Prison Politics

Synopsis: Terrius McCord is an inmate at the Wellside Correctional Facility and is serving time for a statutory rape charge. When he learns of his best friend and cellmate's murder by another inmate, he begins to ponder whether a master plan has been set in motion with him as the main target. While somewhat investigating the murder of his friend, Terry gets paired with a slightly effeminate gay male and worries that his judgment has been impaired. This story takes a look at a prisoner's day to day life and the complexities of prison government.


Chapter 1a: The Gang's All Here

The Wellside Correctional facility is a maximum security correctional facility located in Michigan City, IN. It was built to take the place of the Indiana State Prison. Wellside's population was about 3,000 inmates with 7 major gangs that most of the population belonged to. There was the Aryan Brotherhood, the Mexicans, the Asians, the Bloods, the Christians, the Muslims, and the Pedophiles; with the latest being the most recent group. The Pedos would get raped left and right, until they banded together and united under a serial child molester. He was a body builder before he entered the prison and the only reason that "gang" exists is because he took out a couple of Aryan's that whistled at him when he walked in. This prison is all about fear and strength, so when you show fear, the population will test your strength. One of the ways that they did it was through whistling.

Whistling at the fresh meat was typical in Wellside. If the gangs couldn't get along on anything else, it was on the days they brought in the new prisoners. The Aryan's and some of the bloods would be able to coexist just long enough to sit at the fence together and watch the boys get off the bus. I remember when they pulled that shit on me 4 years ago. I was a scared ass 20 year old kid, and when I stepped off the bus, I could hear the roars from the fence. Huge black men beat their chests and screamed, while the whites mocked jacking their dicks as we walked in.

Most of the dudes don't get down in the pen. That whole thing of making a scene at the gate is just to incite fear in the newcomers. It was a rite of passage, somewhat of an initiation into The Well. Everyone went through it, and it showed no sign of stopping anytime soon. I've been in for 4 years and never been punked. You see, most of the dudes that get punked are dudes that are seeking it, or dudes that fucked around and pissed another nigga off. And I, Prison #927943-Terrius McCord, am not interested in either one of those activities. I've always been a cool neutral type of dude. I don't fuck with the bloods, even though I'm cool with some of the members. And when I say cool, don't take that to mean we're good chums. We've only played ball together.

The good thing about Wellside, is that you can get by being a neutral. From what I heard, at other prisons, if you don't choose a team then yo ass is dead. But here, as long as you mind yo business, you'll be straight. Me and My cellmate were both neutral. Prisoner #153985, Hakim Tucker, has been my cellmate for years. A really good friendship developed between us and we both have each other's back. Outside The Well, Hakim had a reputation for being maniacal when handed a weapon, and that is how he got here. When he was 21, he stole a machete from an antique parlor in Jackson, Mississippi. He, then, ran through the streets at 4 O'Clock in the morning and decapitated a woman getting off the bus after a long shift at work. That was 7 years ago.

Hakim's fascination with sharp, shiny weapons made him a great ally, an unwanted enemy and an untrustworthy son of a bitch. While we are cool, sometimes this nigga just gets a glaze in his eye. And you can tell he's relishing in the thought of murder. It was better to stay on his good side, which is where I was going to remain. Hakim stood about 6'2 and 180 lbs. He had a peanut butter skin tone with these dark and bulging eyes. He had one of those faces that screamed that he was dangerous. The Well was a good place for him to fit in because he looked the part.

The sweet lookin' boys were the ones that had to watch out for themselves. Back when I said that most dudes who get punked are dudes who want it, or dudes who pissed other niggas off, I meant it. But, those smooth skin type dudes tend to piss more niggas off. Why? That's easy. These niggas ain't gettin' no pussy in here. They see a nice smooth ass lil nigga and it fires up the desires of being with a woman. Some of the hard niggas provoke the smooth niggas. Then when the smooth nigga snaps, they beat his ass and fuck him. That was the story with Prisoner #927943, Elijah Grant.

Elijah was a Black and Asian mixed kid that grew up in an Asian household. At home, he was accepted by everyone around his neighborhood. The blacks thought he was cool and the Asian crowd took to him too. But in The Well, the shit just wasn't the same. Elijah's first day, was probably one of the worst first day stories in The Well's history. Coming in for the vicious murder of his fellow high school basketball teammate, Elijah was terrified about arriving. When he heard the whistles as he got off the bus, he knew that he was the target of all of it and that he would need protection. He immediately went to the Asian crowd, but they wouldn't accept him because he was too dark to fit in. It was a lot different from home.

Elijah, who was 18 at the time, didn't have much height and only stood at 5'8. He didn't have weight either and was about 140 lbs. And the dude had the smoothest Chris Brown complexion with chinky eyes and big ass nigga lips. When the Asians rejected him, he went to the bloods and those were some of the very men who terrified him when he stepped off that bus. Me and Hakim actually watched him walk all the way to The Bloods territory from our cell.

Hakim whispered in my ear, "This nigga's crazy."

I nodded my head in agreement.

"Don't he know he walkin' into the lion's den?"

If he did know that, then he was dumb as hell because he kept walkin'. The niggas spotted him when he wasn't that far away, and already knew what he wanted when he came over. And while he thought he was coming over to get protection, the bloods were already delegating who would get to have him FIRST.

"Wassup, bruh?" Elijah tried to give the appearance that he was "down." Even though you could tell that ole boy came from some private school out somewhere.

The bloods laughed at his thin voice, and went on back to playing spades.

"Can a nigga play?"

"Nigga?" one of the dudes asked. "You a chink, homeboi. Don't get it twisted."

Elijah gulped. "Aiight. Can a chink play?"

"Fuck nah," another one said.

"Yo, what you over here for nigga?" A deep voice called out from the corner. It was Prisoner #192509, Cypress Turner. He was in for life, due to a drive by shooting on a rival gang that killed 2 of the gang members, parents, and children at the local elementary school. You see, the nigga he was after heard the gunshots and took off running through an elementary school playground and Cypress went running and shooting after him, killing 2 kids and wounding a teacher. Cypress was 29 at the time. He stood about 6'2 and about 200 lbs. He had a crisp, dark golden skin color. And by merely stepping closer to Elijah, he stirred up a fear within the boy.

"I- um... I wanna hang with y'all niggas."

"Did you just call me a nigga, chink?" Cypress turned on him.

"Nah. I said, 'jiggas'," The boy regretted his previous comment.

"Nah, you didn't. You called me a nigga, right?" Cypress reached out and grabbed Elijah's head and pulled him a step closer. "Go ahead and admit it," he encouraged. Cypress's hand firmly dropped to Elijah's face, giving him a light but solid slap. Then, he held the boy's face and stroked it. The Bloods snickered at the scent of fear leaking out of Elijah's pores. "Did you call me a nigga?"

Elijah gulped. "Yes."

"Awwww," Cypress smiled. But of course, there was something unsettling about the smile that even Elijah's naïve ass could pick up on. "Is that because you want me to be yo nigga?"

Cypress's hand conveniently dropped to Elijah's neck. And if the wrong answer escaped from Elijah's mouth, his throat would be history.

On the other side of the prison, I ran up to the guard's station to tell them what the fuck was going on, but they already knew because they were watching it. You know how back in the 50's and 60's, the guards used to always rape the prisoners to keep them in line. At the Well, they let the prisoners rape each other and turn a blind eye to the shit. The code that Officer Tongis and Officer Melee operate under, is that, "it's consensual sex as long as it doesn't draw blood." If Elijah didn't fight back, they weren't going to help him.

"The kid is fuckin' new. He don't know how shit works around here."

"Well, he's about to find out," Officer Melee, the Middle Eastern officer, said.

"Y'all are feedin' him to the sharks! They are going to rip him apart."

"Good. He's 18 and murdered another young man in cold blood over a spot on the basketball team. Whatever they give him, he deserves."

"Y'all can't do this," I argued.

Officer Tongis spoke up. Tongis was the head officer of the block. He was the chief, a middle-aged white man who'd been working at the prison for over 10 years. "Terry, go sit down. You're not with the bloods so this really doesn't even concern you. We have the situation under control. You know that we give you guys as much freedom as we can in exchange for keeping the peace."

"I wonder how the warden would respond if he knew that you two were operating like this," I said.

"Are you making a threat?" Officer Melee spoke again. "You know we don't take kindly to threats. All I have to do is say the word, and I'll have you locked up with the Aryan brotherhood. They'll fuck you 5 ways to Tuesday and then brand White Power on your dick, and I will let them. Now, get out of here."

"Terry, just go back to your cell. If things get crazy, we'll handle it. But do not do anything stupid," Tongis interrupted.

I groaned, and walked back to my cell. When I got back, I asked Hakim what happened.

"Shit, they bout to fight over young man."

I looked back toward the Bloods end of the cell, and he was right. Another Blood was up in Cypress's face, challenging him.

"What happened while I was up there?"

"Yo, I think they already had a pecking order before he even went up to them. Jermaine was supposed to go up to the guards and get him transferred into his cell tonight so he could bone him first. But it looks like Cypress wants to bone first."

"So now Jermaine's trying to fight?"

"Yup, and that old ass nigga ain't gonna win. He might used to run that group 10 years ago, but Cypress is making a power play," Hakim said.

"Jermaine ain't gonna go down like a punk."

"If they fight, the boy might be safe for his first night in prison. Both of them would go to the hole."

"But he'd get passed right on to the next nigga."

"True," Hakim agreed. Something happened over in the Bloods' cell, and it wasn't a fight. It was a contest. They were going to allow Elijah to choose who he wanted to take his virginity in an unconventional way. I'd seen this contest used by the Bloods before. They forced Elijah to stand with his hands pointed to his sides. Cypress interlocked his fingers with Elijah's left hand, and Jermaine interlocked his fingers with Elijah's right. At the count of 3, both of them bent Elijah's fingers back. Elijah was supposed to scream out the name of the one who was inflicting more pain upon him, and that person would be the one to fuck him first. And no surprise, Cypress won.

"Hell nah nigga," Jermaine disputed. "This shit ain't fair, I had to use my left hand. Everybody knows I'm right-handed. Best 2 out of 3!"

"No!" Elijah yelled, frightened. And in his fright, he stepped away from Jermaine and closer to Cypress.

Cypress chuckled. "Looks like he chose me again." Cypress tossed his head to Elijah, "Grab the tail of my shirt," he told him. And Elijah did as he was told. Cypress gave daps to a few of his homies and then took his new piece on a stroll around the prison cells. He came around our way first. Cypress looked directly at me and Hakim as he walked past us. Elijah did too and you could see him trembling. The whole point of the stroll was to let everyone know that this ho was yours. Nobody else could step to him until you give him away or else they would answer to you and whatever gang you were associated with. Yeah, this was some Prison Politics for yo ass.

After strolling around the jail for everyone to see, Cypress stopped in front of the guard's station so Officer Tongis and Melee could get a look at him. Officer Tongis, looked down at him and then pointed to one of the empty cells up on the top floor. Officer Melee looked over at me and shrugged his shoulders.

Before Cypress and his new bitch took to their suite, but there were materials that Cypress needed to get. He needed to get a spoon and two towels. In order to get them, he left Elijah by himself for a little bit. In the time alone, I made a bold move to go out and talk to him.

"Yo, nigga, what the fuck are you doing?" Hakim said, grabbing my arm.

I shook his hold off of me and continued with what I had to do.

Tongis could see me stepping to the boy. "Terry! You get back in that Goddamn cell before I beat the lights out of you!" Tongis knew that if I stepped to the boy, the Bloods would step to me and there'd be some kind of fight. Shit, I knew that too, but I was determined to tell this boy that he didn't have to do this.

"Hey, you ok man?" I asked Elijah.

He didn't say anything.

"God damn it, Terry! Get back in your cell!"

Tongis saw the Bloods stand from their seats.

"Look, all you have to do is fight," I said. "If you fight, the guards are forced to protect you. And you won't have to do this."

"2 guards?" Elijah said. "2 guards versus all of them?" Elijah pointed to the Bloods and I could see his point.

"But they still can't win. If something breaks out, the guards will win. They always do."

"And I could still die in the process. Thank you, but no thank you," he said.

The Bloods had made it all the way to us at this point.

"Yo, Terry," Prisoner #112144, Khalil Jackson spoke. He was in for a bank robbery that'd gone horribly wrong and resulted in the killing of a teller and security guard. Though he didn't pull the trigger, he still got life because he wouldn't rat on the other parties involved in the robbery. He was also one of the Bloods that I was on decent enough terms with, and probably the reason why the Bloods didn't run over here and start beatin' my ass as soon as I stepped to Elijah. "You betta' listen to the white cop, nigga."

I turned my head and looked back at the guard's station. Officer Tongis was coming down the steps and I could see Officer Melee loading his gun with these corks. The corks never pierce your skin when fired at you, but they hurt like hell when they plaster yo ass. Since Elijah wasn't taking my advice, I backed down from the group, but not before Cypress could come back and see what was going on.

In his hand, Cypress held a spoon and two towels. He looked in my eyes.

"You stepped to my nigga right after I claimed him?" Cypress asked. "Nigga, are you crazy?"

In looking at him, I could tell I was staring in the face of evil.

"You been here longer than me, ain't you?" he asked. "I still ain't fucked you yet either. You a sexy ass lil chocolate drop too," he licked his lips. The Bloods laughed. "You wanna take his place? You wanna hold my shirt tail nigga? You wanna be my bitch tonight?"

"I'm nobody's bitch!"

I didn't know for sure, but could have guessed that Hakim was behind me. And while standing behind me, he slipped one of his pencil-razors into my hand. I had my weapon, all I needed was for this bitch nigga to jump.

Officer Tongis banged his nightstick on the rail of the steps. "Terry, I'm not going to tell your ass again! Get in your cell!"

"Yeah Terry," Cypress mocked my name. "Get in your cell and mind your business."

I did, but not at the request of Cypress. It was at my own accord.

The tension settled down, and the Bloods returned to their card games. Cypress told Elijah to grab his shirt tail again, and led him upstairs into their cell for the night. It was 10 minutes until lights out... more available through Amazon. See my profile for details. 

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