Prison. I’ve been here so long, I don’t even remember what I did wrong. I could have robbed a national bank, attempted to assassinate a US ambassador, or what. I wouldn’t know. The only thing I remember was what I left: family and friends. Them, and the wardens, from all of my previous venues. On my first day in state prison (at the time I was located in Los Angeles, CA), I was welcomed by my first warden.
A “gentleman” older and taller than me, was waiting for me as I walked through the gates of the prison. I was already wearing my beige prisoner suit that hung loosely, everywhere. I was expecting to pass him, but before I could, he yanked me backwards by my pony-tail. I was caught off guard and was sent hurdling backwards, tripping over
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But something that set me off was I also felt his right leg slide behind mine. How predictable?! He was trying to do the same thing I did to the warden! And with that, I dislocated his ligament. That, or I fractured it. Either way, it must have hurt like a bitch, and he wailed out in pain. I let go of him, causing him to fall to the floor. Two other guards came running down my hallway, each on opposite ends of it. They both brought out a pair of handcuffs. It’s funny, because if they had just cuffed me after I had finished getting into my prison-uniform, we wouldn’t be in this mess. Anyway, they caught me (after I gave them a fight to remember) and after consulting the justice system, they moved to the next closest state prison. This one, however, was located in Lancaster, CA. So basically since then, I’ve been giving all the guards hell, except for Sinthia. who’s my favorite guard ever. She doesn’t give me shit, and she even gives me decent meals, whenever I’m in solitary confinement. By that, I mean, she sneaks in a real bed roll. The bread rolls I get when she doesn’t supply me with them, are long past rotten and moldy. But it’s worth it if the guards don’t mess with me