prisonstories

[prisonstories]

Y’all ever have these nightmares... where you fuck up and get sent back to the joint? Like you doing good then accidentally kill somebody in a moment of passion. Just a reaction. An impulse. And then you realize what you’ve just done and now your heart is beating and all you can think of to do is run... But you know it’s just a matter of time before they get you. And you’re like wtf did I just do. If you had only had more time to think before reacting. “I mean, I’m smart! “ But damn, you also have this problem where you just lose it. And now you ain’t going to see your kids anymore, your woman, your family. Everybody is going to be disappointed in you. Damn, you were doing so good, staying out of trouble, building something better...

These pesadillas usually happen for me like in the morning before I am getting ready to wake up... And, during the worst of them, I do wake up... and for a second or two I don’t want to open my eyes. In the haziness of waking, coming out of the sleep state, I am scared because I don’t know if I am going to find myself in a prison cell or my bed at home... heart beating hard. I try to listen for clues to where I might be. But I have to open my eyes.

Whoa, shit!! I’m in my bed. Wtf just happened, damn. Be thankful that we are here... and not there. Live your life to the fullest because tomorrow isn’t promised. Find something or someone to love.

[prisonstories]

So I was 17, just rode into level 3... 4 is max, 5 is super max. 2, 1, and camps were for the small crimes and baby rapers. So 3 is where you started off if you had to do I nice bit (bid).

Anyways... I was in a six-man cubical which is rare for a level 3. 3’s and up were usually one or two-man cells.

I was the new kid... once a week a bus full of people rode in. This big moreno kept calling me “Young Blood”. I told him that wasn’t my name. Twice. The third time I called him out of his name. He didn’t want no smoke. I looked like a 16-yr-old “boy” ripe for the picking. Jaja. But my voice showed no fear... and my fists were ready to back it up. For real. Most convicts will tell you... coming from the county jail they have you juiced up, ready to smash a mofo! Lol. “Little vato, the first mafucca that try to test you, you got to make an example out of him...”

I had been there a few days now, and it was cleanup time. Once a week they came by with trash bags and brooms, etc. I was the only one in the cubicle at the time... I started cleaning, thought I’d help everybody out by emptying all the little trash buckets.

Thirty minutes later one of the guys in my cubicle, an older, karate-body moreno, comes back from work or something. He’s like, “who emptied my trash?” I did. Then he comes with the play:

“Ese, what the fuck you do? I had some dope in there. That’s where I stash my shit sometimes. You can’t be touching another man’s shit. That’s my trash.” It sounded fishy from the jump. Who gonna hide their shit in the trash where anybody could get it. Cubicles don’t have doors. I just “look” like a succa I guess. At any rate, I told him “my bad.” But now he talking about I owe him; That I’m gonna have to pay him back one way or the other. Whenever somebody says “one way or the other”, that is an innuendo. They’re saying if you ain’t got the money, you gonna pay with ass. It’s kind of just a saying, because even vatos that don’t get down like that say it.

So now I got to dig in... stand my ground. I let him know, I ain’t about to pay you shit. He says I am, and he’s willing to fight over it. I’m gonna call that bluff. “Whatever you want to do,” I tell him. He starts cussing under his breath. I wait, to see what he’s going to do. I wanted to lay on my bunk, relax. But now I have to stay on guard, be ready. Make sure he sleeps before I do.

Long story short, he apologized the next day. He could read I was tense and I think he was worried that I was going to make a move on him. In prison, you can’t even ACT like you want beef because the next vato will try to get you first. I could tell he was one of those guys that was “comfortable”. He didn’t want to end up going to the hole and having to start over again.

Small lesson, but I learned: don’t touch nobody’s shit, even if it’s their trash. 😂

[prisonstories]

Dopey

Raza was tight on the yard… at the Reformatory. One of the vatos was getting transferred. Nothing new. I was calling the shots and had been for a few years. Word got back to me that an Aryan Brotherhood puto was running his mouth. I guess the vato that rode out (Rodriguez) had owed Dopey some feria, so him and his bros apparently checked in ol’ boy’s radio (the old school radios were treasures back then… you couldn’t even buy them anymore)… So an old head asked me, “What you gonna do, A.D.?” Rodriguez hadn’t even really been a part of our cipher. He was a loner… messed more with the whites and blacks than with us. Still, I couldn’t let word get around that the Aryan Brotherhood was checking shit in from raza… I had a soldier shoot some words out to Rodriguez to get the real scoop. We waited.

We started making plans. Dopey worked in the kitchen with us. I didn’t have nothing against the vato but he done fucked up. I counseled with Indio, a Mexica brother who I had much respect for. Fuck it, we weren’t going to wait on Rodriguez to respond. Whatever the case, Dopey shouldn’t have been talking shit. I called Dopey over, asked him about the situation. He held his ground. Said he did what he had to do… okay cool.

Plans were getting put into play… The next day Dopey asked to talk to me, in private. He said he didn’t want any trouble. He confessed that it had all been a lie. He started the rumor to save face in front of his brothers. Rodriguez had owed him a bunch of money and basically told him to “get paid.” So he lied about taking a radio. He had really bought it from Rodriguez… Damn! Poor fella. He wasn’t “bout it”, but it was too late to stop what was already in motion.

I decided I was going to due the dirt. Indio tried to talk me out of it, as members of raza always did. I was the head, I shouldn’t be in the thick of it. Protect the head. But I never listened. I relished in the opportunity to set an example for others. Louie wanted in. King Louie. We were from different sets, but at level 4 maximum security, raza stuck together… Indio would be the clean up guy. Again, I got much respect for the elders, I didn’t want him in the action. Then, the day it was set to go down, Country wanted in. I was suspicious. White boy. I thought he was cool with Dopey. But he was jam with Indio. Indio gave me the nod that he was good. I hate surprises, but okay.

The plan went accordingly. Country lured Dopey into the back. The bread room. Out of site of guards. Country was a big boy, he rocked Dopey but Dopey didn’t fall. That was our cue. Louie ran in and started shanking Dopey in the head, as Dopey was pushed face first against the wall. I came in and stared stabbing him in the back. Honestly, he was just an example, I wasn’t trying to kill him. So the back was as good as a place as any, not the kidneys or stomach or side. I didn’t want to hit internals. Not the neck, or eyes, or face… Louie was trying to do some damage though. Lol. In the midst of it, he made a comment that the shank kept sliding down (preventing him from getting a strong hit). He had a straight piece of rounded metal. A spike. We had on rubber gloves. Despite the commotion I was able to instruct him, “put your thumb behind the shank!” Crazy now that I look back at it. At any rate, my advice worked. A half a dozen more quick stabs and Dopey finally sank to the floor.

We walked out, stripped out of our kitchen whites (which were now covered in spots of blood). We even had shoes protectors. Everything off and into a bag. New whites on. Indio took our shanks which were quickly transferred into a drain. We scattered. Nobody wanted to be there when Dopey was discovered…

I was leaning against the wall by the kitchen staff office… and to my surprise here comes Dopey. Shit! He looked gruesome. Being so white, it accentuated the streams of blood coming off the top of his head and over his face. I prepared myself… he was coming closer. If I was in his shoes I’d make one last ditch effort at “getting back”. My hands were folded in front of me but I was ready as ever. Dopey walked right by me and went into the office.

Well, he was taken to the infirmary, and then to “protection.” An investigation started of course. Several Nation of Islam guys were taken to the hole. That was weird. Why would Dopey tell on them? Or maybe he was keeping quiet and the administration was just guessing… All of us involved had our stuff packed and were ready in the chance that the guards came for us. We half way expected it. We laid low for days. The general pop knew what went down. Word spreads fast. But so far nobody had shot a kite… Big 50 wanted to talk to me on the yard. He was one of the heads of the Nation. We took a lap while we both had several soldier in tow. “A.D. We know what happened. A couple of our brothers were taken to the hole. One of them is short and will be denied parole because of this incident. No disrespect but we need you guys to turn yourself in.” I laughed right in his face. You talking crazy, Bro. Ain’t nobody turning themselves in. Those were my exact words. We are always ready to go to war with whoever! Then he tried to negotiate. He wanted me to give them Country. The white boy. They at least wanted to take out Country. Fuck no! Country was with us now. Nobody was going to touch him. I let it be known. We parted ways, and I put the hermanos on alert. Oh, by the way, the Aryans never said shit other than wanting to know why we took him out.

A few days later they let the Nation guys out of the hole. Dopey wasn’t snitching, and the administration didn’t have proof of anything. However, they had somehow gotten Country’s name. He was called up front. He held his mud… said he didn’t know anything about anything… even after receiving the normal threats. The Nation was still upset. Their guys had lost their jobs in the kitchen, but they got over it.

As for Dopey, he got fucked up for something he didn’t even do, but he shouldn’t have ran his mouth.

[prisonstories]

[prisonstories]

[prisonstories]

[prisonstories]