“Sure, I’ll be home soon,” I said, while I rubbed his hand and winked at him.
I walked past the boy’s pod and those thirsty motherfuckers started hollering and whistling. Boy I tell you, they’re behaving as if they were not used to a bad bitch. The thirst was real, but they were hollering at the wrong bitch. These bums didn’t have enough money to afford me even on my worst day.
By the time I got back to the cell, all the loud-ass bitches were up. God knew that it killed me every day just to be around these low level bitches. I was especially sick of my bunkie; that hoe farted and snored like a fucking man. I never imagined that a woman could be that fucking disgusting.
Then there were the bitches that sucked on each other every day. A few days ago, one had the nerve to call herself trying to get with me. I had to shut that hoe down fast. Another bitch’s pussy didn’t interest me. Shit, what kind of pleasure would I have gotten out of rubbing pussy with another bitch? That bitch had the nerve to catch an attitude; she walked off mumbling something under her breath.
It was a circus in the jail. If you sat around long enough, you’d hear these low-level bitches claim to be bad bitches, drug dealers and rich bitches. I sat back and smiled; these hoes were fronting, trying to be important. Bullshit—most of these hoes used to cook crack for the dope boys, while others were human mules; transporting drugs from state to state. It was sad because now that their asses were locked up, they couldn’t even afford a lawyer or get a dollar on their books. Bad bitches, more like poor bitches. I really need to teach these bitches some game, I thought.
I lay in my cell thinking about my next move… whatever it was; it had to be my best move!
***
Six weeks later after pleading guilty, I was standing in front of a cracker judge for sentencing. My guideline was 180 – 240 months. I whispered a prayer to Daddy, asking him to watch over his baby girl.
The U.S. Attorney stood up and addressed the court. Nothing he said surprised me one bit; however, he did ask for the lower end of my sentencing guideline.
“Ms. Jackson, do you want to address this court before we move on?”
“No, Your Honor.”
I wasn’t in the mood to kiss their asses. I had little hope in the judicial system and I didn’t think by me saying a few words, my fate was going to be changed. That cracker already had his mind made up.
“Well Ms. Jackson, I’ve read your case and I also had a chance to talk to the pre-trial officer. The crime that you committed against this young lady was very heinous. You must pay for your actions. I now sentence you to two-hundred and forty months in a federal facility and three years’ supervised release, upon completion of your prison sentence. I order you to undergo mental health counseling while incarcerated,” the old fuck that could barely speak above a whisper said.
Sierra Rogers
This was one of the best days I’d had since all hell broke loose—the sentencing of that wicked bitch that ruined my life. I was mad as hell when I heard they offered her a plea deal. I had no understanding of how this bitch tried to kill me twice and still managed to get a fucking deal.
I lost confidence in the justice system. They took my man away, and now they’re giving this rat-ass bitch a fucking deal, so she can come out and become an earth disturber again. I’m not even going to say what I was going to do, if our paths ever crossed again; all I knew was that I was going to kill her.
I walked into the courtroom, just in time to hear the U.S. Attorney’s statement. I couldn’t believe that I was sitting in the same room as this evil bitch. Our eyes locked and she smiled at me. I wish I could’ve gotten to her, because they would’ve been picking her face up off the floor.
The judge then called me up to say something before he sentenced her. I walked past her and shot her a dirty look.
“Your Honor, all I have to say is, Ms. Jackson is an evil woman that has a personal vendetta against me. She tried to kill me, not once, but twice over a man. I’ve never provoked or done anything to harm this woman, but her only intention was to kill me. Your Honor, my life will never be the same; I’ve endured mental and physical pain all because of this woman.” I paused, wiped my tears then continued.
“I beg the courts, Your Honor, to impose the stiffest sentence on her.”
“Thank you Ms. Rogers. You may step down.”
“Ms. Jeanette Rogers, you also want to address the court. Please step up.”
“Good morning Judge, Your Honor. As a mother, I can’t explain the feeling that I felt as I knelt down on the ground holding my only child. I remember begging God, not to take her away from me. I couldn’t breathe. I warned my daughter that something wasn’t right about that woman and even worse, after she shot my child, she laughed; she was happy that she was dying. I beg you Your Honor, please give her the maximum sentence because she needs to learn a lesson,” Jeanette pleaded to the judge with tears rolling down her face.
The judge gave that bitch two hundred and forty months which was twenty years. I wished he had given her life, but she was given that time because of the plea that they offered her, in exchange for testifying against Alijah’s boys. I felt so bad for them; because of their loyalty to Alijah, they also got caught up in this bitch web of deceit. Now with this bitch getting ready to testify against them, they had no chance of seeing the streets again. So many lives lost because of this wicked bitch!
Everything happened so fast! The judge sentenced her ass; I looked up and this hoe done fainted. I was hoping she was dead, but I heard someone holler, “They got a pulse.” I guess her ass wasn’t so tough after all. I didn’t stick around to see what happened to her. Jeanette and I made our exit as the EMT’s entered the courtroom. I had better things to do, than sit around and watch this foolery!
***
Exactly two weeks later, I was packed and was on the road to Atlanta, Georgia. I had contacted the real estate agent out there and learned that the houses were pretty cheap. I had a list of them to look at when I got there. I didn't want anything huge, a three-bedroom was fine; one bedroom for me, one for Jeanette , and one for Azir. I was happy that I had money stashed away because after losing everything, I don't know what I would have done. I can't imagine living forever without you Alijah; you spoiled me and gave me the finest of everything and your love. It kind of hurts thinking about it, because I would trade anything in this world just to have him back.
"You alright baby girl?" Jeanette interrupted my thoughts.
"Yeah. Just hard leaving the one place I know, but I'm good."
"Well, look at it like this. Your memories will always be with you. It's not easy, but you are doing what's best for you."
"I guess so," I said.
Yes, it’s true that I wanted to leave Richmond because of everything that went down, but the main cause was a detective’s investigation. I've been praying every day that God would let it all go away. I can’t picture me doing time in prison behind that bitch. Alijah assured me that they would never find the body, because it was gone. I knew he was on top of his shit, so I can only hope that the police were only fishing.
Jeanette and I didn't talk much on the ride. We were both lost in our own thoughts. I tried not to put a lot of stress on her, because I knew she was an addict and stress could trigger a relapse. I knew I wouldn't know how to deal with her if she was on crack again. My life was already fucked up, I couldn’t take anymore.
After making a stop in Charlotte, North Carolina, and again in Greenville, South Carolina, I saw a sign that said Welcome to Georgia’. I knew we were almost there and I let out a long breath, as I drove into my future.
We stayed in a hotel for ‘bout a month. I finally found a house and paid cash for it. I was excited because I was tired of living in the hotel. After we moved into the house, it took us no time to get the things out of storage and get ourselves settled in. It definitely felt like home again after we decorated it the way we wanted it. I thought I could finally get some sleep at night. Ever sin
ce I’d been shot, sleep became my worst enemy. The pain in my head was unbearable and seeing Alijah’s cold, stiff body in the coffin made my pain worse. At first, I was taking the prescribed dosage of Percocet, but the pain became more intense; it was to the point where I used to lay in my bed crying. I started popping pills like I used to do the first time I got shot. My doctor noticed that I was coming to him too early for refills. He advised me that I should slow down and seek some kind of help. I didn't think I had a problem, so I told him okay, grabbed my prescription from him and walked out the office.
That didn't stop anything; I found two other doctors that I started to visit. After explaining to them how much pain I was in, it took them no time to write me a prescription for the same ailments. The extra pills from those doctors really helped the physical part the pain. I was constantly high every day, all day. I ain’t going to lie, not only was it helping my physical pain, it was also helping my mental pain. I didn't cry as much as I used to, but I also realized the more I popped the pills, the more dependent I was becoming.
***
I got up extra early this morning, because I had an appointment with my real estate dude. I was looking to buy a salon; after not being able to work for a while, I felt like it was time to step back into reality. I've been living off my savings and I knew if I didn't have any income coming in, it would only be a matter of time before my money would start getting low. I knew this wasn’t how Alijah intended for it to be. If he was here, he'd make sure that I didn't want for anything, but the cold, harsh reality was that he was gone, and I was still here.
I wasn’t trippin’ because I was a go-getter and I was going to get mines by any means necessary. I took a shower and was about to get dressed when I rushed back into the bathroom. I kept trying to vomit, even though my stomach was empty. I couldn't stop the dry heaving. I hated it when this would happen, because all that came up was some green nasty liquid. My chest started to hurt every time I tried to throw up and my eyes filled with tears as I knelt down beside the toilet. I knew what I needed: my pills, which were downstairs in my pocketbook. I managed to wash out my mouth, then opened the bathroom door.
“Sierra, we need to talk.”
“Talk ‘bout what? Something wrong?”
“Yes, something is terribly wrong.”
“And what’s that?” I pushed past her.
I had a feeling where this conversation was heading and God knows I wasn’t in the fucking mood.
“Sierra fo’ months, I’ve watched you and I see some of the same signs that I had when I was doing drugs.”
“You’re accusing me of being a crack head?”
“No, not crack. Hell, I’m not sure what it is, but my guess is it’s those painkillers that you’ve been taking.”
“The doctor prescribed those.”
“They might’ve, but you are becoming too dependent on them. I listen to how angry you get when you don’t take them, then right after you take them, your mood changes to happy and playful.”
“Oh, that’s right. I forgot I was talkin’ to a junkie, but just because you’re one that doesn’t make me one, Mother,” I said sarcastically.
“Sierra, you see how you behaving right now, just confirmed that I’m right.”
“Listen lady! I don’t want to disrespect you, so please worry ‘bout yo’ fuckin’ self. Last time I checked, I was grown and don’t need to explain myself to no fucking body,” I said as I stormed downstairs.
I thought this lady would have gotten the picture and left me the fuck alone, but no this crack head, dope fiend, selling-pussy-ass bitch followed me downstairs.
“Sierra, listen to me; you need to seek help before it is too late. What's going to happen when these pills can't stop the pain anymore? I know the next step up is heroin and baby girl that ain't nothing nice to play with.”
“Listen bitch, please leave me the fuck alone before I put you out of my shit. Yo’ ass should be somewhere up in somebody NA meeting. Remember you are a crack head. You need the fucking help; if not you're going to be around here with a glass dick in yo’ mouth, fuckin’ and suckin’ every nasty-ass dick that comes your way.”
“I'm not even going to respond to you. Trust me; I accept that I was a piece of shit of a mother, and I accept everything that you dish out to me. As much as I hate the things that you say to me, I know it’s the truth, so I don’t say too much. But before you go pointing fingers at me, go look in the fucking mirror and see how different you are. You may not be a crack head, but you sure are on your way to something stronger than pills. Yes I left you when I felt like I couldn't take care of you, but how are you so different? It’s been almost seventeen years since you took Azir down to the islands and he still there. I beg you every day to go get your baby, so you won’t walk the same path I went down. Look at me; I'm damn near fifty with nothing; no education and no car. Nothing."
I took a step closer to her face…then I spoke.
"I’ll never be you. I didn't just up and leave my baby. He's with his grandma and I've been through a fuckin’ lot. That's why I haven’t gone to get him as yet. Bitch, don't you ever accuse me of not being there for mine. I will never be you,” I said and stormed off to get my pocketbook.
That bitch just ripped my heart into tiny pieces, but I wouldn’t dare show any emotion in front of her. I grabbed my Michael Kors purse and pranced upstairs, went into my room and slammed the door behind me. I snatched up the bottle of Percocet, went to the bathroom and washed them down with the sink water. I sat on my bed with tears rolling down my cheeks, feeling like I wanted to crawl into a hole instead of being there. I was mad at her for pointing out my flaws, but who was she to judge me? Only God knows the mental and physical pain I was experiencing. I started to bawl uncontrollably; I didn’t want to go on anymore. I grabbed the pill bottle again, went into the bathroom and swallowed all of them. I wasn't sure how many I swallowed, but in a quick second, I regretted my stupid decision. I walked into my room and crawl back into my bed, totally forgetting the reason I was up so early in the first place. Instead, I pulled the cover over me as my thoughts became distant, and I started to drift off into sleep.
"Sierra open the door,” I heard someone yelling from what appeared to be far away.
I tried to mumble something to let the person know I wasn't feeling well, but the sound diminished and my voice trailed off...
***
I ended up in the hospital again. This time I was forced to drink charcoal. The taste was horrible, but I quickly downed the bottle. The doctor informed me that the shrink was coming to interview me. This shit was getting out of hand, and I had no idea how to stop it.
Jeanette sat in the chair across from my bed. She wore a disgusted look on her face. I don’t know why, because she didn't have to be here. I was grown and I could handle whatever was thrown at me.
I was still feeling weak and disoriented. I wanted to cry, but I used all my might to keep it all in.
“You don’t have to be here. You can go home.”
“Sierra, you need to calm yo’ damn nerves. You’ve been through enough today. I’m here because I chose to be.”
Before I could respond, a tall white woman walked in.
“Hello Miss Rogers. I’m Doctor Blackwell.”
“Hi.”
“Can you please excuse us? I would like to talk to the patient in private.”
“Sure,” Jeanette said, before she walked out.
“So tell me what’s going on with you? You came to us via ambulance because you overdosed on prescription pills.”
“I don’t know what happened. I was upset and felt like I wanted to die, so I took the pills.”
I could’ve lied, but honestly I was tired and had hit rock bottom. I was sick and tired of being sick and tired. My life had spiraled downhill over the past year.
“Did you want to harm yourself or others?”
“I don’t know what I was thinking. I just wanted to die,” I busted out bawling.
> “Here goes some tissue. I’ll give you a few seconds to get yourself together.” She handed me a box of Kleenex.
After I got the crying under control, I kind of gave her a rundown of what was going on with me. It wasn’t easy letting a total stranger in my business, but I'm glad I did. The more I let it out, the better I was starting to feel. I didn't give a fuck if that cracker bitch sat on her mighty throne judging me. Shit, if she ever experienced half the shit that I've been through, she would have downed more than pills.
"Okay, Miss Rogers. After listening to you, it's my professional expertise that you are experiencing a mental breakdown. It's not rare for a person that’s experienced the kind of trauma that you described. I also believe you have an addiction to pain medication. I want to admit you to our in-patient psychiatric department. That way you can get the help that you need."
"What the fuck you mean? I ain't fucking crazy."
"You are correct. You’re not crazy, but you are going through a difficult time and you need professional help. I'll ask your mother to sign your admission papers, so we can get you the help you need."
She didn't wait for a response; instead she walked out of the room. Seconds later she returned with Jeanette.
“Miss Rogers, I was telling your daughter that I would ask your permission to have her admitted to the psychiatric unit.”
I shot Jeanette a look. This bitch done lost her mind if she agreed to some bullshit like this, I thought.
“Well baby, you need the help and the only way you gonna get it, is if you stay in here.”
“What? Who the fuck died and made you the fucking chief of my motherfucking life?”
“Calm down Miss Rogers. Your mother is only trying to do what’s best for you. No need to get upset, it’s only temporary.”
“Really? You’re going to let a crack addict decide if I should be admitted. I’m grown as fuck and I’m getting up outta here.” I sat up in the bed.
“I’m afraid, you can’t do that! By the way you’re behaving, you’re not only a danger to yourself, but also to others.”
Bottom Bitch 3: The Revenge Kill Page 3