Anneewakee: One Boy's Journey

Chapter 3

I sat nude on the cold floor and looked down at my body. For the first time since I'd arrived at this God-forsaken place, I began to cry. Just how in the fuck, did I end up in this room, naked and crying like a baby, I wondered. What had I done, so terrible, to deserve this?

I began to pound my fists on the ground. I had a full out temper tantrum for about thirty minutes and then I stopped. I sucked it up then, and told myself to stop crying. I was no goddam baby. I was tough. I had been through worse than this. I asked myself what the fuck I was crying for? If anyone could get through some bullshit, it was me. I knew that for a fact. And so I sucked it up and stopped crying. And then I began to laugh. Because, really, at that point my entire life was starting to look like one really bad joke.

Let me jump ahead here for a second, if you wouldn't mind. I'm an adult now- obviously- and sometimes when I'm riding down the road, I'll see some kid in the back of some beat up old station wagon or some thing, and the kid will be staring out the window looking all lost, looking miserable, wanting to be anywhere than where they are. I know the look. That was me and so I recognize it instantly. And not just because their car isn't up to date, that's not what I mean. What I mean is, I know what it is to have absolutely nothing. For your family to have nothing and I know how it makes you miss out on a lot. So when I see some shitty car going down the road and my eyes drift from the kid in the backseat, to the person at the wheel, vacant expression on their face and having that very distinct "strung out" look to them, on whatever it is that they are on, drug or drink, or even just extreme stupidity and bad decisions, I feel so hard for that kid because that kid was me. That kid was my sister. And I know that that kid is in for one hell of a hard time.

But I also know that it isn't entirely Big Mama's fault. She made terrible decisions, yeah, and sometimes she wasn't the best mother but I know that she was doing the best she could. It's just that, sometimes it was like she was missing a common sense chip or something. But I've come to realize that some parent's are just that way, they can't help it.

So I was sitting there naked and then I started laughing. Nothing about the situation I was in was funny but it occurred to me just how ludicrous all of this was. I was a good guy. I was no threat to society. I was the one constantly being victimized! But somehow, it was me, (Me!) who'd ended up being locked away. Why was I being punished? And why, was my grown-ass sitting here with no clothes on? This was outrageous. Fucking stupid.

Lucky for me, I'd never been the suicidal type, I always considered that the pussy way out. Believe it or not, with all I'd seen and been through in my fifteen years, I had a strong will to live and a strong desire to do something with myself. And I knew that I would just have to keep trudging forward, like the soldier that I was. That was something I used to pretend to be a lot when I was a kid; a soldier. I saw whatever nappy neighborhood we were living in as my battleground and sometimes I imagined Big Mama was the dead soldier I had to carry on my back. It sure did feel like I was carrying a dead man on my back at times.

Soldiers battled all kinds of horrific things and they sure didn't cry about it. And I wasn't going to cry about this. I was going to fight the battle that was before me and I was going to win, goddammit.

Just as I was thinking these thoughts, my food tray door opened and a man said loudly, "Put these on!" and threw a pair of white boxer shorts into my room. I stood up and walked to the door. I slipped the boxers on and peeked through the food tray slot. There were a group of staff members standing against the wall talking. I couldn't hear what they were saying but they were deeply involved in some discussion.

I went back to where I had been sitting and sat back down. I wondered, just what in the hell was going to happen now?

About an hour later I heard my door being unlocked. I looked up to see Mr. Ridgefield coming into my cell. He told me to stand up, with my back against the wall. So I did. Then he said, "So you think you're a tough guy?"