Personal Narrative: My Life In Jail

Hey little brother sorry you can't call. I don't have any money on the phone. I haven't spoken with Mj in a month. I am so heartbroken. Your wife told me the great news and I am so happy for you both. Like I told Lamont I really don't talk to no one in Michigan. Kristy (1-2 times a week) Aretha and Fred (every other 3-4 months) maybe. Mom and Cass never. So that's that. You, Lamont and Mj are my concerns as long as you all let me be in your lives I will be. I love all my family dearly; however, along the way we have lost vital parts of who we are as a family. I think long incarcerations have made some feel that they are not family. Many people have forgotten who they are as simply Africans but on a basic level in this family we have forgotten

I'm turning 18 soon and I want to clarify my freedoms if I'm going to continue living with my parents. I'm afraid they'll continue to restrict me like they have for the past 17 years. If I'm living under their roof, are they allowed to tell me that I can't go out? Living there is a generosity, so legally, I don't think they can hold me from going out, but they could not let me back in (which they'd never do, but it's always possible). And for house rules, I completely understand taking out the trash, doing the dishes, but do they really have that much power over me that they can set a bed time. This may be a sit-down-and-talk-about-it-issue with my parents, but legally is this possible? And lastly, my dad said he would give me his old car which

After checking every photo taken during the investigation, the Deputy District Attorney, Michelle Trego asked the detectives to interview the witnesses again. “We want to make certain she pays for this crime,” Michelle said riding up in the elevator with Detective Wallace.

Hey how are you doing? My name is Sheterrica Lenard and I've been working since I was 16 years old and I have all the experience that is required for this position. I have 5 years of experience in supervising and coordinating work of other correctional officers, I also can drive passenger vehicles and trucks used to transport inmates to other institutions, courtrooms, hospitals and work sites. I counsel inmates and respond to legitimate questions, concerns, and requests. I have also participate in required job training. After being in school for 8 years, majoring inn this field, I know I meet all required standards for this position. Although not all police departments require their detectives to possess a college degree, the shift toward a

A teenagers boss put him on the corner holding a sign, but it wasn't to drum up business for his company, Precision Construction & Investments, LLC.

I could not believe what I had just said, I said it so hastily that I thought no one had heard me, but the judge clearly heard me say “The defense moves to indict Isabella Moores of first degree murder.” Everybody in the courtroom was speechless, “This so called witness was planning to murder her mother since she ran away from home, all because her mother was constantly abusing her and I have evidence to prove it!”

I couldn’t handle it anymore. I knew that I would regret not taking the blame for Tilde and her dad, but imagine how much trouble I would be in! Forget the idea of going to prison for many years, instead I would be rotting corpse, hung in front of many people! Okay so I don’t know what the punishment for taking all the blame of bringing a bunch of illegal immigrants is, but I’m pretty sure it’s something related to Guantanamo Bay. My family stared at the floor for what felt like forever, and then I simply walked back to my room, letting sleep ease my mind.

After we left the jail I went to work. While I was at work Debra kept texting me, because she wanted to talk about things.

My chest was pounding and my hands were shaking, I was so terrified. The only thing I could think of doing was light a cigarette and try to calm down. “How are you doing tonight sir? Do you know why I pulled you over?” Ive heard those words a dozen times and normally I would have had a quick witted answer but this time I just sat there and shook my head. I gave him my license, military ID, insurance. All the usual stuff when you get pulled over. But when he came back and asked me to step out of the vehicle my heart dropped into my stomach. I knew right then and there I was going to jail. He had me conduct a sobriety test that I failed miserably. As he was arresting the parking lot I had pulled into was another bar parking lot that my first sergeant had been drinking at and was walking out of while I was getting arrested. He came running up asking what was going on and the officer explained. The look of absolute disappointment from that man made me feel like I was a kid again and had just pissed off my father. He didn’t say a word to me and he didn’t have to. I knew exactly what he was saying just from his face alone. I spent the weekend in jail and those were the longest hours I have ever had to myself. All I could think about was what was going to happen to me. I ran every situation that could possibly happen through my mind again and again. After I was released to my Platoon sergeant and platoon

In the years that it was open, Alcatraz Federal Penitentiary seemed like a horrid place to live. If I were an inmate sentenced to spend my life at Alcatraz I would try to escape too. I think the three men that attempted to flee in the summer of 1962 were all highly intelligent. They came up with a very intricate, flawless plan, but I believe that the trio’s chances were too small, given their limited resources, to have successfully pulled off the escape. If there was anyway they made it out alive, I think the two skilled swimmers, Clarence and John Anglin could have done it while dropping the weak link, Frank Morris. I think the most accurate information there is about the men’s fate is the picture shown above. Although, the picture that the

The cold steel refreshed my hand as I grasped the handle to enter the phone booth. Inside laid the payphone sitting silent in the claustrophobic room. It had always trapped me when I entered, and created an atmosphere of a jail cell. Luckily, my reason for entering always masked that imaginary environment because it was to connect with others and not to be left alone. Although, on that typical sticky warm Florida afternoon the jail cell surfaced and I felt like there was no escape. I was a prisoner in my own mind; being beaten up by regret and taunted by sorrow. But, as my tears fell and my mind continued to race with grief I grew stronger and my morals shifted molding me along with them. That phone call that day changed my outlook on life

It was a gloomy day in the park I just got out of jail. I had just finished up a lecture at the county prison and the community center. Suddenly a young boy walked up and said hello to me. The young man felt comfortable around the old like he can ask him for advice. So the young man told the old man his predicament. The me and it just happened he went through the same problem i went through. The young man said he was the best friend of an abused wife. It just so happened that was the same thing I did. The young man asked for advice, and the old man said I went through the same thing let me tell you my story. It all started when my best friend stacey was abused by her husband mike. Stacey had always wanted to leave but ike had a tight grip

I was on my way to prison for seven years and my question to myself was, how did I get so far out of control. Reality didn't actually hit to I was in the courtroom and got sentenced. Their was so many people to talk with on the outside that I refused to talk to. Now that I want to talk there has seem to be no one to trust with any information because it showed a sign of vulnerability in the prison atmosphere. It was a cellmate from time to time in which you got somewhat comfortable with but not in a trustworthy type way. Their was a lot of conversations within myself, in which you start to feel like you're going crazy. A voice called out to me and said, finally I got your attention. This was scary, but amazing at the same time. Who is it, I

This reminds me of me and my cousin when we got out of lock up a while back. And us coming back and making our own money and trying to change our lives around in a good way. When he says you either with me or against me, that's what i use to say to my friends before i got locked up. But in the end this song sounds alot like whats happen in the past.

At approximately 5:03p.m. Israel Thomas' Mom came down to Mr. Kimpson's room. When she got there she barged in asking, "What is this?" "Is this tutorial or detention?" Mr. Kimpson stated to her, "This is detention." She said, "Oh no he can't stay for that!" She instructed her son to get his things together so that they can leave. When she asked her son, as he was packing up, who assigned detention, he stated Mrs. Northern did. She then came over into my room and said, "Hey, he can't serve a detention and I would appreciate if you have an issue with my son, you call me." I told her, "Ma'am I sent home the letter to inform you that Israel had a detention and he brought it back signed by you." She said, "Yeah I know I signed it but he can't stay for detention." She then stated that, "I know I signed the letter, but I was suppose to call you but I had a lot going on and didn't have time to call." I told her that the only reason he was allowed to stay was because he had permission from her. She said, "No!" "He cannot stay for detention. In the future if y'all have a