I have not done anything in here that I haven’t already done a thousand times. Time sits on my hands like a whale. I’ve come to know how painful a minute can be, and how unbearable each hour. Although I cannot make my understanding any clearer, I understand that time itself is nothing but emptiness, and that a person is not made for emptiness. Minute after minute, day after endless day I sit in my room. The whale lowers itself onto my hands, and I now come to know the long wait of my uncle.
I am a young man of many hopes and dreams. Whether they will come true or not, I cannot tell you. I am almost 18. Late in the night I sit in my room, thinking silently. Thinking about my family, the people I love so much, and the same people I fail to take into consideration when I’m out doing my dirt. When I’m out doing my thing I do not think about how much I will miss them while I’m in here. I wish I could take all the time I’ve spent in here and do it all over again with them instead. I miss them. I just want to go home.
I went to court and sat down in my seat. The D.A. said nothing, just extended my court date and that was that. As I walked off I caught a glimpse of my niece and thought to myself, “Wow! She’s growing up good, but without her uncle that she’ll never get to know.” Tears ran down my face.
And that was it. Back into the hall and my cell I went. With my rap sheet a mile high, rotting away while the time flies by.
The river of life flows rapidly. The waterfall of death falls gently. No one really wants to get to that waterfall, yet we all want out of the insane rapidness of the river. Is it possible there is a side route, leading to a gentle and inviting pond of well-being, happiness and serenity? To take a chance is the only way to find out. The side route is a possibility, but will it lead to the gentle pond you want? Or will it lead to an even closer, less gentle waterfall? Or maybe even another rapid river that takes much longer to reach that waterfall? There is only one way to find out.
I was a girl who thought I could never get into trouble.
I am now a girl sitting in ‘juvi’ thinking, “What happened?”
I will be a girl who learns from her mistakes.
I was a girl that was the apple of her family’s eyes.
I am now the girl that caught them all by surprise.
I will be the girl they have wanted me to be.
I was the girl who got only A’s and B’s.
I am now the girl never seen in her seat.
I will be the girl you wish you could be.
I was the girl doing nothing other than smoking weed.
I am now the girl as sober as can be.
I will be the girl clean and free.
I was the girl thinking, “How could this be?”
I am now the girl seeing that it was all for me.
I will be the girl I want to be!
I just want to run,
Run away from the pain.
I want to get out of this place,
and feel soft sprinkles of rain on my face.
I feel like I am alone,
with nobody on my side.
I just want to fly,
fly away to Cloud Nine.
I am scared, although I hide my fears.
I am sad, although I hide my tears.
I wanted to run,
but yet I stayed.
Now every chance I get,
I shove the world away.
And maybe, just maybe….
I have lost my will to change!
I am a minor sittin’ in the hall.
I wonder when I’ll be able to see them all.
When will I ever get out?
When will I be able to scream and shout?
I am a minor sittin’ in the hall,
because I couldn’t control my alcohol.
My stupidity landed me in this place.
Now I wonder when I’ll see their face.
I am a minor sittin’ in the hall.
The youngest one, of them all.
I’m only 14 and a newlywed,
wondering when I’ll be able to sleep in my own bed.
I am a minor sittin’ in the hall,
with no one out there for me to call.
I used to be that girl, so sweet and nice.
Now I’ve caught everyone by surprise.
I am a minor sittin’ in the hall.
I am alone. I feel like there is nothing for me in the world. I am alone. I lost everything I loved. I am alone. I lost my Dad, he is in jail and it’s my fault. I wish I had just listened to him. Then he would be with my Mom. I am alone. I lost my brothers and sisters. I have 5 brothers and four sisters and 7 of them are in foster care. My older sister is with my Mom; my older brother is in jail. I am alone. I am in ‘juvie’. I can’t help my brothers and sisters, I can’t see them. I am alone, my life sucks. I wish all of this shit never happened to my family. I am alone now, I have nothing to lose. I am alone.
I remember waiting and waiting but that day never came.
Sitting here at my home to claim.
I stare at the white walls but they put me to shame.
Start counting the bricks, then loose count and start again.
But all those bricks do my friend, is hold you back from messing up again.
As you get out, that comfort is gone, and you’re right back to doing wrong.
It is bad deeds, and smoking weed.
I do as I as I feel, feel as I do, but in the end it comes unglued.
I am right back to where I started, staring at the white walls.
They welcome me back home, lost but not gone.
As I am moving back into room 16 again.
The staff yell at me, what a failure.
I blow them off and get my time done.
Within my cell I hear cries; there the tears drop off my side.
I remember waiting and waiting.
Now it is up to my Mom to help me, I am only 15, learning to live.
To do the best I can.
It’s hard, but I can live, got 3 months in ‘juvi’, waiting and waiting.
Then probation will come to take me away,
But not to ‘juvi’, to home, family, and friends.
I was a kid when my Mom would hit me. Those were the worst days of my life. She’d beat me for no reason, just because I was a ‘bad’ child. To her I wasn’t her daughter that she loved and cared for. I was just another person taking up space. I wanted so bad to have her love. Deep down inside I knew that would never happen. She’d whoop me with belts, hangers, even the cord to the vacuum cleaner. She’d scream her head off talking about how crazy I am, saying I was the devil’s child.
Then one day after she beat me I told myself, “Never again will I let this happen to me.” From that point on, every time she would get that look on her face I’d run and hide all the belts I could find. I knew I was by myself, but what could I do about it? Crying at the age of 9 about my Mom beating the hell out of me wouldn’t solve anything.
I’m 15 now, locked up with an anger issue that is out of control and people wonder why I am like this. When you read this don’t feel bad. Just know that you’re not alone.
If you really knew me you would know that when I was born my Father abandoned me. My Mother gave legal guardianship of me to my Grandmother and when I was 12 my Mother tried coming back into my life. If you really knew me you would know that it’s a struggle every day to keep my life ok, there is no end to it, just another beginning. You would know that I’m the one who takes care of my family when it should be that we all take care of one another. You would know that the person who took care of me when I was a baby is now the person I take care of. You would know that I’m only 15 and I already try to fight for what is right. You would know that when I was 12 I was raped by my friend’s uncle and now it’s hard for me to trust guys. I go every day wondering if he is coming my way to do it again. You would know that it’s hard for me being in juvenile hall, missing my boyfriend. Every day, wondering if he is ok. Hoping and praying that when I get out he’ll be there. I don’t get along with the kids in here. I don’t care, all I care about is getting out.
I am all about self-preservation. I was only dealing drugs so I could put food in my stomach. I’ll be honest for once; it was the easiest way to maintain a constant high. I hate this place and at times I hate myself. Life is difficult; we all know this is true for most that are in a situation such as this. Life doesn’t have to be like this. Everything is based on perception. Negativity becomes like a magnet and draws more negativity. A little bit of positivity will get you a lot farther. Right now I have life, a family, food, blankets and a roof over my head. I am grateful. Happiness is found within myself. No one can give it to me. I just have to look.
I am only 16 years old. I’ve been going to court with the others for almost 5 months. My next court date is coming up and all I can think of is that it’s my first time being locked up and I’m going to do 25 already.
I was labeled bad before I did anything.
I am a kid pushed to my present condition.
I will be someone above the statistics.
I was committing crimes to fee the family.
I will be someone my family can be proud of.
I was just a kid trying to get by.
I am working for an education.
I will be self-sufficient.
I was what I was.
I am what I am.
I will be what nobody expected me to be.
I remember walking with my cousin, talking about what we were going to be when we grew up, and the next thing we knew a bunch of gang members ran up and we started fighting. They were trying to jump my cousin because he was in a gang. Soon my cousins on the ground with a bullet in his head. I got on my knees and held him in my lap and cried. I remember the cop’s sirens. A lot of things were going through my head. How long was I going to get in jail? I have a family to think about. What about my nephews? They’re going to be with one less uncle. Was I going to survive this?
Next thing I remember I had handcuffs on with cops surrounding me. I remember waking up in a cold cell thinking “What the hell?” I was surrounded by four walls with a blue door and a little window. Two months later I remember the look on my Mom’s face when I got out because they had found the person who killed my cousin.
I recall being kicked out onto the streets. That is when the life of a criminal started for me. I needed money for food, beer, pot, cigs, and pipes. I couldn’t find a job so I started asking people for money. I found out some people are nice and I found out that some people are scared of the homeless. In February I got my dog. He was 10 months old and as big as a Pit-bull. He was a mixed breed of German shepherd, Pit-bull, and Rottweiler. He kept me company. I’ll admit it was hard taking care of me, and a dog. Occasionally my friends would stay on the streets with me and help me out. I started to enjoy living on the streets because there was no curfew, no rules, and no limit to how much I smoked or drank. That’s when I got arrested and put into ‘juvie’. I was picked on and I hated my life. I regret what I did but I can’t change that now and I wish that I could. I wish I could re-start my life and make the best of it but that’s impossible. When I was on the street my grades went down and I am now below standard. I’m one of those people who don’t like to be caged up. I like to be free.
The Horrible Person
I’m 8 years old. My Mom got a new boyfriend 2 weeks ago and he’s already broken her nose. He hits me and my siblings. When we run to comfort our Mom he throws dishes at us. As he throws punches and objects at us my oldest sister shields us so we don’t get hurt. Soon, her nose is bleeding. Finally she tells my Mom, “This needs to stop!”
My Mom looks at my sister’s freshly bruised and bloody face and says: “That’s it!” She calls my uncle and minutes later he comes through the door to our rescue with our Dad. They hit him, and then hold him until the police come for him. Fear is over, pain is gone. We are free to embrace our Mother with love. We are a family again. We are rid of the horrible person.
I was lucky I had everything I needed.
A couple of years back I was young and conceited.
Until the day came, that my Mother was gone.
It will never be the same.
Why did you leave me? What did I do?
If it wasn’t for your alcohol I’d be sitting next to you.
I’m a wise guy now, and learn from other people’s mistakes.
Sometimes in reality, death is what it takes.