Love Made Me Do It

by Tamekia Nicole

  I had reservations about befriending the side chick. She had been disloyal since day one. But I was going crazy in that house. So we hung out one night. Intending to go skating, but the skating rink was closed. We wound up drinking and gambling at the casino. Loose lips sink ships. Once the side chick consumed alcohol, she sure had a lot to say. She wanted to hurt me. I was unsure of her motive, when she confessed that she had something to tell me.

  “Can I tell you something and you won’t say anything?” My reply was “Of course.” I had not one intention on showing her any loyalty. But I had every intention to get information from her. She informed me that my in law that I hired had been sleeping with my man…For years, according to her. I was devastated and in complete shock. I listened as she described their supposed affair.

  Immediately I text the in law, we had become very close over five years. I trusted her to an extent. She denied every accusation via text and when I came home to question my lover. I was slapped repeatedly every time I stood up I was slapped. Until, I stopped getting back up. Even his mama couldn’t stop him from whaling on me. I cowered into the spare bedroom and stayed in there the whole night on a deflated air mattress and no pillow. I was being punished. When he asked me where I got that information I told him. The side chick denied everything. I wasn’t the only one beat up that night. She sported a black eye. When I crossed paths with her the next morning, I laughed to myself. Although it was wrong, why did she lie, and more importantly was she lying?

  I carried on. Now more cautious than ever, I was living in a house where everyone was conspiring to get me. No one in his family liked me, and I couldn’t trust any of them. There was so much disloyalty. I had no one to run too, but my coworkers. They were probably sick of me complaining about someone who was CLEARLY a loser. So I stayed quiet.

  After the accusations I made, I also had a black eye. I went to work with a partially black eye and plotted to leave him. I plotted to make the most money in my department that week and fly back to California with my family. Get an attorney and fight my case from there. Only I never made it back to California.

  There were always speed traps mid-week. Since I was on the run I was always cautious of the little things. That could potentially get us caught. My coworker started picking me up for work since our car was so hot. We couldn’t take any extra chances. We woke up late because he wasn’t feeling good. So he had to take me. Running late and driving 80+ mph. We ran right into a speed trap and pulled over.

  I wasn’t worried at all. I told him not to speak for me. My alias hadn’t let me down yet. However he didn’t have one. When I saw that they were taking him. I gave myself up. It was May 9th of 2009. I had 2 outstanding felony warrants, and I had absconded from my Rehab Program. I was praying that I would not be sent to prison. But most likely I would be.

  He called his mama before they cuffed him, so that she could come and get the car. I called my job letting them know I would not be in that day. It was bound to happen. There was no way around being caught. Although, I had some hope that I could make it five years. I knew deep down inside that. That was unrealistic. This was actually a perfect time to be arrested. I was clean and I could start my life over from this moment on.

  As much as I claimed to be ready to see the judge. I was still very terrified. Now I had no choice. I was cuffed in the back seat of a police truck right next to my lover. I cried not just because I was going to jail. But because God had finally answered my prayers, along with death I had prayed many times to be caught. I knew it was the only way to end the life that I was living.

  I closed my eyes and leaned my head back. I could feel the body heat of my lover. This gave me some comfort but one thing I knew for sure was that we were done. It was over and after this I would move on. Hopefully he would too. It hurt my heart to know that we both had cheated ourselves out of a life worth living. We both cheated ourselves out of good health and stability. When I look back, the partying wasn’t worth it. None of it allowed us to amount to anything.

  We were un-cuffed and booked into Clark County Detention Center. I wiped my tears and hugged him one last time. We sat in an open room full of other criminals waiting to be processed. I waited so long, that I fell asleep. I was awakened by the sound of his voice telling me that it would be okay and no more tears.

  With a heavy heart I called my mom and told her that I had been arrested and I may be going to prison. She listened and told me to call her when I knew for sure. I hung up the phone. I was scared and emotional. I was saddened the most at the thought of what I was putting my mom through. As the oldest I had let her down; and my pain and struggle wasn’t just mine. I was so selfish that I never recognized that until it was too late.

  I made a few more calls from the holding tank. I called our house and my job to let them know the full story. I wasn’t surprised that they fully supported me and were willing to do anything to help me thru my situation. At 9 in the morning the holding tank was pretty peaceful. But I knew that soon it would be filled up with battered women, prostitutes, killers, drunk drivers and transients. So I found a resting spot away from toilet but facing the mounted T.V. I knew that I wouldn’t be going upstairs for about 48 hours. Vegas county jail was always packed. But what else was to be expected in a 24 hour town, where they gave you a long leash to fuck up….but when they caught you that leash turned into a choker.

  I went upstairs in record time less than 48 hours. I was settled into my housing unit and I would be seeing the judge in a few days for my revocation hearing. “Hang em High Mosley,” that was my judge, and he didn’t give any chances. Probation was your only chance. I sat on my bunk and looked around my pod. There were a few faces that I recognized including C.O’s.

  My job sent my final check to the jail. It was close to a thousand dollars, as well as some extra money along with a card that everyone signed. I always had support and I was very loveable it showed in the relationships that I kept. It even showed in the relationships that I destroyed.

  If only I could use that same charisma on the Judge and my Probation Officer. I just may be able to get out of this legal web I was caught in. My hopes of that was low, realistically I was ready to be done. If I was reinstated, I would have to start the whole song and dance again…the rehab, the reporting to my P.O., and the weekly visits to court for a status check. I would rather just do the time and get on with what was left of my life.

  My P.O came to see me and discuss what he would be recommending to the Judge. Right when I saw his face I knew I was fucked. This was a brand new P.O. I had no rapport with him so I listened and took notes and prepared myself for the worst. I was looking at revocation in two cases, both gross misdemeanors that had turned into E felonies. Both cases would be a sentence of 12-36 months. Hopefully, if I was revoked my cases would run concurrently and not consecutively.

  In the mean time I prepared myself for my revocation hearing. My job wrote a letter on my behalf. Even though my new P.O said there wasn’t a chance in hell that he would reinstate me. I still submitted my letters and evidence that I would be able to pay my outstanding court fees. My thoughts were already geared towards life in Prison for at least one year. But if I could not go for the sake of my family especially my mama, I was going to try everything.

  (Actual court documentation)

  I was present and in custody too hear my fate, only for my hearing to be continued in two more weeks. My memory was immediately jogged, realizing that I would be going back and forth with Clark County Judicial System for at least another two weeks. This was going to be rough. Hopefully I would get to see my lover at court. As my co-defendant he should be there except for the case that involved my rehab program.

  It was only so many jail stories that I could listen too. I was ready to hear what would happen to me and for how long it would be happening. Most of the women were institutionalized, that was one of my biggest fears. Becoming a statistic, I was already half way there as a young black woman and a drug addict.r />
  Reading occupied most of my time along with playing cards. I felt like I was getting dumber by the day. Then anxiety began to overtake my every waking thought. I watched women being sent to prison all around me. They came back from their court dates in despair. Unable to be with their small children or families until their release dates. I saw anguish on the faces of women who thought for certain that they were going home. These women were getting heavy sentences too; 10 years to life. All of a sudden I was terrified.

  The only thing I had to look forward to was my letters from my lover and my rediscovery of the Bible. In such a time of disparity maybe the promises of the Bible could see me thru my dark nights. God knew I needed him. But had he finally decided to turn his back on me too.

  Today was the day that I would learn my destiny. I had prayed until my eyes were drowning in tears and my knees went numb from kneeling on a concrete floor. My future was either going to start today or be post-phoned today. It was all up to the Judge. I had a fresh jail house hair do, my eyebrows were arched to perfection and my county blues had been under my mattress for two days. So my creases were fresh. I looked good but looks weren’t going to get me anywhere. I had fucked up and it was time to pay the piper.

  I was lucky that my original Judge (Hang em High Mosely) was on vacation. So, I had half a chance at beating my cases. With my heart pounding and beads of sweat forming on forehead and upper lip. I felt like I might vomit or pass out or both. I stood when the Judge called my name and when she sentenced me to prison in both my cases. I dropped to my knees and screamed. As tough as I tried to appear, I didn’t want to go to prison. I was petrified.

  The only thing I knew about prison is what I seen on T.V and on movies. I could only think that I wouldn’t make it out alive. I was so distraught the judge called for a medic to attend to me. I refused to leave the court room. I begged the judge to reconsider. I had my court fees, I had letters of reference and I was begging her to have mercy on me. But she dismissed me. She advised me to take my time in prison to consider my priorities. She said that I was such a beautiful young lady and although my situation was tragic and unfortunate. I needed to get my life together.

  I stood up and regained my poise and thanked her for her words of advisory. I assured her that I would take head to her words. No words can explain how I felt in that court room on that day. My dignity and pride had long been gone. I knew at that point there would be no escape from what was to be my destiny, which was prison.

  I walked back to my pod, in my cuffs and shackles. As I walked in, all my jail buddies were waiting for me to tell them what the Judge had said. But the look on my face told them that my life in a jail cell; wasn’t quite over. I let my destiny be determined by my reckless actions and unsavory decisions. Drugs and lack of judgment was sending me packing to a place that housed killers, thieves, and addicts.

  They don’t tell you when you are going to be rolled up and sent off to prison. They don’t want anyone blowing up the bus or planning any escapes. But I felt it that night. As soon as I drifted off to sleep a C.O tapped me on my foot and told me it was time. I sat up and looked around, some were sleeping. Some were up waiting to hug those that were off to the next part of their journey. I gave a few hugs and waived as I grabbed my pillow case full of my belongings and headed out the corridor to be transported to Florence McClure Women’s Correctional Center.

  I sat in the holding tank all night talking with others who were going to be transported. I listened to the stories and made mental notes of the things that I thought I would need to survive. The only thing I knew about prison was what I saw on T.V. I would find out in just a few hours if T.V. was a true depiction of that.

  They came in like drill sergeants and made us take everything off and bend, squat and cough. The prison guards looked like men. They gave us men jumpsuits to put on and shackled our wrists to our waist, and shackled our ankles together. They led us to a white van, with tinted windows.

  I remember riding down the Las Vegas strip in that van. I pinched myself, still unable to fathom that for the next year I would be in prison. Hopefully being imprisoned would free my mind and release my demons.

  (Actual court documentation)

  CHAPTER 35

  The Fish Tank

  There are no welcome mats or trumpets that play when you enter the prison. However there are predators that are awaiting fresh fish, so that can grab ahold of their money and their bodies. I was scared as I watched all the prisoners clear the way for the newbies as we were escorted down the hallway. Our housing unit was known as the fish tank.

  The fish tank is where I would be spending the next four weeks being psychologically evaluated; go to a dentist and an OBGYN. You are locked down for 23 ½ hours a day. You are allowed out for a half an hour to shower and use the phone. You are housed in a cell with 11 other women. I was terror stricken, but I made a promise to myself that I would not cry here. I would do my best not to show weakness. Since I was so emotional I had no idea how I was going to hold up. So I did my best.

  I was friendly but not to friendly. I tried to do more observing than talking. I watched how others interacted with each other, and luckily I had a “friend” with me from the county jail and I was sure to see others that I had did county time with. In my room was a little bit of every kind of criminal, a drunk driver, a few probation & parole violators, a violent offender, and a few like me…who had a chance but didn’t listen or follow directions. In addition to our room, there was the certified OG who had done two prior stints in prison.

  Some of us talked about our cases, some of us remained quiet. For the first few days I just tried to keep my composure and make phone calls to the people in my life who mattered, my mama, a few friends, and I even called his mama. Even though my mom said that she was done with me. She promised to be by my side. Tears are streaking down my face as I recall all the pain I heard in her voice. I told her that I had $1,000 on me but I wasn’t sure how long that money would last over the course of one year. The last thing I wanted to do was take from her because I couldn’t get my shit together.

  I loosened up over the next few days and enjoyed the fact that we could see out onto the yard and watch general population. It was so weird looking out windows that were no bigger and wider than your forearm. I watched as the girls on the yard vied for the attention of the certified OG in my room. They wanted to pay her, get her commissary and be her wife. This amazed me. I’ve always been fascinated with human interactions especially ones that were unfamiliar to me. This was definitely an unfamiliar territory. That would either kill me or make me stronger.

  We talked shit, played cards, made dice outta hardened toilet paper, communicated with chicks on the yard that we knew and passed the time. The second day in the fish tank a C.O. came in and told us that Michael Jackson had passed. I remember all 12 of us singing Michael Jackson songs until we fell asleep. There was a certain amount of nostalgia that covered the room that night. That made you think about what was; what could have been and what was still yet to be. Excitement and fear were the only emotions that ran thru my body.

  There were so many questions I wanted to know the answers too. But I kept my mouth closed, I was mindful that I didn’t look like anyone and I didn’t talk like anyone there and I never wanted to be pointed out as the weak one.

  You’ve probably heard stories about prison relationships between the women and prison relationships between the male guards and the women. I will tell you that it’s true and I fell into the trap of an unpredictable love affair with the OG in my unit. She slid a note onto my bed late at night that said; “I know you’re not gay, but you will see that I am a shark around here and you will want to roll with me.” I think I was a little flattered but mostly scared.

  I was awake when she slid the note on my bed, but I never opened my eyes. In the morning, she was extra nice and gave me some of her breakfast, since I was probably the greediest one in there. It was a kind gesture since I felt like I was a
lways starving. I got to know her as she did me. I listened to her advice and her stories and what led her to smiley road. I was intrigued by her. She was different, aggressive but with a teddy bear like demeanor. She was stud with a fade, a missing tooth and a bum leg. She shared that her first trip to prison, some years back was because she stabbed her wife a dozen times.

  The days and nights passed as we were each called out at different times to go to the dentist, see a psychiatrist and get pelvic exams. They took your blood to see if you had the virus or any other communicable diseases. Also so that when you were released you didn’t leave with anything that you didn’t come in with. This was real life and very similar to what you saw on T.V.

  We always gossiped about why some girls went to the OBGYN more than others and who would be lucky enough get new teeth that the state paid for. In hindsight none of it is funny. All those potential scenarios could either damage or severely ruin your life. As humans we often joke about the misfortune of others, just to mask the pain that we feel inside, but don’t know how to deal with. I was one of them.

  I went to all my appointments and passed with flying colors, my coochie, teeth, and mental health all got the A-O.K from the doctors. Although, I was hesitant to tell the psychiatrist everything about me I did my best to be honest. I also decided that a good way to pass my time and not get my ass whooped while I was in prison…Was to take the OG up on her offer, to be her wife.

  I saw how she operated. How she was able to get things smuggled to her, how well respected she was. Plus I could release my sexual frustrations with her. I looked at it more as a survival technique versus a love connection. A decision that I was bound to regret.

  I started having the perks of an OG’s wife right away. The trustees smuggled razors, Q-tips, a relaxer, magazines and body-wash, in to her and I had privy to all of it. While my cellmates looked at me in awe, I was shaved, smelling good, clean ears and a fresh perm. I was ready to make my debut in general population; looking unfazed by the curve ball life had thrown me.