August 28, 1998
Love & Hate
by Liz D
March 21, 1998
The thing I loved to do was to go out with my homegirls and just be mischievous. Go out and rob people, damage property, steal cars, get in fights and just get high.
I didn't do this out of anger or resentment towards anybody. I just did this because I considered it fun. This kind of behavior was expected from me. Police, teachers, sometimes even my own parents expected this from me. I did it without thinking twice or holding any guilt in my conscience about it.
The situation I hated the most happened not too long ago. One night one of my homegirls came to my house all beaten up. She was bruised and bleeding from everywhere. Some girls had jumped her and stolen her money and gold. I hated that situation a lot because I was very mad and full of anger and there was nothing I could do about it at that moment.
At that moment I realized that I hated what I loved to do—which is very confusing. I guess that's what they mean when they say it's a thin line between love and hate.
My Ride On The County Bus
Lathisha M
February 19, 1998
Every time I go to court riding on the sheriff's bus it is a new experience. Before I go to court I have to mentally psych myself up for the trip.
I have to get up at five am to meet the 5:30 deadline. I get real nervous and I am also very afraid. When I get to the gym my mind is wandering as I am waiting for the sheriffs to come. I know that the sheriffs are here by the clanging of the chains. When I hear those chains, that's when my fear overwhelms me. I feel numb and I feel as if I am not really here. I watch the sheriffs as they shackle the boys, meaning handcuff them. I watch the chains as if they were snakes. The snake-like chains encircle their victims wrists and waists.
The time has come for the snakes to wrap around me. I feel their bodies tightening on my waist and I begin to suffocate. My shoulders are put into an uncomfortable position.
As I step into the bus I am put into a cage as if I am a dangerous animal. The bus smells of last night's passengers body odor. I immediately feel nauseated. My stomach is doing 360 degree turns.
I arrive at the county jail and I am transferred to the bus that is going to take me to court. I am now again placed back in a cage. Now here are the inmates of the county jail. The inmates display mean and lustful glares at me. The eyes of the men undress me. The men say derogatory things to me and they make me feel like a piece of meat.
Cuts Like A Knife
Latisha M
March 5, 1998
My past is what cuts into my heart like a knife. All of the years that I had to endure sexual molestation from my stepfather cuts my soul like a knife.
When I was six years old I was molested by my stepfather whom I loved and worshipped. My childhood innocence was cut by a knife from a person who had no right to do that to me.
The relationship between my mother and I was cut like a knife. My mother refused to believe that this wonderful man would take the innocence away from a pure child.
That was over twelve years ago. I refuse to let my past cut my mind, my soul and my relationship with my mom like a knife.
Daddy's Little Girl
Vivian C
March 5, 1998
Daddy's little girl, that's what my daddy would write me in his letters. Every week the mailman would bring me a letter from Blyth Prison. Every week I would look forward to his letters with my little heart pumping with joy.
As soon as I would read it, I loved my daddy more and more. I wrote him until the tenth year of my life. Then my dad was home. No more letters of joy, no more pain I had to write, no pictures to send. I could not touch my daddy and see him. Six years of distant love to a daddy I adored. I was finally gonna meet him once again.
But all those letters, all that love he sent me, all those letters were broken promises, lies, betrayal. So many lies. My daddy didn't love me anymore. I blamed myself. I didn't grow up the way he wanted me to. He practically abandoned me.
Even though years have passed I still think my daddy will see me and love me again. Now that I'm in jail I think and hope and I pray every night that he will send a letter and tell me once again I'm daddy's little girl.
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