Picking up the Pieces... Part 11

What is a Victim?  The dictionary defines it as, “a person harmed, injured, or killed as a result of a crime, accident or other event or action”.  But what is it, really, to be a victim?

I was always an intelligent, unprejudiced, unbiased woman.  Capable, independent and self-sufficient.  OCD, with a great attention to detail.  These are all words my children just gave to describe ME…  This is how they, and the rest of the world, have always seen me.  This is how they know me to be, still...  

I became a victim.  And now, all anyone can see - is VICTIM!  Oh sure, everyone says the words, “don’t let him win by being a victim”.  But then they turn right around, and treat me - like a VICTIM!  And it won’t ever again matter, all those words that I used to be.  Because Gary has taken them all from me, and left me – VICTIM! 

All of our family and friends, see us now as victims.  We can apply for jobs, but they too eventually come to find out – we are VICTIMS!  And we can make new friends, but they too will come to realize we are VICTIMS!  And this word, seems to take our brains and dignity from us.  Like we’re too stupid, to be capable of anything.  Like we’re too prejudiced now, to ever be capable of independent thought and reason.  The word VICTIM has tainted us, made us something much less than we ARE.  Most of the time, I feel I walk around with a giant V stamped on my forehead!

Case in point:  I got my jury duty summons.  I showed up, like everyone else.  I had no excuses, no reasons not to be there – and, I would really like to sit on a jury.  I feel, from my perspective now, that I have a lot more to offer.  It seems of far greater importance to me now, this weighing of the evidence of guilt or innocence...  And the most important thing, is knowing they have the right person being charged with the crime.  For if it is the wrong person, that means the guilty person is still free.  And that, is now unacceptable to me!  Being a victim, did not take away my unbiased and unprejudiced ability to make a decision.  It did not take away my intelligence, nor render me incapable.  It did not take away my ability to catch the details.

I sat in the jury box on the second day and was questioned.  I answered honestly.  Which meant I had to answer questions #22 & #23.  22 asked – did I know anyone who had committed a crime, or been sentenced for committing a crime?  “Yes.  My son’s best friend was arrested for murder”.  (There was a sudden intake of air from all the perspective jurors who filled the room)   23 asked – had I, or anyone I knew, ever been a victim of crime?  Hmmm.  “Yes.  On December 20, 2011, my son’s best friend came into our house to kill us all.  He murdered my daughter, stabbed my husband and another child staying with us that night”.  (Now, every juror let out that air in one giant GASP)  

And so, the defense lawyer and the DA began questioning we perspective jurors.  Every one – but me, that is.  They could not even bring themselves to make eye contact with me!   Because this damn thing THAT WAS DONE TO ME, is like the gift that keeps on TAKING… 

How does one, at the end of William Gary Simpson’s trial, express through my impact statement, that he took it all?

And that he gets to keep right on taking it…