them knowing that they would soon be gone. I didn't say much to her about
how I was feeling because deep down inside I knew she knew how I felt. I knew how it felt to
have feelings and words bottled up deep inside and no way to let them out. I knew she couldn't
cry, so I cried for her. Maybe she didn't cry because she accepted that it was the end for her and
she knew her life was now with God. My heat was hurting. A hurt that only time would heal,
and like it has been said many times before, time heals all wounds.
I remember, it was Sunday morning; my mother was up giving her a bath when she
started breathing fast and it looked like she was struggling to continue breathing. She was still
trying to hold on. Sunday December 13, 2001 at eleven o'clock Georgia Lee Peterson died from
an aggressive form of colon cancer. That was the day I lost my heart. I have never seen my
mother cry the way she did that day. I knew she was hurting and there was nothing that I could
do to make her feel better. I left the room and went downstairs and left my mom and my Aunts
son alone in the room. I had to cry, but I couldn't do it there. I was the only child of my parents
that was able to go so I knew what I had to do. It was up to me to tell my sister and brothers that
Aunt Georgia had passed. My tears wouldn't stop long enough to dial the numbers; the whole
time praying that I dialed correctly and relieved when I heard a familiar voice on the other end of
the line. Then when I called my sister to tell her the news I didn't know how she would react, but
I had to do it. I told her she was gone and we began to cry together. After several minutes she
told me to keep in touch; to hang in there; Aunt Georgia was free now, free of pain. She is in a
better place. She told me that she loved me and to keep her informed about what was going on.
The words she told me were encouraging. We both knew how close our aunt and mom
were and I had to be there for our mom, to give her support that she needed during this time. The

day of the funeral I felt tired because the night before I cried till there were no more tears left to
cry. I made it to the church and thought that when I saw her body I would feel ill. I walked
around to view my Aunt Georgia one last time; she looked as if she were sleeping. She had had
a surreal glow and a gentle smile touched her lips. I told her that I loved her one last time and I
said goodbye as the tears rained from my eyes. The service was a simple one, focusing on the
wonderful and full life she had; the life she had dedicated to our Lord. The service ended and we
walked slowly out of the church in a fog. We walk to the car that would take us to the cemetery.
One the way to my Aunt’s final resting place I thought of all the things that she taught
me. The things will always stay with me. I will never forget all of the times that she came to
visit us. I so loved our late night talks about anything and everything. She was more than just my
aunt she had become my best friend. Now realizing that I had lost yet another good friend an
overwhelming emptiness flooded my heart. I learned so much from her; I will take all the things
that she taught me and will keep them in my heart forever.
I thought of her often during the next few weeks after her passing. It seemed as if I
thought of her every minute of every day. I learned that constantly thinking of her was keeping
me in a dark place and as much as I had hope it would, it wasn’t going to bring her back. I knew
I had to get on with my life, but at the same time I was scared. I would never stop loving her or
forgot about her. She will always have a special place in my heart. Even though she is not with
me in person, her spirit will forever live on within my heart. Aunt Georgia always taught me to
go after what I wanted in life. I often would forget that, but now I will remember that every day.
Sometimes I can actually feel her presence; not in flesh but in spirit. I remember the day I
graduated from high school her spirit was there with me supporting me every step of the way. All
the times before when I felt no one understood me, she did and I will be forever grateful to her

for that. All the tears she dried and the hurts she helped me heal; I only wished I could have
returned the favor and someday I will.
For months after her death I was still taking it pretty hard. I wasn’t able the deal with the
loss as well as I would have liked to, the way I felt I should. I felt as if I had no one to really
talk to anymore; the one person I wanted to talk to was gone. I had to try and learn to let her go.
My mind and my heart just weren’t ready. Her death happened so fast that I had to think back to
remember what happened and if it really happened. It took a long time for me to accept that a
piece of my heart was no longer beating, and that it will never beat again.
Aunt Georgia will never be replaced by anyone; she will not only always be my favorite
aunt, but the best friend I ever had. Once again, her words came back to me, stronger than ever;
these inspiring words she spoke will remain with me forever; “to go after what I wanted in life,
because I was good enough and strong enough to do it. To become anything, I wanted to
become.” Those words were going to help me to keep going for my heart’s desire. Her wise
words would continue to push me to do what I needed to do. To honor her and her words of
wisdom, I was going to do it. I was going to go after the rest of my life and it was going to be
better than ever. That is how I was going to repay her.

Chapter 5
After the loss of my aunt my focus on school changed dramatically. I had never before
been able to place so much focus on my classes. I had so much work to do as well as lost time to
make up. I found myself staying up late and back up early the next morning studying. Oddly
enough, I was not tired; I actually felt great. Where the energy came from I don’t know, but I
liked it. If I was going to go to medical school, I had to complete a year and a half of work in less
than a year. I had to pull up my grades if I wanted to get into a good medical school. I had
enrolled in summer classes and weekend classes all at the same time. If I was going to do this, I
was going to do it big.
I explained to my professors why I was behind and I wanted more than anything to make
up all the work I had missed and to do extra credit if I needed too. I didn't get to go home much
for the holidays. I stayed in my dorm room doing my homework. I made many sacrifices in order
to let my professors know that I was serious; to show them that I was committed. There was an
unknown force driving me to complete my schoolwork, but what was that force? I didn’t want to
mess up this opportunity or slack off even a little bit, so I was not letting my guard down; I just
kept pushing through.
I was in my last semester, when I was called to the dean's office. I was a nervous wreck. I
had no idea what to expect. As I walked into the dean’s office I saw Miss Thomas, one of my old
professors, standing next to him. Miss Thomas’s presence raised even more question in my
mind. Nervously I stood by the door when I heard the dean ask me to have a seat. I sat down,
my heart was beating in my throat and million butterflies were swirling around in my stomach.
As I sat in the comfortably decorated office the words the dean said seemed as if they were a
distant echo.

“I must tell you we are impressed with the work that you have done.”
I looked up from my lap wondering if I should be happy or scared. He went on to further
explain his statement by adding that it was just one year ago that I was failing all of my classes.
He recognized the fact that I had worked through my summer break and all holidays in order to
pull my grades up. He continued by telling me that he and Miss Thomas had something to tell
me and that they hoped I would find the news to be nothing less than remarkable. The dean went
on to say,
“You have pulled your grades up from failing to an A average in less than a years’ time
and you will be graduating after this semester, right?”
Still feeling extremely nervous I just nodded my head yes. Miss Thomas and the dean
explained that they understood that I needed to get back to class, so they would get to the point
of why they called me to the office. I heard the dean say
“At first we had a valedictorian, but after adding up the ending semester grades it looks
as if you have taken the lead.”
Dumbfounded, I just sat there with a bewildered look on my face. I really wasn’t sure
what he meant. Then Miss Thomas said,
“The title of Valedictorian is yours if you want it.”
I swear my heart stopped. The tears began flowing down my blushing cheeks. I wasn’t
sure how to react; what was considered an acceptable way of showing my appreciation, my
gratitude? Do I just say thank you? To this day I still don’t know because I let go and started
screaming yes. After I calmed down I thought to myself; all I wanted is to get into a good
medical school and this was my way in. Lost in thought I heard Miss Thomas say
"We're not done; there's more.”

Miss Thomas continued by telling me that the college has recommended me and that I
would be accepted at any medical school I chose and the tuition would be paid for with a
scholarship. I was aware that the next four years of medical school were covered as long as I
kept my grades up. With this particular scholarship it was understood that if you keep up your
grades you don't have to worry about tuition; with good work comes rewards, congratulations
and the financial support in hopes the recipient does well and successfully attain his or her
degree.
Miss Thomas added,
"I will be standing on the other side of the stage when you get your medical license; I
hope you will meet me there.”
I looked up and replied with enthusiasm,
“I will be there.”
Medical school was nothing likes college; I had to study even more. That is what I did. I
had to take in so much information at once, which made this part of my degree even more
difficult. I was in medical school for a while when I started to have stomach pains and I noticed
discharge. At first I thought nothing of it and just took over the counter medication and kept
going to class. I thought the pains would go away sooner or later, but they didn't. I started to
drink a lot of water and watched what I ate, but the pain and the discharge continued. I began to
miss several of my classes because of the continual pain, and once again I fell behind in my
studies.
It was almost summer break and I knew it was time to make a doctor's appointment. I
went back home and went to see my doctor. Since I had unprotected sex my doctor told me that I
had contracted a sexual transmitted disease; Chlamydia. I was put on antibiotics that would clear

it up, but since I waited so long to have it checked out it had caused other damage that was
irreversible. My doctor informed me that I had a slim chance of ever having children. That news
shattered my soul. I had survived so many awful things and there were times that I didn’t
believe that things could get any worse, this had to be the most devastating. With everything in
life there are consequences; this is one of those things. I will just have to deal with this just like
all other negative things that have happened.
Summer break was over and it was time to go back to school. I was excited to be going
back. I was already caught up on my work and I was ready for the next semester. One day in
class I found myself thinking of Marcus. I wondered what he was doing and how he was doing.
There were times that I really missed him at times. At that time in my life I didn’t want to let
him go, but I had too. I tried not to think about him, because thinking of him only made me hurt
and I was desperately not trying to go there.
Time seemed to fly by; it was the last week of school and it was time to graduate from
medical school. The excitement I felt was unbelievable; at the same time, I was terrified. I was
packing my things in my dorm room when tears began to run down my face. I took a few
moments and I just stared out the window at the rain. I wondered that if after all the things I had
accomplished, would I be able to survive out in the real world. I guess if I wasn't ready, I needed
to get ready. If this is what I wanted and what I have worked so hard to get; it is time.
The following morning, I awoke to the sun warming my face. I opened my eyes to a
beautiful day. I stretched and in a flash it hit me. Graduation day had arrived and I heard a faint
knock at my door. I opened the door and there stood my parents with so much love, so much
pride in their eyes. They had come to see me walk the stage and graduate for the last time. At
twenty-six I had finally arrived at the place in my life where I always wanted to be. With tears

rolling down my cheeks and tears in parent’s eyes, we embraced each other; hugs filled pride and
with love. Mom was the first to speak.
"We are so very proud of you and how far you have come. We know it was very hard but
you never gave up. You stayed focused and worked hard and we could not have asked for
anything more from you".
Dad who was normally the big talker just stood there with tears flowing from his eyes. I
looked into his eyes and I knew what he was saying and I knowingly smile; I knew exactly what
he was unable to say.
Dressed in my last cap and gown I took one last look in the mirror. The reflection
showed my smile; the smile of pride. As I confidently walked across the stage for the last time
there was someone at the other end, Miss Thomas. With my medical license in my hands I
eagerly walked to meet her. Embracing her with tears running down our faces she whispers in
my ear
"Let me be the first to call you Doctor Calisioi Powers".
She turned around and walked away and I never saw her again. Those last words that she
said stuck with me, and I never forgot her. She had faith in me when I didn't have faith in
myself.
The following day as I packed my things in the car, I took one last look at the campus
that had been my home for six years; a home of trials and triumphs. I knew I had succeeded and
with that in mind I smiled with new found self-confidence, turned with mixed emotions and left.
Fresh out of medical school, I wasted no time by starting my Internship immediately. I
had never been happier than I was at this time in my life. I had trouble sleeping the night before
my first day of work. It seemed as if there was always something that ran through my mind that

kept me from sleeping. That morning, my eyes opened to the warmth of sunlight and the smell of
bacon and eggs. My mom was cooking breakfast. I ate, savoring each and every bite. With my
stomach full of my mom’s delicious breakfast and my heart and mind full of excitement, I felt
that I was now ready for my first day of work; or so I thought. Driving on the way to work my
stomach began to feel jumpy; like it was full of butterflies. For a brief moment I thought about
turning around, but I didn’t. I remained on task. I parked my car took a deep breath and began
walking towards the hospital, my future. As I entered the hospital I had no idea what to expect.
I stood at the door looking like I was lost which I actually was. I found the front desk to ask
where the new interns were supposed to go.
A woman came to the front desk as soon as I was signing in; she introduced herself as Dr.
Annessa Bradley. She was going to be the resident that I was going to following for the next two
years. She gave me a white coat with my name on it. The coat was as white a Christmas snow.
To me it felt as if it was Christmas. Placing one arm in at a time in my new white coat I relished
in the excitement. I glanced into a mirror that was on the sidewall and said to myself,
“I am here and its time to do it and to do it big.” I didn't know what to think of Dr.
Bradley at first, but she grew on me. She was always focused on her job. What she did she did
very well and I very much admired her for that. We talked as if we had known each other for
years, so I felt comfortable around her. This alone made it especially easy for me to follow her
lead. The first day was fun we did minor things like taking a tour around the hospital and
introducing me to other doctors and other staff members that I would be working with. The
second day I went to work and that was when things changed. I started to see what being a doctor
was all about and what it was going to make out of me.

I experienced a lot as a new intern. I tried to learn how not to take things personally. It
was difficult not to take my patients problems and make them my own problems. Often times I
became overly involved with my patients because I cared, but I am here to say, it did not make
my job easier. Getting personally involved with my patient’s problems made it more difficult. It
was hard for me to see so many women with medical problems and knowing that half of them
couldn't be helped was a miserable feeling. I loved my job, although some days were better than
others, I still hung in there.
One day, my day was going especially well when a young woman came into the
emergency room. The young woman had been raped. She looked so young, so helpless;
memories of my rape came flooding back. She was eighteen, right out of high school, scared, and
not talking. I was able to get some basic information from her so that I could treat her. I didn't
know how to talk to her, because she was my first rape victim. I knew how she felt so I had to try
and make it better. I told her that I had been raped when I was her age. She looked at me with
tears running down her face and somewhat of a smile. It made me feel a little better that I was
able to get her to smile, even if it was just a little smile. I felt that I had to make my patients
problems personal if I wanted to become a great doctor, but not to personal that it would interfere
with my life and job.
I lay awake that night thinking of the girl that was raped and what I could have told her
that may have helped her. I thought that maybe I didn't tell her enough, maybe I told her too
much; maybe what I said didn’t mean anything to her. Was anything I said important enough to
help her? I guess I didn't want her to go through what I did. I gave her advice as to what she
could do so she wouldn't have to go down the same road full of disappointment and more hurt
that I had traveled. I wondered how I could tell a woman that was raped what they could do to

get through the hurt when I didn't even know how to get through my hurt, pain and fear of
myself. How could I convince her when I couldn’t even convince myself?
When you take the problems of a patient as your own you think of them a lot. Throughout
my internship I shed many tears for those who were hurt; especially those who were hurt in a
sexually violent manner. I wondered if I could get through the tears and hurt of the patients that
came in and out of the hospital. Being a Gynecologist was not an easy job. The job came with
many problems. The biggest obstacles for me were the patients that you couldn't do anything
for. I took one day at a time and did the best job I could do. I worked long hours, but I loved
every minute. When I started my internship I saw so many rape victims I stopped counting. It
started to get to me and I wasn’t sure how to cope with the fact that rape seemed like an everyday
occurrence. It seems that my emotional scars where being ripped open whenever I helped a rape
victim because there was nothing I could do to help them emotionally or take away the pain they
were experiencing. I could only treat their bodies, not their minds. I couldn't do anything to ease
or prevent the painful memories or nightmares they were going to encounter. I did my job, but I
always felt I could have done better.
I was working the graveyard shift in order to gain more experience. On night I was called
to assist with a trauma patient that had just been brought in. As I ran to the emergency room my
heart was in my throat, once again I heard the call over the intercom. When I entered the room I
didn't know what to expect. It turns out she was fourteen and had been raped and tortured in a
way I could never have imagined. I have never seen so much blood from one person at one time;
you couldn't even see what her face looked like.
She was sent to the operating room because she had multiple stab wounds. Dr. Annessa
was called in to do the rape kit and I was to assist her as best as I could. I needed to stay focused

because the young girl’s life was in our hands. She was beaten severely and stabbed repeatedly,
the team in the operating room did the best they could to repair all the damage, unfortunately she
would never be able to have children, but she was alive. I was so scared, but nervous at the same
time. I did not want her to die at such a young age and especially as a result of a horrific rape.
For some reason I grew attached to her. I constantly thought of only her and what she had
endured. She was fourteen years old, walking home from school when she was attacked. Her
jaw was broken, eyes swollen shut also stabbed six times, and left for dead; she was found
several hours later in an alley behind a dumpster, and yet she survived. She was a strong little
girl. I visited her often as I could and thought I had to do something to help her get through the
heartache that she was going to face. That's when I decided to start a program that would help
rape victims get through their problems and fears.

From the Other Side of Happiness V1 5 Chapters

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From the Other Side of Happiness V1 5 Chapters