Somehow ending his life began mine. I felt powerful and strong, like I could do anything, and nobody could stop me.
That was, until the cops came and took my ass to jail for murder. And do you know that bitch wouldn’t testify for me at my trial? She told the cops that he never touched me, and he didn’t rape either one of us. Stupid bitch, scared to death of a dead man.
On my second day at the juvenile facility, this big burly lookin’ girl cut in front of me in the food line. I let that pass, ’cause I didn’t give a fuck.
But I started paying attention to this bitch, seein’ how she ro
lled. She had everybody in our buildin’ scared to death of her. I stayed out of her way for the next couple of weeks. At the time, my thinkin’ was, you know, mind your business, stay out of trouble, do your time and get out of there.
It didn’t work out that way. Shit never fuckin’ does.
Our next confrontation came in the cafeteria again, when she knocked my tray out of my hands.
"You shouldn’t be so clumsy, bitch," she said to me.
"Who you callin’ a bitch, bitch?" I said, and stepped to her. Then the poo-lice came and got between us.
"What’s goin’ on here?"
"She threw her tray at me," the bitch lied.
Not only did I have to clean up her mess, but since the bitch told them that I threw the tray at her, they took me to the detention unit. Might as well call it what it was—they threw my ass in the hole for two days.
I knew what I had to do.
When I got out and went back to my buildin’, I played it cool, but I had a plan for that bitch. For the next few days, I walked around the yard, picking up rocks.
Once I thought I had enough, I put all the rocks in a sock and waited for my time. After lights out that night, I made my move to her bed with the sock full of rocks behind my back.
"What you want, bitch?" she asked when she looked up and saw me standing there.
"For you to die," I said, and beat her wit’ it. I don’t know how many times I hit her, but there was blood everywhere. Then I took her pillow and put it over her face until she stopped moving.
She was dead.
The feeling I got while I was killin’ her was indescribable.
I went around to everybody and gave each one of them a rock, and told them to get rid of it. After that, I was the big bitch in the room. Now they were all scared to death of me. And nobody fucked wit’ me for the rest of my bid.
When I got out, I thought I needed a change of scenery, so I went to California. I had been out there chillin’ in LA for a couple of months. LA was nice, and I liked it out there. Anyway, one night I was buyin’ some green, you know, to get my head right; and the mutha fucka cheated me on some weight.
"Yo, this shit light than a mutha fucka."
"That’s an ounce, baby girl. I weighed it myself just ’fore you got here."
"Then your scale is broke. Why you tryin’ to cheat me, nigga?"
"Fuck you, bitch. Take that shit and get the fuck out."
"Fuck that, nigga. Gimme my fuckin’ money back."
"I ain’t givin’ you shit. You need to take what you got, and get the fuck outta here ’fore I kick your ass."
That’s when I put my hand on my knife. "You ain’t kickin’ this ass. Not today."
"Fuck you, bitch," he said, and started toward me like he was gonna do something. I pulled out my blade and next thing you know, it was sticking in his chest.
"Fuck you!" I shouted.