Pot Of Gold

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(Chris POV)

I wake up in my jail cell with such a bad headache even the dim light was hard to look at. Swinging my legs over the side of my bed, I jump down and land on the hard concrete below.

"Finally up boy?" My jail mate, Slim, says to me. He's a scrawny 27 year old guy with an afro and a thick beard. He has a nice dark complexion with a few scars here and there. He's the only person that has showed me any kindness since my first day.

"Ah, when-when did I pass out?" I ask him.

"Pass out!? You wish you had passed out. Boy you was beaten senseless by Mac." Slim says, jerking his chin forwards.

I turn around and look through the barred door and across the room at Mac. Mac had beef with me since the day they dragged me up in here. He was tall, at least three inches taller than me with broader shoulders and a thick neck. He was like a human wall with yellowish eyes and caramel complexion. He has a tattoo of a lion on the back of his neck and a lip piercing. Not to mention his thick Barbados accent.

Mac stares back at me, his eyes burning holes in my skin. Turning my back to him I look at Slim who is now relaxing on his back with his arms folded behind his head. "What exactly happened?"

"I di'nt even see what happened but my friend Ricky did. From what Ricky said, you was talkin on the phone for a few minutes, then Mac wanted to use the phone so he came up and snatched it from you. You tried to take it back from him then he started beating you with it. Hit you in the temple and knocked you out cold for the last 24 hours."

My eyes widen. I do remember talking on that rusty ass pay phone with my friends then Mac taking the phone from me. What I don't remember is getting my ass beat with a telephone....a telephone of all things.

"You mean I've been unconscious for a whole day?" I ask. Slim nods his head yes. "Damn it man, he's always trying to start stuff with me. Ima lay his gorilla sized ass out next time he step up to the plate." I say angrily, clenching my fist.

Slim sucks his teeth. "Don't even play Chris. You and me both know that Mac will squish you like a bug."

I wanted to have a smart comeback but I couldn't even think of anything. Not a day in my life have a met someone I couldn't beat, why the hell does Mac make me feel so weak? And it's not just him, a lot of the guys here makes me feel small. I'm not the youngest here, I've met 15 year olds in here. But I know my boundaries and I definitely don't belong in here.

My mom came to visit me yesterday, she said she's trying to find money to post my bail but she's just not getting it fast enough. She said she feels bad that she can't get me out and just to hear her say that makes me feel like crap.

It's my fault, all of this is my fault. I should have never let things go this far. If I had just walked away from Joey when I saw him that night at the corner store. My life would be going straight and I wouldn't be in this hell hole. Now this goes on my personal record for life. How will I go to college? How will I get a good job? No one wants a drug dealer.

"Chris?" Slim asks me. I look at him as he stares back at me. "You good man? Lookin kinda dazed over there."

I shrug and sit down on his bunk. The bed creaks under me as I put my head in my hads. "How much longer you in here Slim?"

"Fifteen more years man. Ima be 42 when I finally get to smell some fresh air again." He says, stroking his thick beard. Slim got thrown in jail for helping his friends rob a mall then burn it to the ground. He helped kill 26 people that day at the age of 17.

I don't want to be in here till I'm 42. I know I'll have less time than Slim does but still, my life will be nearly over. My last year as a teenager...gone. My chances of marrying Tamara...gone. My friends will be living their lives to the fullest and where will poor little Chresanto be? In a cold, dark, sewer smelling cell. Rotting away as life continues on without me.

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