Friday, May 19, 2006

Like I needed something else to worry about

Earlier this month, I received a letter from the Maryland Department of Public Safety and Correctional Services, Maryland Parole Commission. The purpose of this letter was to inform me that a certain inmate of the Eastern Correctional Institution is now eligible for parole.

This isn't supposed to happen. At least, not yet.

Backstory: I had a run in with a very angry man when I was 19 years old. He raped and very nearly murdered me (not in that order). Fortunately, I knew the man and where he lived, and the police picked him up without incident one week later. He confessed and has been in jail ever since.

The State's Attorney who was prosecuting the case gave me an option. Guidelines say "Life in prison, all suspended but 40 years." Defendant says, "Give me 'life all suspended but 30 years,' and I'll plead guilty." Which means: no trial.

I say, "What about parole?" The State's Attorney says, "He will not be eligible for parole until after 17 years in either case." (She was very clear about this).

I ponder this. An entire year had passed. I'd been in therapy. I was feeling better. I know what they do to rape victims on the stand. I said, "Take the plea."

Well, now it turns out that none of that was true.

When I made the call to the Parole Commission, ranting about 17 years, nobody knew what I was talking about. The Victim Services Coordinator is "out...indefinitely." (Charming, Governor Erlich). I finally get an actual hearing officer on the phone who tells me that he's actually eligible after 15 years, and that the fact that he's now eligible (after 10) is probably based on credits awarded for good behavior and working while in prison.

I say, "You're telling me he gets 5 extra years of eligibility because he was a good boy? He must have been a very good boy."
The hearing officer says, "For him to get this much credit, that's most likely indicative of a very positive adjustment to incarceration."

Great.

So now it's decision time.

1. Do I go to the hearing? Only I (as the victim) can request a public hearing. But if I do that, not only will I get to go, but so will his family. And I don't like that one bit. I have options. I can skip the open hearing and submit an impact statement. I can also meet privately with the commissioner before the hearing. But there's something to be said for seeing the man, seeing how he is. Is he really better? Or is he just as crazy as he was then, and still working the system? I don't know how I can find that out any other way.

2. Do I tell my parents? My mother has had a very hard time with all of this, and she has her own set of daunting problems. But, they're the ones who are in danger first if he's let out. They live in the same house, and I'm scared for them. Do I tell them this is happening? Do I wait until he's released, if he's released? I just don't know.

So this is my unhappy parole commission news.

But all of that is legal wrangling. How am I? Mostly fine, except when crap like this happens, or when I see a movie with a woman being strangled (they never get that right), or on certain spring nights when the window's open and I smell dogwoods.

If you're still reading this, I hope I didn't muss up your day.

3 Comments:

Blogger that girl said...

shit fuck and dog piss, girl. that's quite a big thing to be dealing with, at all, ever, in any context. i want you to know that if there is anything i can do, just look at me funny - you don't even have to ask.

i've also got a shotgun and a shovel...

4:38 PM  
Blogger Dan said...

You're obviously a pretty good writer - I would opt for the impact statement. But I've never been to Silver Springs, MD, so if you need help carrying the shovel . . .

5:16 PM  
Blogger unique_stephen said...

I once went to a Tori Amos concert and she had just mumbled some introduction to a song - about it being very personal or similar and a loud booming man yelled out from the audience and heckled her. I don't remember what he said but it was a bit insulting and had a slight sexual overtone. Turned out she sang about being raped at gun point across the bonnet of a car.
I cringed and felt embarrassed and little and ashamed about being male.

I kind a feel like that now.

1:32 AM  

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