Poetically Resurrected
New member
I wasn’t in here to make any friends. I was certainly not in here to make any friends who probably stole cars, used drugs, and who knows what else. I wanted to do my time and be out as quick as possible. I just wanted to get my time over with so I could return home and apologize to my dad. I wanted to tell him how sorry I was.
“That’s cool, that’s cool,” the boy said with his deep raspy voice. “My name is Jamal, Jamal Walker, but you can just call me Jamie.” He stuck out his hand which I shook reluctantly.
“So, what did you do to get yourself locked up in here?” said Jamie as he cut his pancakes and poured strawberry syrup over the top. “I mean, you seem like the innocent type.”
“I bit my dad,” I said and took another sip of milk. “At least that is what he told the police.”
“Yeah, I feel you.” said Jamie. “Man, parents can tell the cops anything and they will believe it.”
“Yeah,” I said. “They only believe what they want to believe and when you try to tell your side of the story they just ignore you.”
There was an awkward pause as I put my tray down on the ground and looked nervously about the room.
“I’m innocent, I don’t belong here.” I said.
Jamie chuckled to himself and said, “Yeah...that is what everybody says. I bet you each and every one of these juvies in here thinks of himself as innocent and that he shouldn’t be here.”
“Yeah.” I said and stared down at my barely touched plate of pancakes and applesauce.
“Aren’t you hungry, man?” said Jamie when he looked at my unfinished plate of food.
“No,” I said.
“Nervous?” asked Jamie said as he finished his pancakes and put his tray food on his bed.
“Yeah.” I said and looked down at the ground.
“Hey, man,” Jamie said. “It is ok to be nervous. I remember my first time here. I was transferred her from Girls Camp because I hit a guard and two supervisor.”
“But you’re a boy!” I exclaimed, surprised.
“Nah, man, girl’s camp isn’t literally, girl’s camp.” Said Jamie and he gave a hearty laugh. “We just call it that because of the fact that it was once an all-girl’s juvenile detention center.”
“Oh.” I said.
“So then, what did you do to get locked up at Girl’s Camp?” I asked Jamie.
“I was part of a gang. I used to sale drugs near this small church in my neighborhood.”
“Why did you sale drugs, for the money, or what?” I asked, very much curious now.
“Mostly, I did it to support my two kids. I had a baby by two different women. One lives in Pennsylvania and the other here in Sacramento.”
“I was caught,” continued Jamie. “And I was brought to Girl’s Camp. There I got in a fight with one of the supervisors over some nonsense and then was relocated to here. I was supposed to only be in there for three months.”
I had been listening intently. His story gripped me in every way. He must have done something pretty bad to have to be in there for three months! I am in here one day and I am ready to crack.
“So,” I asked and got up to make my bed. “How long are you in here for? Did the judge tell you?”
“No,” said Jamie as he was putting the sheets on his bed. “My next hearing is this Tuesday before my second class.”
“What?” I said half-surprised. “Class for what? They actually have classes here?”
“Yeah, of course,” said Jamie as he pulled the covers over his bed and laid the pillow neatly on the end. He sat down upon his made bed and rubbed his hands.
“What classes do they have?” I asked curious.
“Well, they only have classes throughout the week. Today’s Saturday so they do not have any classes.”
“However,” continued Jamie, “When they do they have P.E. or gym, English, Math, History and Art. P.E. has to be my favorite class. We can play dodge ball, and basketball. Do you hoop?”
“Yeah, of course.” I said thinking about my friends when we played together.
“Are you any good?” said Jamie with a slight grin plastered across his face.
“A little,” I said saying the opposite of what I really felt.
I was locked up in Juvenile Hall when I was sixteen, due to depression causing a lot of chaos, and parents and fighting just a lot of bad stuff. I hope you like it. I wrote an entire book about my experience and I actually gave a copy to the juvenile hall I went to so that others wont feel so alone. I had become close friends with the supervisor there who was in charge of the extracurricular activities and reading and poetry times.=]
“That’s cool, that’s cool,” the boy said with his deep raspy voice. “My name is Jamal, Jamal Walker, but you can just call me Jamie.” He stuck out his hand which I shook reluctantly.
“So, what did you do to get yourself locked up in here?” said Jamie as he cut his pancakes and poured strawberry syrup over the top. “I mean, you seem like the innocent type.”
“I bit my dad,” I said and took another sip of milk. “At least that is what he told the police.”
“Yeah, I feel you.” said Jamie. “Man, parents can tell the cops anything and they will believe it.”
“Yeah,” I said. “They only believe what they want to believe and when you try to tell your side of the story they just ignore you.”
There was an awkward pause as I put my tray down on the ground and looked nervously about the room.
“I’m innocent, I don’t belong here.” I said.
Jamie chuckled to himself and said, “Yeah...that is what everybody says. I bet you each and every one of these juvies in here thinks of himself as innocent and that he shouldn’t be here.”
“Yeah.” I said and stared down at my barely touched plate of pancakes and applesauce.
“Aren’t you hungry, man?” said Jamie when he looked at my unfinished plate of food.
“No,” I said.
“Nervous?” asked Jamie said as he finished his pancakes and put his tray food on his bed.
“Yeah.” I said and looked down at the ground.
“Hey, man,” Jamie said. “It is ok to be nervous. I remember my first time here. I was transferred her from Girls Camp because I hit a guard and two supervisor.”
“But you’re a boy!” I exclaimed, surprised.
“Nah, man, girl’s camp isn’t literally, girl’s camp.” Said Jamie and he gave a hearty laugh. “We just call it that because of the fact that it was once an all-girl’s juvenile detention center.”
“Oh.” I said.
“So then, what did you do to get locked up at Girl’s Camp?” I asked Jamie.
“I was part of a gang. I used to sale drugs near this small church in my neighborhood.”
“Why did you sale drugs, for the money, or what?” I asked, very much curious now.
“Mostly, I did it to support my two kids. I had a baby by two different women. One lives in Pennsylvania and the other here in Sacramento.”
“I was caught,” continued Jamie. “And I was brought to Girl’s Camp. There I got in a fight with one of the supervisors over some nonsense and then was relocated to here. I was supposed to only be in there for three months.”
I had been listening intently. His story gripped me in every way. He must have done something pretty bad to have to be in there for three months! I am in here one day and I am ready to crack.
“So,” I asked and got up to make my bed. “How long are you in here for? Did the judge tell you?”
“No,” said Jamie as he was putting the sheets on his bed. “My next hearing is this Tuesday before my second class.”
“What?” I said half-surprised. “Class for what? They actually have classes here?”
“Yeah, of course,” said Jamie as he pulled the covers over his bed and laid the pillow neatly on the end. He sat down upon his made bed and rubbed his hands.
“What classes do they have?” I asked curious.
“Well, they only have classes throughout the week. Today’s Saturday so they do not have any classes.”
“However,” continued Jamie, “When they do they have P.E. or gym, English, Math, History and Art. P.E. has to be my favorite class. We can play dodge ball, and basketball. Do you hoop?”
“Yeah, of course.” I said thinking about my friends when we played together.
“Are you any good?” said Jamie with a slight grin plastered across his face.
“A little,” I said saying the opposite of what I really felt.
I was locked up in Juvenile Hall when I was sixteen, due to depression causing a lot of chaos, and parents and fighting just a lot of bad stuff. I hope you like it. I wrote an entire book about my experience and I actually gave a copy to the juvenile hall I went to so that others wont feel so alone. I had become close friends with the supervisor there who was in charge of the extracurricular activities and reading and poetry times.=]
