LIFE : a Short Story by Keaidy Bennett
After this super busy weekend, I feel so recharged and ready to go! I just have so many wild ideas and stories running through my head. It's too bad that the way I support my kid and I seems to cut into my creative vibe when I feel like this.
The only thing I wish people understood about artists, is that when we feel inspired we cannot ignore our body's natural urge to create. While those who appreciate my work also appreciate my dedication, I'm sure my employer hates when my mind finally wins the battle. That's because my sword and I work feverishly to take these stories out of my head and on to paper even if that means I'm not as productive as I should be.
Anyways, this story was incessant today. I knew from how nasty my attitude changed for the worst by mid morning that I needed to get this thing out of me, so here it is.
***************************
I can’t believe I’m spending
another day of my life in this hell hole.
What
could I possibly have done in a past life to deserve this? I’m impatiently
waiting for these four walls to one day close in on me so I could finally be
put out of my misery. That seems to be the only relief I find in this endless
cycle.
I spend
most of my days on lock down like some kind of animal. I’m told when to
eat, and I constantly have eyes on me. I can’t even take a shit or
entertain a complete thought without someone knowing about it.
“Get
out of the clouds 3375907, and get to work,” the guard who was so well trained
that she was practically robotic screamed out at me. “Your job isn’t going to
do itself,” the rude bitch had the nerve to add.
As you
can see, I’m not even afforded the luxury of respect around this place. They
honestly seem to think that just because I made a few mistakes in my life that
I’m no longer deserving of my dignity. I guess that’s why I’m known by a
number, I’m told when I’m allowed to do anything, and I’m only given little
samples of freedom when they think I deserve it. I really fucking hate this
place
“Yo
Johnson,” my cellmate whispered loudly causing me to snap out of my reoccurring
day dream where I finally bust out of here. “Don’t sweat that broad. She’s just
salty about some shit that I just heard. I’ll drop the 411 once we’re out
on the yard.” 3390917, Sonya Ortiz, is as sarcastic as she is old. Don’t ask
her how old she is though because she’ll just use that as an excuse to start
beefing with you. Don’t even bother trying to guess on your own because every time
you think you have figured out how old she is she’ll just introduce you to a
slang term from a different century and leave you confused all over again.
Regardless of how crazy she is, I appreciate her energy since it seems to be
the only light in this dark place. While she has many enjoyable qualities, she
also has her not so great ones. She always craves things that she shouldn’t
have and that addiction causes her to go to extreme measures to get what she
wants no matter the cost. Unfortunately for her, her envy keeps her enslaved in
this same system I’m stuck in. That is the good part for me since I can’t
imagine a day in here without her wild, cynical humor.
“What
ya’ll busy whispering about,” Robocop shouted out interrupting our brief peace.
“Didn’t I tell ya’ll to get busy?”
Yes you
sure did. As if our lives are not pathetic enough, we're forced to listen to
you say the same things all day every day. I’m starting to believe it’s the
only thing you’re capable of doing with your life. Oh how I long for the day
when I’ll never have to hear those words or see your face ever again.
As if
the universe wanted to reward me with a little hope and relief, a dispute cause
Porky to have to harass someone else for a change.
“I don’t
know why that bitch is always trying to read you so hard, but I can’t wait
until you finally snap and give her the business. She is long overdue to be
checked,” 3350154, Paris Sparkle, added quickly as she walked back to her cell.
Of course being as fierce and fabulous as she is, she had to make her exit just
as dramatic. “We’re almost free since it’s about to be time for lunch. I’ll
give you all of my desert if you treat that hoe with a well-deserved
punch,” she sang softly before erupting into laughter.
Yes,
Paris Sparkle is really her name. After she finally transitioned from a man to
the natural queen that she was born to be, that was the name she chose for
herself. While I don’t agree with why out of all of the names in the world she
would have chosen that one, I don’t have to answer to it so I don’t see why
anyone else gives a damn .
“Sit
down, shut up, and get to work,” the pig shouted out form across the end of the
hall.
Even
though I was stuck in these bleak four walls, I could imagine her
expression as she looked at Sparkle in disgust like she always did. I even
overheard her mumble things like “ queer” and “fag” under her breath when the
fierce queen herself would parade by as if she were walking a New York runway.
One day I was curious enough to ask her why she seemed to be so repulsed by a
human who decided to be free enough to live a life she truly loved, and she
responded frankly, “It’s against my beliefs.” Honestly, I think it’s just
because without any effort Sparkle makes a better woman than the pig who was
actually born one.
“Mira,
Johnson,” Ortiz said to get my attention again. “The queen is right. That puta
does seem to have it out for you even more now than before. What’s up?”
“Nothing,”
I lied like I did every time they asked me that question. Although I get along
well with all of the prisoners on my block, I’m no dummy. I know these people
live for drama and gossip, and they will not get any information for their
issues from me. I, Kimberly Johnson, am too smart for that, so I keep my
secrets with the only person I trust – myself.
Truthfully,
Senora Bacon and I grew up together. Growing up I was always more popular and
respected then her from our neighborhood friends even up to when I became the
captain of our step, basketball, and dance teams. I always used to brag that I
was a boss, and now that she is one when it actually matters she never misses
an opportunity to flex her powers around here. I really fucking hate that
bitch.
I’m
honestly not a bad or hateful person, I just made some really poor choices and
that’s why I’m where I am at this point in my life. As a part of my spiritual
growth, I acknowledge my responsibility in my own demise, and I'm working as
diligently as I can to change it. Regardless of that fact, I really fucking
hate this point in my life.
Anyways,
I create stories to help keep my mind off of the hell that I’m stuck in. I know
it sounds insane, but I hope that one day all of these words that I put
together can somehow create the key that saves me from this place. A woman can
dream right?
“Line
up for lunch,” Porky squealed out. “I’m starting your timer for your break
now!” That was nothing new. She always found some way to squeeze undeserving
time out of us, but who can you complain to when all of these pigs looked out
for one another?
I lined
up to rush and enjoy my much need date with Mother Nature. I can’t get enough
of how romantic it is when she courts me. Her warmth and the feeling of her
presence on my skin is enough to recharge me and give me life. Sadly that
feeling doesn't last once I’m restricted back to those four dreary walls that
seem to take pleasure in sucking it out of me again.
The
thought of dancing with freedom was enough to spark my small creative flame
into a full-fledged inferno, and the words running through my mind began to
tango beautifully together.
Like a kid on Christmas, I'm anxious from the excitement
Your presence alone is enough to seriously brightenMy day, my night, and my life.
I yearn for each moment I get to see, hear, feel, smell or taste you.
Before
I got a chance to complete my thought, Ortiz interrupts me as we sit down to
eat lunch.
“So
rumor has it that Porky’s man was caught poking one of the inmates, and you
know what that means,” she continued to ramble on not even bothering to take a
bite of the food she claimed to have wanted so desperately just a few minutes
ago.
“Bitch
yes,” Sparkle interjected joyfully. “That means he has got to go, and she gets
to be tortured while we give her nothing by shade while she’s stuck with us. Oh
thank you Lord for Ortiz spilling this tea. This just made my whole life
complete.”
The two
women kept talking while I would throw in an, “uh huh,” or “wow,” every now and
then just so they thought I was paying any attention to their cattiness. That
was until I could no longer ignore my mind’s request to finish the dance of
words it was longing to get back to.
I yearn for each moment I get to see, hear, feel, smell, or taste you.
I need your touch.The freedom I feel in your brief embrace gives me hope that this will one day grow from some silly affair
That only happens here and there
To something more
“Hello,”
Sparkle said as she frantically waved her arms in front of my face to get my
attention. “Did you hear anything that I just said?”
I was
honest, and just shook my head no.
“I
wonder who the hell his dingy, dirty, raggedy ass was creeping with.”
“Oh
yeah, me too,” I lied as I tried to sound interested in their conversation.
“I bet
it was Jessica,” Sparkle suggested. “The way that big booty bitch has been
singing and skipping around here so cheerfully just screams that she’s been
getting some new dick.”
“I
second that,” Ortiz chimed in. “That jive turkey has been so busy trying to sew
her oats from the moment I met her. She's suck a fucking harlot.”
“Uh
huh,” I added hoping they wouldn’t feel me slipping out of their boring world
back into the universe I wish I could spend all of my time in.
Ortiz
spit out a few more of her outdated slang terms, and Sparkle seemed to be
eating it all up, so I thought I was safe to make a quick mental escape.
The freedom I feel in your brief embrace gives me hope that this will one day grow from some silly affair
That only happens here and thereTo something more.
I need that.
I need that as much as I need your essence that leaves me hypnotized.
And I need that as much as-,"
“Damn
bitch you actin’ like a true bum today since you’re acting like you’re too broke
to afford to pay attention. What’s got you so distracted that you can’t enjoy
these last few moments with us?”
Sparkle’s
question struck fear in me as I frantically searched for the clock above the
door that confirmed that my date with freedom and Mother Nature was in fact
damn near over.
“Nothing,”
I lied again. “I just enjoy hearing what you two clowns think about the
situation.”
“Well
what you think about it,” Sparkle asked me with wide eyes as she sat on the
edge of her seat for my response.
I don’t
care at all, I forced myself to swallow every time I opened my mouth.
However, since only God knows how long I’m actually stuck with these people I
can’t answer them how I really want to.
“I
think Porky is coming over here to rain on our parade,” I finally respond.
As if
she had heard my statement, she screamed for everyone to line up for another
count before we made our way back to our cells.
Once we
reached our destination, I was relieved that Ortiz didn’t want to talk anymore.
I think she was exhausted from spending our longest break running her mouth
like the Boston marathon. Whatever her reasoning for finally being quiet, I was
just thrilled to be all alone with my thoughts.
Like a kid on Christmas, I'm anxious from the excitement
My day, my night, and my life.
I yearn for each moment I get to see, hear, feel, smell, or taste you.
I need your touch.
The freedom I feel in your brief embrace gives me hope that this will one day grow from some silly affairThat only happens here and there
To something much more.
I need that.
And I need that as much as I need the air that you provide.
I need you.
While your existence only presents itself to me in short burstsThe reality that I'll one day be free gives what I do daily worth.
Until I'm able to see you again
My friend
Every part of me will be aching to be reunited with you
And your skies that you seem to always keep well tidy and blue
Every part of me will be lusting for the feel of your breeze
That touch that only you can provide to leave me weak in the knees
Every part of me will be trapped in hell until your presence frees me once more.
I threw
my head back in a fit of evil laughter. It was the sound a beast makes once it’s conquered the wild words
that were running rampant in the poor writer’s mind.
My
moment of victory was interrupted as Porky’s lips gifted my ears with a
surprise treat.
“Lights
out,” is what I heard even though her lips had just told everyone to clock out.
“I’ll see you all back here bright an early for another day of work,” she
grinned what I perceived to be a defeating smile.
Ugh.
Please don’t remind me.
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