This is my correspondence with with an inmate in the penitentiary when I was in high school. I have never been able to forget this letter.
Dear Inmate #6580123
I am a student in Clovis High School and have a report to write for my end of year project. I am hoping that you can possibly answer a couple questions for me? If so my questions are:
- How long are you there for?
- What is the most exciting story from when you grew up?
Thank you in advance for your answers.
Nate
Clovis High School
Nate
To answer your questions, I have a life sentence. I ain't never getting out of here.
As a kid we watched the movie over and over again. Full Metal Jacket became our Bible, our example, our way of life. It was due to this fact that she became my companion. It was an insidious nature she had and a surreal effect on my sense of reality. More to say I felt like Superman when she was with me and could perform extreme acts that I never would have thought possible.
It started with a simple encounter on the sidewalk outside The Electric Company bar in downtown Fresno. The man looked homeless, disheveled and scruffy, but the gleaming newness of her made me disregard the man's clear dishonesty and my unanswered questions. The price was too good and it didn't matter her history. Everyone has a history, even me, despite my young age.
I hadn't been with her for more than a month before my world changed. We were constantly together and I always had my hand on her. I couldn't let her out of my sight and my grip, to the point I started to become restless and a bit, shifty. The obsession with Full Metal Jacket had me sitting on my bed holding her repeating, "THIS IS MY PISTOL THIS IS MY GUN! THIS IS FOR FIGHTING THIS IS FOR FUN! THIS IS MY PISTOL, THERE ARE MAN LIKE HER, BUT THIS ONE IS MINE!" I realized that we needed to do something, which is where it all kicked into gear. Being Fresno, the biggest thrill was the drug trade, which paid the way of most of the criminals and cops alike. This seemed like the most logical place to start.
We started small, just a couple ounces of crystal, pack of slicks, and shit scale, but that was all it took those first two weeks to make some cash and get the taste for the game. The most disconcerting part was that she only had to show herself once those two weeks, which made me think something wasn't right. I remember clearly pushing it out of my head.
Things really blew up when some shit decided to jump me and try to gank my stash. It was a quick and fast fight, but she put him in his place. The moment she erupted and laid into the shit, I understood the enormity of her gift. She had given me the gift of judgement, not just of myself, but of every other person I came in contact with. This gift redefined my entire existence and paved the path to the person and the circumstances I have now.
So my most exciting story? If you think sitting in a cell is cool then my whole teens was exciting, but if you like your bed then you best not follow my path. My story is a warning. Do like me, end up like me.
This is my FICTION entry for the Creative Writing Challenge - Task #7 - The Objects put on by @steemfluencer. The details are as follows:
Take a look at the objects below and write a story based on a predefined idea.
(see link above)
Here's a list with all predefined ideas:Without excuses: write about someone who never gave up until he has achieved a certain goal.
Old memories: a fictional essay about someone who's sharing his most exciting story from his youth.
A Tree of Life: a non-fictional essay about life, compromises and self-awareness.Some of the best writers and creative writing teachers point out the need to write about objects. They criticize the idea to >use too many abstract ideas, and actually believe that writing about any objects is the key to explain an idea in an excellent >way.
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