by redclay | Dec 25, 2019 | Creative Writing, Detention Center Writing Contests, Non-fiction
The Written Smile
Sikandar Imran
First place, non-fiction, Heard/Arlington County Detention Facility writing contest, August 2019
As I was driving to work on a crisp winter morning, mechanically consuming my usual breakfast of coffee and a protein bar, my mind was filled with a number of distractions. I had recently moved to Virginia from upstate New York for a clinical fellowship and training in Hematology and Oncology at a university hospital in Washington D.C. I was taking my time getting used to the intricacies of daily life in a bigger city. The familiarity of my old life and routine had been replaced with a nervous anxiety of even mundane things such as figuring out the nearest grocery store or the cheapest gas station.
My mind raced randomly between distressing thoughts as I moved at a snail’s pace through bumper-to-bumper rush-hour traffic. I had multiple valid reasons for consternation: I had left my brother and his family and many of my close friends behind in New York; I was going through a terrible break-up; my cost-of-living had gone up considerably and my earnings had drastically reduced in the new training job; my car needed repairs as did the ventilation system at my apartment; I kept putting off seeking medical attention for the unremitting back pain going down my leg; I was struggling to find time to prepare my talk on HIV associated cancers; I was gaining weight due to my unhealthy eating habits paired with a lack of exercise and was very self-conscious about my appearance; I felt a gnawing sense of underachievement at having reached the third decade of my life and being single and without a family of my own; my rigorous working hours were leaving me drained and spent and I still wasn’t sure if I was making adequate progress in my learning and expertise.
It was the first day of my rotation at the head and neck cancer clinic. As a trainee, my assignment was to study each patient’s file, interview and examine the patient, discuss my thoughts and findings with my attending physician and subsequently go see the patient again with my attending in tow to have an all-encompassing discussion.
“Why don’t you review the chart for the next patient first and then we can go together and see her. She’s been through a lot and we have really run out of options. Her cancer came back recently and I really don’t know what else to offer her. She’s so young and so strong, but her cancer has been very aggressive. Let’s talk to her together once you review her chart.” My attending, Dr. Smith, said with a furrowed brow and concern in her voice, an emotion which is not unusual for an oncologist to express, but I could sense added pain and empathy in her voice.
I nodded and started reviewing the chart. Kelly was a 34 year-old woman who had been diagnosed with cancer of the mouth about a year and half prior. She had developed an ulcer in her mouth initially which upon further investigation proved cancerous. She had gone through four different grueling chemotherapy regimens, each with its own set of challenging side effects ranging the gamut from hair loss to painful numbness and tingling in her arms to loss of fertility; all with short-lived disappearance of disease and recurrence with a vengeance shortly thereafter. She had just finished her last treatment about a month prior and unfortunately had started experiencing difficulty swallowing leading to imaging scans which revealed return of the cancer yet again. A student at a local university, Kelly had been married for about 4 years, and had a 2 year-old son. She was now coming in to discuss her new symptoms and further options.
I registered this and other pertinent information in my brain and quickly looked up key points about cancer of the oral cavity so I could better understand the case and keep up with what Dr. Smith was saying and answer her questions.
“Is there nothing else we can offer this patient Dr. Smith?”
I asked with both concern and curiosity.
“I am going to offer her immunotherapy which has been beneficial in recent studies, but I’m not entirely confident it will make any difference. Her cancer has been relentless from day one and I’m afraid this is turning out to be one of those cases where we are helpless.”
Dr. Smith said.
“But if you think it’s not going to work, why put her through another treatment? She has had so many adverse effects with her prior treatments. She couldn’t even complete some of them because of toxicity.”
I asked.
“That’s a very valid point. I think we have to make some tough choices. The one thing we don’t want is for our treatment to add to her suffering for no good reason. But this is usually a curable cancer, and keep in mind that her youth and lack of any other medical issues means that she can tolerate much more therapy compared to an older patient. I want to try absolutely everything even if the odds are against her.”
Dr. Smith said, with discernable ache in her words, a glaze setting over her eyes.
“That makes sense.”
I said.
“Let’s go and see her now if you are ready.”
Dr. Smith Said.
I knocked on the door and entered the room to see Kelly with Dr. Smith.
There was a young woman sitting in the room with a man by her side who she introduced as her husband, Mark. She was dressed in loose clothing with a surgical mask over her nose and mouth to conceal the devastation cancer had wreaked over her face. Her head was covered by a scarf; an attempt to hide alopecia due to chemotherapy. Part of a long-term use catheter poked out from her shirt. Most of her body was covered by clothing to reduce photosensitivity. Her emaciated frame, wasting temples, pitted nails and prematurely aged skin were testament to the fact that her body had become a battlefield. Her big eyes conveyed anxiety, hope, anticipation, sorrow, and exhaustion…all at the same time.
Dr. Smith introduced me to the couple and then started talking to Kelly, like two best friends having a focused conversation. Kelly couldn’t speak comfortably or coherently because of the destructive anatomic effects of her cancer. Mark answered most of our questions and Kelly added her input through written notes and gestures.
Kelly was dying, and it was slow and agonizing, more like drowning in quicksand instead of a car accident. She had no appetite and was readily losing weight. She was unable to chew and swallowing was painful; mostly pureed food through a straw. Her pain was better with a hefty concoction of painkillers and sedatives but the numbness and tingling in her limbs had worsened to the point where she couldn’t fasten the buttons on her shirt or tie shoelaces. Persistent foul smelling nasal and oral discharge distressed and embarrassed her. Her short term memory and cognition were worse. She was especially sensitive to changes in temperature. Her frailty resulted in a challenging instability at home; she had dropped out of school and mark had reduced his working hours to take care of her and their child.
Kelly and mark looked at Dr. Smith with cautious hope in their eyes, imploring and pleading with their gaze, understanding that our attempts at fighting the cancer had been in vain. Not only had we run out of options but Kelly’s physical, emotional, financial and mental resources were all fading away. They comprehended their choices, or lack thereof, but were not ready to accept them yet. Dr. Smith offered them immunotherapy as a last resort and discussed associated side effects but was realistic about outcomes; she did so in the manner of both an intellectual expert and a commiserative comrade, a skill which takes years of honing and similar heart wrenching encounters.
There was an uncomfortable silence in the room for what felt like a very long time. Kelly reached for her note book and pen and scribbled something. She held the paper up in front of her masked face for us to read as a tear rolled down her cheek.
“I’m smiling.” The note said.
Dr. Smith smiled and embraced Kelly and mark. There wasn’t a dry eye in the room. In that moment, with Kelly’s inability to convey emotion through her face and yet show such resilience and strength in front of everything life had flung at her, to continue standing up to cancer with dignity and courage, I forgot all my worries. Everything about my life that I thought was problematic or went wrong fell apart and seemed trivial. I lowered my head in sympathy and vowed to exercise more gratitude for all that I had. We exited the room and I moved on to the next patient, hoping and praying I didn’t have to witness someone else’s pain, suffering and fortitude before realizing my own blessings again.
(The names and any other identifiers of individuals in this essay have been changed in order to protect their privacy)
by redclay | Dec 25, 2019 | Creative Writing, Detention Center Writing Contests
The Day That Changed My Life
Imilsis Velazquez
Nonfiction, Heard/Arlington County Detention Center writing contest, August 2019
I didn’t know it then but at that exact time fifteen hundred miles away at her home in San Francisco, California, my mother would be fighting for her life. The cancer that had invaded her body had spread to her brain and had hijacked her blood cells.
It wasn’t a day but a night. The night that changed my life was the night cancer murdered my mother. It was 3:33 a.m. on Tuesday morning, May 3rd, 2003. I’ve heard it said that’s the devil’s witching hour. I was awakened suddenly from a deep slumber to find my heart pounding like a drum in rhythm against my chest. I awoke sweating profusely feeling like my head wanted to split open. Then I saw her at the foot of my bed, looking at me with the same loving kindness I’d known all my life. I began to cry silently as I looked into her eyes. I understood then and there that she was gone to me forever. Cancer reigned victorious once more.
“My child why do you cry for me?”
I couldn’t answer her. I knew if I opened my mouth I’d lose myself in a storm of tears. And so she continued, “I’ve come here to help you understand, baby girl, that instead of sadness it is joy that you should embrace because I have returned home. My body shall be buried but my spirit is eternal.”
“Please know that it is important for you to accept all experience in this life as part of God’s great plan. I have completed my mission, my purpose in this life and I will see you once more in heaven. Having you was part of my purpose but your life is your own. It is meant for you to learn and to grow in spirit. You need to take all the seemingly negative things/experiences that happen to you and try to overcome their effects. You need to not only forgive your enemies but love them, thereby nullifying any bad influence they may have on you. You must let go of the past, change your heart, forgive yourself and then move onward. You must never give up! If you fall a million times, you must get up a million and one. This is how you grow. This is your purpose, to love and to grow.”
By this time she’d moved closer to me and enveloped me in her embrace, in her light, in her love. Suddenly my body felt as though it had been shocked with a defibrillator: once, twice, then a third time. I opened my eyes and sat rigidly upright on my bed gasping for air. My cell phone was ringing on the night stand next to my bed. I picked it up and answered, “Hello?” It was my father.
“Hi, Lily, honey. I’m sorry to wake you at this time.” I knew before the words slipped from his tongue.
“Your mother passed away.”
by redclay | Dec 25, 2019 | Creative Writing, Detention Center Writing Contests
Mass Incarceration
Semhar Gerensie Teclay
Nonfiction, Heard/Arlington County Detention Center writing contest, August 2019
Arlington, Virginia, 1435 North Courthouse Rd., 7 a.m. Shift change shift change stand at your doors full uniforms on with wrist bands shown at your doors, shift change shift change stand at your doors, what you are about to witness is Mass Incarceration.
My mornings start at 4 a.m. with triage with a diabetic glucose check and then medication. At 4:30 a.m. I’m headed to the kitchen to start my day off working as the prep man. It’s a job that keeps my mind off things I can’t control. I get paid six dollars a week which is terrible but I get to eat what I want if you know what I mean. In order to work in the kitchen at the jail, you must be low or medium custody level; any violent crime will eliminate your chance to work. The things I see in the kitchen you wouldn’t believe, for example stealing, sending kites throughout the jail including females, selling onions, green peppers and sugar, everyone has a hustle including me. Around 6 a.m. trays are delivered through the whole jail one hour before shift change. Once the jail is fed the kitchen crew gets to eat. As we sit in the break room inmates pull out all the hidden goodies making sure staff or cameras don’t lead on. All the inmates come together and break bread, whatever I need you might have and whatever I have you might need. In the background all you hear is, yo who got some cheese while another says who got the onions let me get a little bit. Then it’s quiet as we eat together and forget where we are for about 15 minutes then it’s back to work.
At 7 a.m. the whole jail is locked down as the deputies are changing shifts. Inmates are locked in their cells as the deputy makes his or her rounds to check status of the inmates. For those who’ve never been in jail let me explain, stand at your door with your armband showing inmate number 1231417 and if you don’t you suffer the consequences. To me that’s nothing. I’ve been in ten different jails my whole life, give me a radio and some books and I’m out of your way. I feel bad for the guys here for the first time waiting for sentencing not knowing the seriousness of their case, expecting to go home in less than a month. Fear starts to penetrate into their heart to a point where they are desperate asking fellow inmates for legal help and advice, reason is their public defender won’t contact them til the Day of Judgement, can you blame them? I won’t. I’ve been there before.
From 9 a.m. to 11:30 a.m. it’s recreation time. This is when and how you determine the type of inmate you come across. First you got the inmates that are on the rec yard lifting weights doing their exercise routine, these folks got their time and is what we call Bidd’in. Then you have the folks at the tables with their paperwork laid out preparing their strategies to present in court, either for sentencing or filing a motion for reconsideration. Then you have those people lying all day long about their material possessions on the outside that are worth nothing on the inside, those folks we call crash dummies. Private investors call them investments.
12 p.m. it’s chow time, we gather at tables and eat cold cuts and potato chips. Later on in the day we start our programs to better ourselves. That’s what they tell you; see most of the jails don’t even have programs anymore, they don’t have the funds to keep a program going, it’s all a front. The prison industry to me is the new holocaust without the gas chambers, people of all kinds, I mean good people, screaming for help, waiting for the super power as if it was America saving Germany during WWI.
It’s 4 in the evening dinner time last meal of the day also known as another day gone. Most of us inmates like to watch a movie or write a letter to a friend or lover, or read the paper. A simple phone call to our family with a cup of coffee preventing bad thoughts or feelings to linger in our minds. Playing card or board games with a friend that you’ve done time with. For me reading the Bible seeking new wisdom keeps me calm at night. 11:30 p.m. lockdown, just sitting here preparing this paper to educate people on what goes on in America’s prison systems. Not all of us are bad, I happened to make a mistake and did some jail time, then I was put on probation and I’ve been stuck ever since.
by redclay | Dec 25, 2019 | Creative Writing, Detention Center Writing Contests
I’ve Weathered Some Ferocious Storms, and Noticed that the Most Extraordinary and Peaceful Sunsets seemed to Follow the Worst Ones
Victor Oben Ebai Jr., Arlington County Detention Facility
I’ve weathered some ferocious storms, and noticed that the most extraordinary and peaceful sunsets seemed to follow the worst ones. Though life can be diabolically treacherous at times in these vitally truculent moments in our lives solidifies and enhances our faith, strength, aptitude to endure pain, builds character, enhances our resiliency to obtain more patience and a reassuring understanding that ultimately God is in control. How can you show somebody the best way if you’ve never been through the worst way. Life has taught me that we don’t necessarily need to be the best, we just have to be good enough and strive for better.
Forty-six chromosomes make up our genetic code which pertain both dominant and recessive alleles. As our genes have to proliferate, mutate, dexterously finding ways to fight diseases, infections and be self-sufficient in rebuilding our immune system. We also must be subsidiary in our lives to find new and innovative ways to survive, evolve, mature gain wisdom and adjust to detrimental occurrences throughout life.
In direct correlation with God’s preeminent purpose to my opening statement that “the most extraordinary and peaceful sunsets seemed to follow the worst ones”. I quote from Proverbs 3 verses 13 through 18. “Happy is a man who finds wisdom and the man who gains understanding”. 14 “For her proceeds are better than profits of silver and her gain than fine gold”. 15 “She is more precious than rubies, and all the things you may desire cannot compare with her”. 16 “Length of days is in her right hand, in her left hand riches and honor”. 17 “Her way are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace”. 18 “She is a tree of life to those who take hold of her and happy are all who retain her”.
by redclay | Dec 25, 2019 | Creative Writing, Detention Center Writing Contests
Change or Remain the Same?
Anthony Campbell
Nonfiction, Heard/Arlington County Detention Center writing contest, August, 2019
Change or stay the same? Change or stay the same? To change means I have to change a lot of things about myself. Like my thinking, the way I move, people I interact with on a regular basis, places I go, and possibly my appearance! That’s a lot, then I have to think whether or not this change is for the best? Will it impact my life positively or negatively? Change has a lot of levels and steps, so am I ready to make those changes? Remaining the same seems pretty easy; it’s comfortable, it’s routine, it’s the same old me! Change will bring a new me and will my friends and family like that changed new me or the same old me and am I ready for the new me or content with being the old me?
What and how will I feel? At least I know if I remain the same all the questions about change will be put to rest! But one thing I do know about myself is I like new things so maybe change is good because it’s new, and if I like new everyone else will too because I’m not the only person who likes new things as long as they are new and improved! So do I change or remain the same? Change or remain the same? As much as I would like to remain the same old me, change seems like the direction to head in and the meanings of new and old says it all.
• New—different from (the) one in the past, strange, unfamiliar, recently grown fresh, unused, modern and recent.
• Old—having lived or existed for a long time, of aged people, of a specified age, not new, worn out by age or use, former.
Yeah its final. Change and everything new. I’m all in! Change is definitely in my and everyone’s best interest as long as it’s positive! Besides the meaning New comes before Old in the dictionary! Because the only thing that a person can’t change is their past, the future however if one does decide to change is full of possibilities!
Change Don’t Remain the Same!
Change Don’t Remain the Same!
by redclay | Dec 25, 2019 | Creative Writing, Detention Center Writing Contests
As the Mind Gets Quieter, the Intuition Gets Stronger
Victor Oben Ebai Jr., Arlington County Detention Facility
As the mind gets quieter, the intuition gets stronger. Often times throughout life we are faced with the anxieties of trying to live up to society’s futile preconceived credence ideology of our perception of success. Any desire that we have that’s in conflict with God’s desire for us requires that we change our desire. Theoretically speaking two wrongs don’t make a right but two lefts makes a right. As a result of our disobedience in God’s purpose in our lives we are forced to take two lefts to make a right as opposed to just making the right in the first place. We’ve all learned the hard way that when we abscond from God’s desire for us daunting and catastrophic occurrences takes place in our lives, forcing us to deplete lambently changing our course to where he wants us to be.
Though many life experiences may seem abstruse we must learn to grow from it and sustain our equanimity which is the evenness of mind especially under stress. Ultimately we reach a state of equipoise gaining greater simplicity and purity of equilibrium peace and tranquility thus causing our intuition to become stronger. Previously studying at Central State University and Wesley College I learned Anatomy and Physiology one, and two with the labs, human growth and development courses, psychology, sociology, and pathology which is the study of diseases along with my greater understanding of deoxyribonucleic acid better known as DNA. Also with interleukin which is any of several proteins of low molecular weight that are produced by cells of the body and regulate the immune system and immune responses.
Tying all these subjecting matters studies have proven that gaining equilibrium of peace and tranquility not only strengthens our intuition, but it also enhances our production of interleukin proteins to regulate the immune system and immune responses. Secondly our acetylcholine which is a compound that is released at nerve endings of the autonomic nervous system and is active in transmission of nerve impulses.
The determining factor for these bodily chemicals to be secreted and properly carry out its unique tasks, they must first be aerated which is to supply blood with oxygen by respiration. Studies have also proven that too much stress causes diseases and weakens our immune system. We were created in the image of God therefore we inherited God like features such as intuition which is the power or faculty of knowing things without conscious reasoning. So I challenge you to tap into your inner God and find your purpose. When we get on our knees for God, God stands up for us. As the mind gets quieter, intuition becomes stronger.
by redclay | Dec 25, 2019 | Uncategorized
The Return
Bianca Astore Bowman
Second place, Nonfiction, Heard/Arlington County Detention Center, August 2019
Richard paused in the forest to listen. He didn’t think anyone had followed him. But he was growing paranoid. The rustling behind him was probably just the wind through the trees. Though he didn’t feel any wind now. No breeze to dry the sweat accumulating on his forehead.
He had to keep moving. He couldn’t afford to hang around waiting for the fickle wind to start back up. A handwritten note in his jacket pocket was summoning him forward. It had been left at his apartment door, now miles away: “Midnight. Old oak.”
He knew better than to follow its demand. To come back here —toward the old oak of his childhood playground, the old oak he had grown to hate, the old oak where he had last seen his father-terrified him. But his obsessing mind had won out. He had left sure-footed as a cat, but now, he wondered if curiosity wasn’t going to be the downfall of them both.
With the wind still absent, he continued forward. His legs simultaneously alive with energy and unsteady as a sapling in a storm.
The anticipation of what he would find at the oak made him miss the subtle breaking of fallen branches a careful distance behind him. Thoughts of his father’s muffled yell the day he had gone missing overshadowed an equally muffled cough, now a few meters away. Memory of his pre-pubescent legs racing and tumbling, searching in vain for his father, still filled his head as he now came upon the very man he had been looking for ever since.
“Ricky…I only did it to protect you.”
But the sounds of the forest had caught up to Richard and were wrapping a blindfold around his eyes.
His world now buzzing with darkness, he was guided to a sitting position in front of the old oak. The bark clawing its way through his jacket. More noticeable was his pulsing heart, thundering heavily in his head.
“Dad?”
“Ricky — I hope you’ve lived the best life possible. I love you more than anything, I didn’t think they would come for you so soon…I thought you had more time.”
The unnatural sounds of the forest now added their voices.
“Your old man’s right, kiddo, he does love you. Talked about you every damn day.”
“But he was wrong to think we still had use for him. We need someone nimble, someone new. And he made us a deal, Ricky.”
“We need to collect our debt, the one your daddy left to you. We need to keep you around awhile. ‘Til it’s come due. Ain’t that right, old man?”
There was a scrambling to Richard’s left. His father’s voice, now farther away, pleaded out to him.
“It’s only a little bit left. I tried to pay it all back, I tried. I know you can do it, son. You won’t be greedy like me. They’ll treat you alright, they won’t hurt you. Just a few jobs. Just a bit of time and we’ll see each other again. I’ll protect you again. It’s been my only job. It’s all I’ve done. You weren’t one of my mistakes.”
His father’s words merged with the sounds of the forest.
Ricky had returned to the old oak. He had found what he was looking for. He had won the game of Hide and Seek.
He had lost the prize.
by redclay | Dec 25, 2019 | Creative Writing, Detention Center Writing Contests
White Hope
Darrell Haley
First place, fiction, Heard/Arlington County Detention Center writing contest, August, 2019
Dam it’s hot out there already! D-Mak said walking into his Ethiopian friends tobacco store.
D-Mak I haven’t seen you in a while where have you been? Sameer asked.
D-Mak shook his head and exhaled deeply then put his hands behind his back like he was being arrested.
Oh I get it. Sameer said understanding that his friend had been incarcerated. Sameer quickly put Newports, a bottle of water and a mild Slim Jim into a paper bag then sat it on the counter. D-Mak pulled out a ten dollar bill.
No my friend this is on me today. Sameer said in a heavy accent.
Thanks Sameer you good people’s man! D-mak bumped fists with Sameer and army saluted him and walked out of the store in a good mood. Instantly he stopped outside of the store’s door and looked at the flier. It was a picture of a pretty older white woman with blonde hair and a shapely body of a softball player walking a white expensive looking Pomeranian. It had a cellphone number and a date of when the dog ran away.
D-Mak sat on a small white fence knowing the Newport he was about to smoke would make him light headed. He inhaled the cool menthol smoke instantly feeling the satisfaction of a pleasure only a true smokers name brand can give. He opened the Slim Jim and took a bite chewing and looking up at the clear blue sky as his mind raced — thinking about just being released from jail in Arlington, VA and he had less than a hundred dollars to his name and was stressing the fact that he had lost is 98 Ford Contour with all of his main clothes in the backseat in a expensive designer duffle gab. But he wanted to badly see his three children and spend much needed time with them and was planning to move back to his hometown to Manassas, VA and to try and get his job back which was mandatory at this point having to start over from ground zero.
Rerfff!!! Ruffereff!!! The sharp barking sound scared D-Mak and broke him out of his racing thoughts making him look down fast.
Dam you little bastard you scared the hell out of me! D-Mak squinted his eyes staring at the small dog noticing it was real dirty and mangy with gum stuck in its fur looking like it had just jumped out of a dumpster.
Refff!!! Rufffef!!!
The small dog barked at D-Mak and started wagging it’s tail then danced on it’s back legs turning in circles like a show dog. Dam I wonder where you learned that!? He said to himself amazed at the dogs little performance. He broke off a piece of the Slim Jim pitching it in the air and the dog jumped about 3 feet off the ground catching it in it’s mouth and doing a backflip all in one motion.
Holy shit!!! D-Mak was impressed and wondered what else the dog could do. He gave him another piece and the dog quickly stood on it’s front legs like a handstand then started draging it’s ass on the ground with it’s back legs kicked out in front of him leaving behind a trail of blood and started yelping in pain.
The dog stood in front of D-Mak with a pleading look in it’s eyes and he noticed that the dog was dripping drops of blood behind him. D-Mak quickly went into his Eddie Bauer book bag and grabbed some paper fast food napkins and the dog walked toward D-Mak like he knew what was going to happen next. He lightly grabbed the dog with care and turned him to the side.
D-Mak lifted the dogs tail seeing now that the dogs rectum was down to the next layer of skin and bleeding so bad that D-Mak knew the dog needed veterinary emergency care. D-Mak thickly folded the napkins and started dabbing where the dog was bleeding at. It started yelping three times louder than it did the first time as D-Mak kept dabbing not paying attention to his surroundings trying to slow down the bleeding.
The bleeding started to slow down as the dog started to lightly wimper and howl and D-Mak stopped. Still holding it’s tail up a small turd the size of a Snickers bite size candy fell out of the dogs rectum with blood and small worms moving wildly on it.
Got-Dam dog you need serious help! D-Mak said out loud. He noticed the bleeding had mostly stopped and he decided to pour water on a napkin and do one more dab and try to get the dog some help. The dog made a howling sound so loud and shocking it scared D-Mak.
He looked down to see something that looked like a piece of rope dangling out of the dog and picked the dog up and layed it down on its side and D-Mak went into his book bag and pulled out a plastic bag, lifted the dogs tail then grabbed ahold of what was now almost touched the ground. D-Mak slowly pulled and the dog cried out like it was getting kicked and abused.
A young white man comes out of the Cricket cellphone store and stops in the doorway. What in the fuck are you doing man!!! The Cricket store employee yelled more like a teenage girl than a young man.
I’m try’na help this dog now call animal control and shut the fuck up! D-Mak yelled at the man. And went back to slowly pulling what was now as thick as a mans pinky finger and about three feet long that looked like a leech and D-Mak slung it over in the grass. He slowly poured water into the dogs mouth as it weakly drank it with pleading eyes looking up at D-Mak.
I’m sorry little buddy I’m figuring I had to do it. He said to the dog.
Get the fuck away from the dog now motherfucker!!! D-Mak looked up but already knew who it was by the authoritative tone of voice.
Motherfucker get down now! The police officer shouted.
Man I ain’t do nothing! D-Mak yelled.
Both officers put D-Mak in a wrestling move, one with a knee in his back and one had him in a headlock. Sameer came out of his store shocked at what he was seeing and his friend in handcuffs. D-Mak was thrown in the backseat knowing he was going to Fairfax County Jail. A frustrating tear came from his right eye knowing he was up shits creek with no paddle.
D-Mak was charged with animal cruelty, resisting arrest, assault on a police officer, loitering, verbal assault.
And being black kneeling over a expensive white dog laying by a pool of blood.
D-Mak got processed and then put in a cell.
Busted lip, black eye and Nike boots to the ribs D-Mak layed there thinking in reality terms. Probation violation, and bogus charges and most of all lose of freedom with a high ass bail.
Haley your bail has been posted! A sheriff yelled.
D-Mak didn’t get up thinking the sheriff maybe said Bailey. The sheriff opened the cell and D-Mak was thinking to himself who posted my bail.
D-Mak gets released realizing his cellphone is turned off, low on cash and it was after 10 pm. A silver Mercedes CLS 550 pulled to a stop in front of D-Mak. He couldn’t see inside from the tint. A pretty older white lady with blonde hair wearing a black spandex Nike suit walks over to D-Mak and gives him a hug catching him off guard and she smelled like his favorite perfume.
I’m Taylor and thank you for trying to help Hope.
Who in the hell is Hope. He asked confused.
My special dog Hope you tried to help by your friend Sameer’s store, I’ve seen it on his security system!
So you posted my bail?
Yes I did and look at your face they really did a number on you. She lightly touched his face turning it to get a better look.
My bail was pretty high.
Oh that’s peanuts to a queen. Taylor said like she was talking about five dollars instead of five thousand dollars like it was nothing. Well where do you live? She asked.
Well I just got out yesterday and I was gonna try to get to Manassas and see if my cousin would let me couch surf for a few days until I come up with something because I’m low on cash.
Dam I totally forgot, I owe you for the reward.
What reward? He asked still confused.
You didn’t know Hope had a reward for up to $10,000.
What the fuck for real?!
Yes and how would like your currency? Direct deposit, prepaid credit card, bitcoin or cash. She asked.
Dam your serious! He said not believing his luck.
Well get in we gotta ways to go!
Where are we going?
You’ll see when we get there.
Dam this is nice Taylor.
It’s ok my Corvette is in the shop.
Dam you own a Vet shit!
To be correct I own five vehicals.
D-Mak whistled and threw his book bag in the backseat. Taylor typed on her cellphone then instantly August Alsina. “FEAT” Young Jeezy/make it home tonight sounded good on the premium sound system.
Taylor pulled off fast then sparked a joint.
Dam that smell like the chronic girl.
I only smoke that good D-Mak. She said with pride.
So do you know I good lawyer Tayler?
I am a lawyer and don’t stress I’ll take care of everything.
D-Mak smiled to himself reclining the leather seat. Taylor went through her playlist surprising D-Mak.
Did you eat?
Naw I didn’t want that shit.
Well I’ll cook you something when we get to my house.
D-Mak nodded his head in agreement. Minutes later pulling up to a 4 bedtroom, 4 full bath, 2 car garage, heated pool, a full gym, hot tub, pool table, x-box, flat screens and everything else you could want at home.
They get out of the Benz talking about tomorrow, little white Hope and a lawsuite.
I have already writting 3 books starting in 2009 when I could see the story line easy with no writers block. First book is titled Fa$t Money. Second is Extreme Chances. And the third is Black Girls Lost $oul. I can draw but I’m a writer at heart. And thank you for taking time out to read this short which is my first and it was fun. Better dayz to you.
by redclay | Dec 25, 2019 | Creative Writing, Detention Center Writing Contests
From a Boy to a Man
Troy L. Sweetney
Fiction, Heard/Arlington County Detention Center writing contest, August, 2019
Lamont Fayney was born in Washington, DC on the day of September 14, 2004. Born to an unbelievably wealthy family that he wouldn’t soon to know until he was much older. But as far as he knew, he only has a brother 2 years older than him, a mother and a step-father. Lamont was introduced to things a at very young age that made him curious as he grew. Living in Southview Apartments on Southern Avenue, he had his first encounter with a girl at his age of 7. He would never forget it. Although Lamont was active in inappropriate ways for his age, he also stumbled upon some good qualities. He won the Spelling-B in the 3rd and 4th grade that were on 7th and 8th grade levels, he played the violin and also was skipped from the 5th grade to the 7th. Lamont was very intelligent indeed for his age. He was as some people would call him, an “educated-nut.” But a lot would soon change in years to come for Lamont that he never would have intended to happen.
Lamont, his brother Bernard, mother and step-father moved out of the rough ghettos of Washington, DC to a small town in Maryland named Langley Park. “Ma,” Lamont called to his mother, whose name is Sonja. “I’m headed to work in an hour, do you need me to do anything for you before I leave?” She replied, “Yeah, as a matter of fact I do. Go get me some Newport’s from Andre real quick.” Andre is Lamont’s step-father. He didn’t like him much but he still called him “dad” for the sake of normality. Lamont never knew his real biological father. “Damn ma, can you just call dad and tell him to bring you some?” She replied, “What I just say?” “Ok, I’ll go ma, wasn’t asking to leave the house though. Thought you might’ve wanted something done ‘around’ the house but whatever.”
While Lamont was walking to his step-father’s job site, which is 5 minutes from where they live, some guy named Ghost caught up to him. Lamont didn’t know Ghost so he was skeptical as Ghost approached him. “What’s up Rock?” Few people called Lamont “Rock.” He was given the nickname from around the neighborhood because of his solid body like a rock and he was only 15 years old. Lamont replied, “What up bro, do I know you?” “No, but people told me a lot about you. I think you’re a good candidate for the cause.” Lamont said, “What cause the hell you talking about man?” “I know this is probably ‘weird’ but we been watching you for a while now, we like your style. Just wondering if you trying to get some real money other than working at that crusty burger joint,” said Ghost. Although Lamont didn’t know Ghost, he was curious as to what he was offering, so they exchanged phone numbers. Ghost set a time and date for them two to meet.
The day came for Lamont to meet Ghost and as expected Ghost called Lamont early in the morning at 8 am sharp. “Yo what’s up Rock? I need you to meet me in downtown Silver Spring near the hotels at the Subway.” Lamont replied, “Damn bro, I know we spoke on this a couple weeks ago but my job called me in today even though I took off. Can we reschedule this man?” Ghost said, “Rock, what we got to offer you, you’ll never have to work in your life, neither will your kids. Look Rock don’t get it confused. We don’t need you bro, we want you. So come on man forget that rinky dink burger joint. I’m talking real money. Plus, I put in a good word for you so don’t make me look dumb.” Lamont pondered on it, not even knowing what he was getting himself into but gave-in and replied, “Ok, I’ll meet you there. Hope it’s worth me losing my job, I’m still on my probation period; I’ll get fired for not going in.”
So, for the sake of money for his immediate and only family he knew, Lamont met up with Ghost at the appointed destination gambling the risk of him losing his job. As they spoke, Ghost went over every little detail of the plan of what him and his team wanted Lamont to do. Lamont thought they probably wanted him to be a get-away driver or a muscle-man to rob a bank, but he was wrong. Ghost and his team wanted Lamont to enter into a multi-billion dollar company office building, locate the treasury department, find the safe, crack it open and take all the financial papers that are in there. The only problem about cracking the safe is he has to solve an algorithm, but not a mathematical algorithm; it’s an alphabetical algorithm. It’s a very hi-tech sophisticated safe and he only as 3 attempts to open the safe before police are notified. Lamont still wonders why he was nominated to attempt this task but know he’s smart and slick enough to fulfill it.
Now is the day when Lamont is to put to the test, risking everything behind it. If he gets caught, he would be looking at serious jail time. Ghost calls Lamont around 7:30 am and gives him the run-down once more. “Rock today is the day you go from a boy to a man,” said Ghost. Lamont was ready, dressed fully in business attire. Although Lamont is 15 years old, his facial features and physique would make him pass for a 20 year old intern. Ghost’s team specialized in a lot of things, so Lamont was given an ID badge and a key card courtesy of Ghost’s team. Once in the building, Lamont went straight to the building’s directions, then to the treasury department unnoticed. Surprised that his key could work for the treasury department’s main office, Lamont went in and hid in a janitor’s closet near a corner far off until 9 pm when everybody was completely gone. Once clear, he went to the safe; although nervous, cracked it open on the second attempt. “One step closer to pay day,” Lamont thought, now he just needed to leave. But little did Lamont know he dropped a sheet of paper near the safe.
There was no way for Lamont to leave the building without the hallway motion sensor detecting that somebody is there alerting security, so Lamont slept in the closet. He was awoken by chatter near-by and heard his last name “Fayney.” Lamont’s heart dropped, he just knew he was caught maybe by a hidden camera, but that wasn’t the case. Lamont heard his last name again, “Mr. Fayney, who could have possibly known the code to get into the safe other than you?” a lady said. The lady is Mr. Fayney’s personal assistant. Mr. Fayney is the founder of the company being ran throughout the building and their business being to sell and ship “hi-tech automatic self-buffering machines” to all hospitals and government facilities across the nation. As Lamont tuned into their conversation, he suddenly became curious when he seen that him and the founder has the same last name. Lamont had a plan.
Stepping out of the close unnoticed, he slipped into the bathroom to freshen up. Going over to himself in the bathroom as to what he was going to say until, coincidentally Mr. Fayney suddenly appeared. “Like a sign from the heavens” Lamont thought, he went straight to work. Seeing Mr. Fayney’s ID badge, Lamont said, “Wow, Mr. Fayney I was just headed to your office to request to speak with you. I’m from a firm in Virginia that would like to consult and do business with you.” It was 11:30 am so Mr. Fayney invited Lamont to lunch to further their discussion.
As Mr. Fayney spoke on things that didn’t interest Lamont, Lamont waited patiently to speak on what he really wanted to say. Lamont thought to himself, if there is no relation, then he’ll just turn the financial papers to Ghost. But if there was his conscience wouldn’t let him go through with it. Lamont now took the floor to speak and asked Mr. Fayney some personal questions such as, did he have any siblings, nieces or nephews etc? Mr. Fayney felt Lamont was out of pocket asking such questions but he answered them as asked. And to Lamont’s surprise, Mr. Fayney said, “I have one sister named Lois Fayney and one niece named Sonja Fayney.” Lamont shouted, “That’s my mother’s name!” Then Mr. Fayney said, “My sister was a ‘hard egg shell,’ she kept her daughter away from the rest of the family and never said why.” It was like a family reunion to Lamont.
Lamont confessed about the financial papers and explained he only did it to better his family. He gave the papers back to Mr. Fayney. Then Mr. Fayney said, “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you and ‘our’ family.” And so he did, so Lamont never contacted Ghost again.
by redclay | Dec 25, 2019 | Creative Writing, Detention Center Writing Contests
Life or Liberty
Brian Boettcher
Third place, fiction, Heard/Arlington County Detention Center writing contest, August 2019
It had happened — worse than anyone imagined possible… Another celebrity president was somehow elected into office. After Donald Trump weaseled his way into a second term, Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson slid into the Oval Office with an unexpected landslide victory. Yes, The Rock became the Commander in Chief of the great United States of America. The political climate of 2025 had changed quite a bit in the past few years. Things like E-currency and crypto-currency legislation and rights over social media accounts, likes, tweets and followers have replaced the age old issues like health care and gun control on the House floor. Companies like Google, Amazon, Facebook, Uber and Twitter now ran the free world. The Rock happened to be just the face and personality that “Big Web” (as it came to be called) needed to pacify the people into clicking, liking, following, spending and ride-sharing their incomes and lives away. Convenience and social media had become the new opiate of the masses.
There was a small issue though. One that nobody in the public knew about… really only Dr. Raj Patel — who was Dwayne’s Surgeon General, Kassandra Linder — his VP and a small team of specialists knew, but “The Rock” was dying. As a result of some moderate use of experimental steroids many years ago, his kidneys were failing. Dr. Raj had just given him the news that he now has a year to live.
“This is bad,” said Dwayne as the bad news was dropped on him. “I mean really, really bad.”
“I can’t possibly become president now, not with the mess with Big Web now. I just can’t… how is this even possible?!” Chimed in Kassandra from across the Oval Office where the three of them were having a very private meeting.
“Well, we’ve come up with a scenario that ends with a possible solution by next week,” said Dr. Raj.
“Possible?! I don’t need possibilities from you Doc! I need facts and actual solutions! If Big Web gets wind of this it’ll be just what they need… they’ll twist it somehow and become even closer to completely controlling this country!” Dwayne yelled as he pounded his fist on his mahogany desk.
“Well, we have a solution then… Sir, but its going to have to involve Big Web,” said Dr. Raj.
“Does it involve me living long enough to finish my term… and the uh, next one too?” asked Dwayne, under the illusion that his government really was still in control of the US.
“Absolutely Sir… and many more. We have made arrangements and have a team of specialists standing by, waiting for your word.”
“Do it then.” said Dwayne, not really even sure what he was committing to, also not even caring as only a dying man could.
“Just sign here Sir.”
The next day at Western State Penitentiary, Ty Shaw, inmate #900372, was waking up for his morning jog around the rec yard. Ty was 23 months into his 15 year sentence for selling narcotics. This was his third offence, and all things considered, he was just starting to accept his fate and stay positive. Hey, at least I’m finally clean he told himself. At 29, and in peak physical condition Ty hardly ever used his Big Web sponsored state health insurance, but all it took was one time 2 years ago. One doctor visit for all of Ty’s medical information, vital data and DNA to be stored on a Big Web database. An algorythm was run, a match was made, sent back to the White House and that was it. Ty was a perfect match, litterally one out of 100 million with an exact match to blood type, organ stats and DNA profile.
Ty was walking out of his housing unit on his way to his jog when a guard yelled to him “Shaw! Visit!” Caught off guard Ty fired back “What the hell?! At 9 am?!”
“I dunno bud, but you’re going. Sarge said its mandatory.”
“Uhh, okay,” said Ty.
Walking into the visiting room still confused, Ty sees two non-descript, almost identical looking men in plain black suits and shades.
“Have a seat Mr. Shaw” says the one on the left. Ty apprehensively approached the table they were sitting and takes a seat across from them. “Uhh… whats up fellas? Someone die?” says Ty, expecting the worst.
“We have a proposition for you Mr. Shaw.” The proposition went something like this: “Give up one of your healthy kidneys as a matter of national security, and you walk a free man.” Said the man on the right. Followed by his partner saying “The procedure takes 3 days. You could be a free man by next week… You have 10 minutes to decide. Sign here, and you’ll come with us. Right now…”
“Shit.” said Ty.
Of course Ty went… would you? Everything went according to plan, Ty walked a free man, a free with a shorter life expectancy. Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson finished his term, even ran for a second one. There was one pretty big unforeseen consequence of the whole ordeal though. Big Web found another way to exercise even more power and control. A new system was developed to keep the wealthy alive longer, and the poor shorter. Modern medicine came a long way, certain organs, even bones, joints and limbs could easily be transplanted. Now the nation had an alternative to continuing to overcrowd its jails and prisons, which were already bursting at the seams. The only thing left to figure out was: How much time is a kidney worth? An eyeball? Would someone rather do 10 years in prison or go home on probation with one hand? Should a right hand be worth more than a left? How many years of ones life is the ability to procreate worth?
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