“Damn it feels good to be getting out of this hell hole today.” I say tearing the linen off my bunk bed and throwing my dirty state blues onto the floor. I had one of the laundry guys steal me a new state uniform from the laundry room so that I can look fresh before I jumped into some real clothes that my girl, Angel bought for me. Knowing how I am, she ordered me a pair of Nike’s last week to step out in. I already had a pair but I usually wear them when she comes to visit. I gave these pair away along with new socks and T-shirts to my niggas who I knew, that wouldn’t be coming home anytime soon. I want to be all the way clean, leaving all of this bullshit behind me and trying to make a real legitimate life for myself. Being incarcerated for six years has changed a lot about me. Coming in, I was a twenty-four year old knuckle head and now I am a thirty year old grown man.
I was watching some old friends of mine play chess in the yard yesterday. They are so close to me that I consider them family. They asked me what was I really going to do once I got out. A lot of niggas are talking shit, basically. They are talking about how much they have changed simply because they have found religion. Others talk tough. They are talking as if they would just do the same things that landed them in here to begin with. I never talk much about my case because I never know who I can trust or who is really listening. However, the streets talk and my friends know that I am in here for drug trafficking, but do not know the details of my case.
Six years ago, Angel and I were moving a lot of dope on the highway from our home in Hampton, Virginia to my home state of Ohio. Angel being mixed with two different ethnicities, Columbian and Black, she was able to relate with the Latin and Spanish dealers who would not do any business with just me. I was only buying half bricks of heroin when I met Angel. Angel was selling cocaine to my uncle, who was the one that brought me here in order to get away from my crazy life back home. I had seen the quality of the cocaine product and sales were great so I had to introduce myself to her. I showed her my character by giving her my savings to buy two bricks of heroin, not knowing if she would ever return. She was taken off guard by my actions and promised to return with my order. The very next day Angel called me and we met up to get my shit. Angel was very much connected through her family and took me out of the dope houses into a half million dollar home. This also meant access to an unlimited amount of dope. Unfortunately, after three years of hustling together, an informant gave up information on Angel.
Angel and I decided to meet up with the informant at the usual spot and the police jumped out on us. I was stunned to see how much work the police put into capturing us. Detectives found two bricks of cocaine in the car and both of our guns. Angel’s face said it all to me. She was scared to death of going behind bars. I had spent a year behind bars before on a drug possession charge. I had to eat this charge for her not knowing what would happen to her behind bars. I loved her enough to take the charge. My main concern was that I did not want her taking down the whole organization in fear of the anticipated interrogation in the near future.
I was upset with her because I told her that I did not want to do business with the informant anymore. It was because I was getting a funny feeling about him. He started to ask questions about pricing for future weight. There would be differences with his price as if he had hooked us up with some other people looking to buy. Just before we left the stash house, I told her how I was feeling about him and now we were staring at each other in the back seat of two separate unmarked police cruisers. I pounded my fist against my forehead knowing that I should have trusted my gut feeling. Angel cried telling me that she was sorry, knowing why I was so upset. I told her not to say a word to the police and signaled with my hand for her to call my uncle and tell him about the situation. I was hoping that he would come down to the county jail to bail me out before my court date. I was told that it is best to go in front of the judge dressed like I am a serious business man in a suit rather than coming in with chains on and a jail jumper.
Arriving at the county jail, I made the detective’s job really easy by admitting to everything. Taking these charges was harder than I thought. Besides that, the rule is to never admit to anything even if the police found the product in your pocket. The detectives told me the amount of time that I would be facing if I take the charges, but I brushed them off with scare tactics. One of them basically told me that he didn’t want me. However, what they really wanted was any contacts or connections I had knowledge of. I sat down reminding myself in my head to keep quiet and prepare myself for the worst.
I waited four months for my uncle to bail me out but he never came. After a few weeks he, stopped answering my calls. The only way I was able to make contact, was when Angel went over to his house to drop off his work. Angel continued to answer my calls, but when I went up before the judge for sentencing, I stood all alone listening to my plea agreement.