Entry Ten
SHELL SHOCK
“What up nigga?”…
That’s how I greeted Gold T. The smile he gave me was huge. My boy was glad to see me, even under these circumstances. We gave each other one of those “Player-Player” hugs and started talking right there in the hall. Now, even though Gold T and I were facing each other I could tell by his expression that something had jumped off behind me.
I turned, looked, and froze… Blood. Blood everywhere! Time seemed to screech to a standstill. My optics and brain refused to communicate with each other properly. Everything was in slow motion. Guards were screaming, a female guard ran, slipped in a pool of blood, and began to crawl away. In my mind, I imagine this is what it must feel like to be, The Flash… With one major difference. My feet won’t move. My mind is screaming, “Run nigga, run for your life!” My body refuses to acknowledge my brain’s request. Both shanks in the inmate’s hands have been baptized in blood. He’s coming towards me. (Is he coming for ME?) I see him tackled by a humongous light light-skinned black guard. Now it’s a pile-on game, as several more male guards jump on top of the inmate.
I hear what sounds like smaller skirmishes popping off inside the chow hall, but it’s the wounded guard that has me fucked up. It’s Officer Williams. The wound to his neck is mortal. I know it and I believe he knows it. The blood is bright red. I feel sick.
In my heart, I know he won’t make it. Still, I remain frozen to the spot. Gold T was yelling for me to, “Come on nigga!” He literally had to grab me to get, me and Time moving again. Guards were running from all over the prison by then.
They forced Gold T, me, and everyone else who was in the hallway at the time into a small corridor that led to the gym. I watched as they carried the dying officer out of the building. For a moment…. well, more like a nanosecond, the guard’s eyes and mine locked. How the fuck can so much blood come out of a human body? He was dead already, his mind just hadn’t accepted it yet.
Entry Eleven
LOCK DOWN
I didn’t get back to my cell until way after 10:pm…
Big Rob wanted to know what had cracked off. I told him everything I had witnessed.
The goon squad escorted all the inmates back to their units, but they made us go through the outside emergency fire doors. I’m assuming that they considered the hallway an active crime scene.
The sight of the moon and the cool night air felt so good on my skin that it made me chuckle out loud. I thought to myself, wow! It’s been close to a year since I walked outside at night. My laughter infuriated C.O. Allen who pulled me out of the line and whispered in my ear, “I could choke the fucking life out of you right now and no one would blink an eye!” I knew he was dead ass serious, so I kept my mouth shut as he got off a cheap shot to the right side of my face.
Back in my cell, I told Rob everything, even how I saw a female guard run away from the melee. He just laughed and said I should have tripped her ass so she could have got it too. I asked Rob how long he thinks this lockdown will last. He estimated about a week or two.
Around 3:00 a.m. an inmate on the top tier yelled out that he heard on the radio, that the guard had died from his wounds. The whole unit erupted into cheers. I mean real festive cheers and banging on the cell doors. Every race united as one celebrating the death of another human. I hope I never become that cold. Rob told me to, “Get used to it. You got to become a monster behind these walls if you want to survive.” I’m going to get back to my book. It’s starting to get good now.
Entry Twelve
TIME IS RELEVANT
We are getting showers today…
The guards are starting on the first tier and making their way up to the third. At this rate, they will probably get to me around 1 p.m.
This 24-hour lockdown shit sucks! Big Rob is working out this morning. He’s doing dips, push-ups and crunches. The cell is starting to smell funky. I wish there was a way to get frozen for ten years and then wake up on my release date. I can’t see me doing ten straight. A whole decade! Damn!
Sometimes I just imagine I am in the crazy house and I am the only sane nigga here.
I’ve been trading Big Rob my cereal for breakfast because it’s made with some type of pork by-product. He assumed I was a Muslim. I told him I’m not Muslim, but I also informed him that during in-processing when asked what religion I was, I told them Jewish. Big Rob laughed, “Ain’t no black Jews!” Usually, I’d school a nigga, but ignorant niggas and open minds always clash. I let it go.
Big Rob is 34 years old. 8 years older than me. He has been in for 11 years and has 13 more to go. I haven’t asked him what he’s in for and he hasn’t asked me. My guess is drugs.
Ten years is not looking so bad after all.