by redclay | Sep 29, 2020 | Creative Writing, Detention Center Writing Contests, fiction, Fiction
You’ve Been Warned
by Walter D. Kissee
Second place winner, fiction, Heard/Arlington County Detention Center/OAR writing contest, August 2020
Hus lay in his bunk in his cell staring up at the ceiling. ACDF in VA had been his home for 1 year. The only thing he had to look forward to was that he would be released in two month. Hus didn’t really talk too much usully stayed to himself Most of the time he lay in his bunk and look at how big his to son boys where getting.
Him and his child mother relationship began going down hill when DOIR began hangout with a pimp called Moe. Moe was well known in VA for having the badest sexist females in VA. He was also known to be violent and don’t take no mess attitude. When Hus hurd about DOIR hanging around with the well known pimp. He ended ther relationship.
While locked up Hus heard rumors how Moe had DOIR stripping and selling her body and mouth for him along with the rest of the female hoes Hearing those stores mad Hus sick Ever since DOIR began dealing with the pimp she slowly eased Hus out of her life The vist stopped the letters, then finally she stopped answering the phone calls.
During these times Hus stayed postive and did his best not to take his anger out on anyone else In do time he would be a free man and be able to live a nomal life The first thang Hus was going to do is go get his two boys Hus cell door popped open He new it was lunch time He stepped out his cell and hopped in chow line.
“How you feeling today?” an older man named OG asked in the chow line
I cant complain as Hus looked around to cheeck his surroundings, as Hus look at the back tables he saw 20 men all brothers wearing all black sitting at the tables for the past four months Hus noticed the group of men stayed to there selves and didn’t interact with any other inmates
What’s up with those guys Hus asked being noise
Who the ACE’s OG said. Bunch of loose canons trying to start a movement that’s sure to get the killed
“A Movement?” Hus repeated, what kind
They claim they gone to be the next Black Panther Much Bigger Better OG said there going to clean up the streets
Hus smiled the more OG told him bout the ACE’s He became intersed He wanted to know more. As the grab ther food Hus asked OG How are they going to clean up the streets OG said what they need to be worrying bout is how there going to be cleaning up the blood they on a suicide mission
OG laugh
Whats so funny Hus asked.
Jail is crazy OG said Niggas in jail always got all the plans on how they going to do this and that he lauged But as soon as they get out they jump right back into the shit that got them locked up.
Its wild Hus agreed He looked back over at the ACE’s, he hurd what he said But these men look about there business
The ACE’s where in deep converstation what ever it was It was serious, OG said you see the one talking right now He’s the leader Way The guy sitting to his right is his right hand man His name Real-Live He definitely lives up to it
Hus ask where did they get those names from
I don’t know but to me it looks like something is bout to go down ****
Way and Real-Live sat back and watched young knuckle head sell dope to a few customes Way and the ACE’s already approched the young man who called hisself TRU told him to stop selling that poison in the jail
But of course TRU continued to get his hustle on, since the Bloods gang were backing TRU he felt he was untouchable and ignord the ACE’s warning
Im bout to clap that nigga Real-Live said looking for any reason to put in work. He was in charge of security and muscle of the organization Real-Live was violent. And a vicious man who lived for action
“If we catch him make another sale its on until then we chill,” Way said He was the leader, the creator, and the brains behind the ACE’s. The hole purpose of the ACE’s was to clean up the community and get rid of all druger dealers and any body who was trying to destroy the community Way knew he had a lot of work it would be no easy task
He was up for the change Way and Real-Live were ready
You Been Warned
by redclay | Sep 29, 2020 | Creative Writing, Detention Center Writing Contests, fiction, Fiction
Dreamer
by Derrick Barnes
First place winner – fiction, Heard/Arlington County Detention Center/OAR writing contest, August 2020
As Thomas approached the intersection he avoided the turning car by mere seconds. This was not the first time that this has happened. Thomas Adrian was known to be different. Even as a child he was a loner. Although he was born with striking good looks and an abundance of charisma he was standoffish. It was always like he couldn’t quite fit in.
At three years old he had a terrible fit of colic, that was so bad that it required both parents to miss work. The irony of the episode was that his dad, Thomas Sr., was a managing director of a shipping company who was experiencing downsizing. On that day a disgruntle employee came into the company’s wharehouse and shot eight people. For some it wouldve been considered a coincidence but for some reason the hairs on big Thomas’s neck stood up.
Thomas Sr vowed to watch his son very closely from that point forward. At age five Thomas Jr saved his sister from falling down a flight of stairs. Six months later Thomas Jr created a scene that alerted police to stopping an attempted robbery of the neighborhood gas station.
At age twelve Thomas Jr action prevented a fire at his Jr High School. His teacher was preoccupied and forgot a bunsen burner was on near a flamable gas. Tommy turned off the gas a moved the substance.
As he got more in tuned with his ability Tommy realized that he was gifted with the ability of foreshadowing.
Unlike most peoples belief he saw glimpses of the future in certain situations but these brief flashes were enough to help him become more aware of his surroundings and the people in his space. This created a super sense of awareness.
For many years Tommy thought that he lost his ability but on his eighteenth birthday he got a flash of many things all at once. The first vision showed him his mother crying and kneeling on the ground. In his mind Tommy saw this like a movie being fast forward. The scene cut to a water view and tall palm trees. A quick cut again it was a scene of him speaking in front an assembly of some sort.
Tommy was baffled by the things he was seeing. As the night progressed Tommy’s friend wanted to show him a good time. They arranged a party at a mutual friends house. It was there that one of his friends had tried to give Tommy cocaine. But paying attention to his earlier flashes it all made sense to him now. He was seeing alternatives of his actions or consequences. The first was his mom reacting to the news of his death. The second was the view from his honeymoon suite. The last was him accepting the Nobel prize.
In reality we have choices daily that define our lives but could just redefine that moment choose wisely and your dreams may become your reality.
by redclay | Jan 2, 2020 | Creative Writing, Detention Center Writing Contests, Poetry
A Black Boy Born the Fall of 1980, What is Blackness
Aaron Connelley
Heard/Arlington County Detention Facility writing contest, August 2019
A proud influence and example of success gained was right in front of me the whole time, Blackness.
The Contrast of a Gold Nugget Watch against Midnight black skin
was a silent way to say I’m Proud
even though times for me have been trying.
The Black suit work to work
The Polished dress shoes
The Pride earned from years of hard investments
The limousine drove for a successful thriving Black Owned Business
For me to Embrace a Culture which has produced
Generation to Generation of Strength by
Standing on Faith and the Strong Willpower of Black Men/Women
with tight jaws facing injustices, that smile even though,
is my pain misunderstood also silent.
A lot has been unsaid.
Schools filtered what about my Blackface,
the sufferage, the Family dynamic that was disrupted and broken
enslaved never to be set Free
also to be Equal given a fair change after Emancipation.
No one wanted to explain the reason I was found in a common law adoption
probably never to know of the Lands of Ancestors originated.
The truth that they were brought Literally to an adopted Land themselves.
The Gold bracelet that was worn on the right wrist
A picture, Black & White of a Mother and Father posing side by side unsmiling.
Their chocolate skin draped in the nicest dress wear
A Black couple could obtain in the year, 1912
A Dollar Bill Enclosed inside the frame below
Serious melancholy Faces which sat atop a Bookshelf
Inside the zen inside our home
A lighter Hue my own complexion told Another secret.
Never, was I told I was weaker or that success couldn’t be mine.
This Ethnicity I Embrace, my Blackness
For all the unknown Silent messages
my immaturity wouldn’t allow the communication
from one Generation to the next did I miss a lesson, yes.
While I grow with interest for coming Generations
kissed with a Blackface,
concerned because the struggles will be real,
beginning to Erase ignorance within myself I too must pass on
A Silent message through action and example
Rather than not tell colored babies about their Black History,
Strengthen their knowledge about the Building Blocks
which from visions formed
the Pyramids in Africa
to the design of stones used to create the Washington Monuments
created within Black and Proud Minds
Rather than hold back because of Pain or Hurt.
Let’s empower the strength the Negro Skin exemplifies.
The Sacrifices, the torn Backs, the inequalities, the non-violent movements
in time against a Profound ignorance,
the stands took, the sit downs to disrupt injustice
was the Silent Cry in the Eyes of A Black Proud Man
right in front of me the whole time,
Blackness
I Ask that you Smile knowing the Silent message has been discovered…
by redclay | Dec 25, 2019 | Creative Writing, Detention Center Writing Contests, Non-fiction
Land of the Free
Marlan Barrington
Heard/Arlington County Detention Facility writing contest, August 2019
How can we call this the land of the free? When we have a major human rights issue, we have more people incarcerated than any other nation in the world. How was this nation ever great or ever will be great? The honest answer to that is, it never was great and maybe in due time this nation can become great, this nation treats its people like numbers more than they are treated like actual human beings and that just isn’t humane. I believe it’s time for a change from these outdated laws and lawmakers whose mind states are in an outdated time period, things in this era change fast and I believe certain things such as laws and people should change just as fast to keep up with the climate, as they say in Jamaica “Ah young people time now”.
I believe drug abusers should receive more mental health care, not jail time. Jail doesn’t provide the right means to rehabilitation for an abuser, it adds pressure and stress that builds up in a person. This causes them to relapse when they are released from incarceration, the War on Drugs was a failure considering drug use was on the decline before the “war” was declared, and the drug that boosted the “war” was “Crack”, which didn’t mysteriously hit the streets till sometime after the “War on Drugs” was declared, there were two “wars” that was declared but the one involving the Contras is the one that turned its people into monsters.
If we put the same amount of energy into helping those who need it mentally, that we put into trying to arrest them and properly rehabilitate them, we would have a much better society, I believe honestly feel that the jail/prison system should be for violent offenders, such as murderers, rapists, child molesters, etc. As a capitalistic nation there’s other ways to make money besides Mass Incarceration, which is hurting us, putting out a bad image of us to the rest of the world, making our nation look just as some of the same nation we look down on such as those in the Middle East.
How can we say we want world peace when we don’t even have peace within our own nation? Once we as a nation find our sense of community things can start to improve and problems will begin to find the best humane solutions. Some issues shouldn’t be issues in this nation, such as the sickening issue of homelessness. Those in need of assistance can be placed in facilities with or provide them with social work programs, to which they can complete and get on their feet. America is a capitalistic nation, we would want people to spend money, so why not give them what we want them to spend, at the same time boosting the economy, reducing the homeless numbers and also reducing unemployment rate.
The education system needs some improvement also, instead of when our youths grow up and enter the real world running into stressful situation, schools should start from Junior High School teaching kids about taxes, interest, mortgage, investments, debt, credit, and trades, so we can properly prepare them for the future. The money spent on the “Space Force” is insane. If aliens are real, how are we so sure they are a threat when history says our nation is usually the threat, or how do we know there will be some sort of galactic battle? Even the extreme amount of money we put into our military can be used for better things and the betterment of America’s social climate, Also since this is a capitalist nation, putting money to the society will increase education and jobs encouraging more workers, which would result in more money for the nation. Equality can’t be a quality without unity in the community!!
by redclay | Dec 25, 2019 | Creative Writing, Detention Center Writing Contests, Non-fiction
Shopping While Black
Phillip Anderson
Nonfiction, Heard/Arlington County Detention Facility, August 2019
When walking into the room, the smell was uplifting the warm air made me feel comfortable. Just the smell of fresh fabric was enlightening to the environment. The salesman and woman were very nice and welcoming with smiles on their faces.
The layout and display of clothing was eye opening, the mannequins were very well styled which tells me the visual is creative. As I walk through the department store the music was relaxing. With nothing less than luxury brands surrounding me me me just want to shop.
As I get to the sportswear section to the far right back of the store, I noticed an army green silk Dries Van Nuton suit. My first thought was “I’m here for a client not myself.” Nuton happens to be my favorite sportswear designer.
As I’m admiring the silk luxury green fabric on the inexpensive suit (it was on sale) an young black sales man approaches with an very expensive Gucci suit in hand. He smiles and says, I have a better option in blue. Of course I checked it out, the only difference was the color and of course the price tag (Because it wasn’t an sale item)
Like most salesman who work off commission he’s trying to make me believe the suit he’s holding is better option because hes the person working in the high end store so hes right and of course to make more money for himself and the store today.
I went into a deep thought while still listening and being very polite…
“I’m a visionary, I see things others don’t in themselves. I’m very creative but quite, a really heavy thinker. I can listen to 12 conversations at once and still think through everything. I’m very well dressed also know what works for others, as far as clothing. Outrageously talented in seeing through people in their true colors a great observer. Most people think Im an easy target but I’m like a bullseye hard to hit home.”
This guy is trying his hardest. Very interesting piece I say to the well dressed salesman. The scent of his cologne was Satel 33 a very intruding and expensive smell. I simply thanked him for his opinion and moved on with my purchase.
While walking back to the front of the dimly lit store towards the register I noticed another mannequin with 3 amazing David Yurman bracelets, none of which on display for sale. I thought “Damn just the pieces I need to complete the look. Once I reached the register I noticed an older white guy standing about 6’3 dark hair blue eyes, wearing a navy colored suit white button up shirt with a red tie. His first words were…”How are you paying” with no emotion but a very stern look in his eyes. I thought hmmm, “No how are you”. “Did you find everything ok” or “Who helped you with your purchase” being that they do again work off of sales. I then realized he looked me up and down, I’m wearing a comfortable gray Nike tech sweat suit with blue and white Nike running shoes. I’m a little flamboyant with my mannerisms but not too much, just kind of in my shopping element but I’m almost sure he noticed I was Gay, and of course Black.
I went on to say I’m interested in your stores studio services.” Studio Services is a service most stores offer to creditable wardrobe stylist. He says this location doesn’t offer that service. Once I got that response I asked for the manager Chris which whom I work with all of the time who by all means know me very well and offered me these services on several locations and yes I’ve used.
My warm uplifting feeling all turned around now I’m feeling angry and very unhappy. After realizing I knew more than he thought, he started to try to explain he misunderstood what I was asking and he’ll be happy to help me. However at that point I figured I’ll deal with him later being I was pushing for time, I pulled out my card and ID, made my purchase and headed for the door.
What was supposed to be a very productive working day turned out to be very disappointing and stereotypical.
The following day I contacted Chris made him aware of my experience and he comped me my entire purchase. Moreover just because I didn’t lost my cool and act as expected I received a very expensive suit on the sake on me just keeping my cool. After being judged on who I am and what he thought I stood for, which I’m sure he thought was “NOTHING.”
STAND FOR NOTHING
YOU’LL FALL FOR ANYTHING.
by redclay | Dec 25, 2019 | Creative Writing, Detention Center Writing Contests, Non-fiction
Untitled – Non-fiction
Aaron Connnelley
Second place, Nonfiction, Arlington County Detention Facility, August 2019
Ima look back on my life and roar with laughter if my frail body allows me to do so. I can see me now khakis, suspenders, a fishermans hat and orthapedic New Balance somewhere in a rocker. No smokes, no 1800 vodka or Remy 1738. Why, because I gave all that up a long time ago. My hope is I’ll see some grandkids and maybe some great-grands. Humph.
Let me tell you about my Pop-Pop. Truth is I can’t wait to see him in heaven. I want to see 2-Pac too but first I need to talk to Pop-Pop. When Pop-Pop died I was just a kid. Was he spiritual I dont know. I didn’t see him in a church until his funeral. He looked peaceful in his blue three peace suit with matching tie. See he had this blue ring around each of his eyes from the cadiracs. I’d miss looking in his face as he gave me a toothy grin. He didn’t care to much for his partials.
The truth is I’ve been lost and stressed. When will I find my peace. Let me tell you some more about Pop-Pop. His grandparents were slaves. He witnessed the movement of civil rights. Somehow during the pressures of the times he found his place in a crazy world. His trade a mason working with bricks, stone and concrete laying a nest egg while providing for his family. Not biologically connected to the family tree his wife extended herself and their home to a innocent baby produced from ignorance, youthfulness and the naievity of a sixteen year old child, my mother.
Pop-Pop, I wish you could’ve told me what the good fight was all about or so I didn’t continuously fail repeating foolish behavior. Left just a note detailing how to manuver in a cruel world until I grew myself I wouldn’t get it. If he ever did suffer it wasn’t for him to share with a boy. His brain was stronger in the end that his sight so while the evening news broadcast detailed the war on drugs then in a sense the epodimic touched my mother causing her to escape responsibility leaving me as a addition to his home.
As a little boy I watched uncle “J” as I called him, Pop-pop’s son tend his garden located behind the house. In summer watermelons, peas, tomatoes, tall corn stalks. I dashed through the rows until I fell tierd in the grass exausted but content unaware of the true meaning I lived in Pop-Pop’s home. I can’t forget the grapevine aside the back garage, the rose bush with thorns I’d better watch for as I circled the house running at top speeds as fast as my short legs would allow me. Pop-Pop had made it though navigating in a world through world wars.
Oh I didn’t tell you about the two rifles I found in his bedroom closet. I’ll save that for another time.
One time PopPop with his failing eyesight drove me three blocks to school in a nice Caddilac he’s kept in his garage. I knew he kept a liquor bottle hidden in the kitchen in the top cabbinet. Was it rasicm, was it marriage, was it having a cancer that was slowly eating away at his life. I got some questions for him.
So, Pop-Pop dies I moved. Still little in a grown up world I didn’t understand. As I tell you all this I know, one day Ima be able to lean back and laugh so hard that tears fill my eye’s unashamed to fall because I’m happy not now though. No way I can laugh. Ain’t shit funny. Its not a game. I feel like its me or its you.
Life isn’t easy. I hooked up with some people started smoking cigs smoking weed and drinking. I lost intrest in school. Began to hang out with some other not so interested people. Hanging out turned into putting in work. The living situation I was in couldn’t contain a hurt looking for exceptance growing boy. The streets excepted me at least I thought so. The game will use you up and discard of you in a jail cell or a deep grave.
A negative energy has covered me. A man-child in a place dark as a black screen. Bitting my nails placing the bit nails in a neat pile. I need to get myself together. Lost in addiction holding on to my life with a thin thread. Let me pray maybe someones listening. Why am I in this abandoned place all alone. Hope Pop-pop cant see me like this. I’ve embraced ignorance. After I crawled out for some air the revelation is in the end of carelessness, self-pity, addiction, alcohalism, drug-use, sex out of marraige, incarceration and personal abuse. The insanity.
I choose even though I was served a bloody hand dealt challenges which come in forces of negativity. I will reflect the good and the bad. Journey into tommorrow’s with sure confidence. The reason I cried will be the significance that one day I will laugh. Successful like Pop-Pop (a black man) against all odd’s made it through. In the end yes, one day I will laugh with tears of joy and then share with all the history of my Pop-Pop and of the Malcolms, the Martins, the Mandelas, the Marcus’s, the Micheals, the Marvins that made it. I wont segregate the truth of our history but allow knowledge to set the chains free untieing the oppressing demonds of the past, present and future. Yea, one day I will laugh.
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