Megan
After not hearing from him since the county jail I've finally managed to get ahold of Shawn.
I hate the nigga, really. But I can't afford to completely cut ties because he's my only way out.
Apparently the owner of the gun and the murder has yet to be found.
The story is sketchy but as long as my name is cleared and I can get out, I don't care for anything beyond that. Their sentences can be served without me.
My lawyer let me know that before we can even discuss my sentence being reduced, they need to clear my fingerprints on a few things, even though I don't recall holding any weapon of any kind and any time. As long as cooperate this can go smoothly.
I feel like I've learned my lesson by being with him and having this happen in a way. He made red flags look like decorations.
I wait behind Beyoncé in line as we are taken to the visitation/phone stations.
Beyoncé intrigues me in all honesty. We began speaking a little more slowly but surely. In a way I wish we could have met in other circumstances. Like at a store or at a restaurant. Even while my trial is pending, I feel like I have hardly enough time to know her, yet all of the time in the world. I like her, definitely, but it's weird with her at the same time.
Her walk is assertive and calm. She's distinct, she's Beyoncé. There's no confusing her with any other bitch here.
We arrive and I walk to the telephone with the other girls. While I dread it, I dial Shawn's number. Things need to be made clear.
I will admit I babied Shawn. We met in high school and started off as friends. He confided in me with his traumas and I felt for him. Later on he would have a breakdown, hurt me verbally or physically then bring up a story about how his parents were tough on him, I'd forgive and move on. He would make me take the fall for his antics and I allowed it because I felt he didn't deserve more. For months I've been searching for a way to get out of it because this feels like clockwork.
On top of that I've been suspecting him of cheating.
I wanna feel safe and appreciated and cared for in a relationship, not opposite.
Since I've arrived I've beaten myself over it. By the end of week two I realized it would do me no good.
I hear two rings and he picks up.
"Hey!"
It's enough to make my damn blood boil.
"Listen, I heard what you told my lawyer. Thank you."
"See baby! I just wanted to help."
He sounds disgustingly happy. He should be the one locked up not me. He does the little innocent baby voice to try to make me smile and feel bad. Thank god he's not in front of my face or the anger in me woulda had him laid out like he did to my resolve.
"No no no. Listen Shawn, I don't want shit to do with you anymore. We're through, I will be contacting you regarding my case and that only."
"Why baby?" He's not even trying to be subtle anymore, it's scaring me. "I talked to your lawyer and cleared your name—"
I refuse to let him get me started on the fact he wasn't there when I woke up. Just knew I was gonna get swept up by the cops and allowed it.
"You threw me under the bus constantly and this time I'm in prison."
"Baby..."
"No, if it's not about my case, dead it." I feel good standing up to him. "We done. All I need you to do, if find me a lawyer."
While I register my actions I pull the phone away and look to Beyoncé visiting with another woman, hang up then walk away to give someone else a chance to call.
____
The minute I got back to the cell I've been in tears. Still am. My lawyer (that Shawn found) gave me no hope. Just chastised me the entire time. Higgins was in charge of me and you can bet his ass was smirking up a storm in the corner.
There's more bad than there is good. I was expecting bad news but felt worse when I actually got it. Everything lies in Shawn's hands now.
The lawyer tried to convince me to take a plea deal which would involve me pleading guilty, for something I didn't do. She tried to use my prints on the gun as an "excuse" to why I may not be believed, even though I've never used those guns to begin with and never even saw them when I was coming in from my trip. It was completely sketchy but of course that would be the case since Shawn made the arrangements. He chose the option that would benefit him. He knows I'm not going to be forgiving once I get out.
Might actually return for clocking his ass to the next continent.
I wipe my face in my sheets and try to keep my emotions low. Don't need anyone else coming at me for my tears.
The karma got me good and I can say I've learned my lesson. Never will I ever get myself tangled up in the law again. Never again will I make the mistake of trusting Shawn again. Never again will I spend another moment in that godforsaken apartment. I'll make the arrangements to stay with one of my friends until I finish college.
I go tense when I feel Beyoncé's presence in the room. She says nothing and looks t me with a small smile. It warms me up.
"You gon' be okay?" She asks softly.
"Think so." I respond. "Hope so."
She nods and gets busy in a book. I transition from quiet sobs to sniffling and eventually calm down. I won't lie, Beyoncé comforts me in a way. I stare pridefully since her attention is elsewhere. I entrance myself in her features.
It shocked me to find that Beyoncé's been here for quite the time. It shocked me when she told me she murdered. It made sense why she wasn't as riled up like the other girls about it. In b-block the girls found a way to let their charges to be known, Beyoncé seems to want to stray from it. She told me she regretted it though.
I watch quietly as she inhaled and rubs her hand over her stomach, passing the book into her opposite hand.
I can tell that Beyoncé is holding back, but it's not my job to bring it out. What would it matter either as well? Hopefully I'll be out of here within the next 6 months. (At least). Why am I so worried about figuring this girl out?
After a while of me staring at her Beyoncé puts her book down.
"Must you stare so hard?"
"What? I can't use my eyes?" I respond playfully.
She's hot and I'm pretty sure she knows. So what if I admire her? Not like there's anyone else in this cell to look at.
She laughs lowly. A from-the-stomach belly laugh. For a second I feel called out because the woman sees right through me. She knows I'm getting over Shawn—-quickly, not that that was already going on. I bury my smirk under my blanket.
Beyoncé is making me look like a lovesick school girl. Not sure if I should punch her in the shoulder for that or be happy.
