Christ Over - Daniel R. Angel

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Thrillers  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 3 (v.1) - Christ Over Daniel R. Angel

Submitted: January 24, 2012

Reads: 173

A A A | A A A

Submitted: January 24, 2012



By the nineth grade the old man is gone out of state. He moved back home, leav-
ing us. Granted the old lady chased him off, but that far? I think he planned
for us to forget him, like his dad did to him. The old lady is getting child
support for me now from the old man. Not long after I get kicked out of the
old ladies house. We live thirteen miles from school and no bus rides there.
I move in with a friend in town. My friend`s mom is a mom, truely. I tell her
I will get her a surprise, something real goo, for her helping me. Her boyfriend
happened to be there, drunk, waiting on a ride. He heard me and got scared I was
moving on his woman. He got up and walked to me and proceeded to whoop on me.
This friends mom put a whoopin on this guy like I was her own child. Thanks Dianne.

I never asked for money from anyone. Not even from my brother who is a senior and
still lives at home. So it is obvious, the old lady just don`t want me, just the
child support check. So I had some pot I got from my brother a week before. I need
to eat lunch. Simple, sell some bud, I can eat. Within a week I am busted. Set up
by a student wearing a wire for the city police, on my lunch hour. I never did get
to eat lunch that day... Now the old lady is a sheriff`s deputy, and her budding
boyfriend is also, in fact, this guy lives at our house, he knows she is mean to me.
But he never does anything. Now I get put in jail, and I go to court that after-
noon. I know all of these people, they are usually nice. Not this time. I am the
public enemy number one, the destroyer of schoolchildrens lives. This is also my
first offense. My court appointed lawyer tries for a foster home. But he warns me
that the old lady is pushing for brighton juvenile jail, and they all know eachother
and she might get it. Of course I go to brighton, the judge doesn`t think twice.

I get transfered there by the old ladies boyfriend. The old man tries to stop the
child support payments, but the old lady has already made sure that she will still
get the money. See, I have to have a home to return to, so payments continue, under
penalty of law.

I walk in chains. Hands cuffed in front tied to a chain about my waist. My feet
ars shackled together, the chain from my waist tied to the shackles as well. buzzz.
"Can I help you?" the speaker asks. "Logan county with one" the deputy says back.
Soon a key is heard in the lock. (Did I just see a what the fuck look?) Inside
the intake area I can see through plexiglass windows to a common area, the floor.
Kids everywhere. One of them says "logan county." Soon every kid there is at the
windows. Then I see him, he is looking straight at me. I know him. The last time
I seen him he was chasing me for switching his brothers with a weeping willow branch.

Now he is pointing at me, then to himself. Shit. I`m dead. Then as I pay attention
to him, he is telling me I have no problems there. ? . The workers there seen the
commotion, so they asked him if there is a problem? Martha tells me he is trying to
say that since my old lady let his mom into the logan county jail anytime to visit
him and bring him fast food, that he is going to repay that. No one is to fuck with
me. He is the biggest kid in there, always was. That night in a cell alone, I woke
up sometime in the night to throw up. It hit me then, the only one who cares for me
is the biggest sleeper you ever saw. I remember the old lady helping him when he was
in the logan county jail. She felt logan county was scewing him over, since this was
his first offense also. So it made sense talking with some workers in time, the,
what the fuck, look. They knew there that logan county was full of kids with badges,
and a judge panel to back it up. Now, do I know some shit about about the ones that
did not kill themselves? COCCL doodle doo. Corrupt motherfuckers. Let me deviate and
tell you a little story about a cop who would not stop and let good life be. Paradoxed
that motherfucker. Pretend now boy. You caught me once, but you`ll never catch me again.
Now you know why you let me go that time, you got poled. I seen you come look to make
sure I got out of town. I was still driving, watching you. Too easy. If you knew half
the shit I Know your fuzzy little heads would pop off, and to think I worry of your
half minded asses comming for me...please, fuck with me. I like to fuck and corruption
is top of my list with playing God. Bill Murray, I know who took your mug shot and
file from logan county records when you got arrested for hitch hiking on your way to
hollywood. think it was thrown away, then burned. Don`t drive angry...where was I?

The old lady starts to feel bad after a month or so. She signs me up in drug and alcohol
treatment in ft. collins. It is the best she can do to get me
out of jail, she says. Soon a deputy arrives from logan
county to transport me to treatment. I smoked pot before, the ammount totalling a
few grams at this point. I cannot stand alcohol, I always get beat when it is a-
round. I am now in a place where they think they know all about you, before you get
there. And if I do not admit my drug and or alcohol problem I will never get better.
What a mind job. A lady took the time to listen to me. That was all it took for
me to realize, help is everywhere. There was, I tell you, some real people in logan
county, with badges, that I truely liked. I liked to think they would move and become
better than `the curve`(?). Upon arrival to treatment in chains, I notice this is not
a locked facility, doors are wide open. But you never know, I was pretty dangerous
back then, so maybe the chains were needed. Now I went through the, I don`t have an
addiction, there. One counselor there took the time from the `program` to hear me. I
was kept there for fifty eight days out of a fourty five day program, the extra days
free. They tried to keep me there as long as possible, but the old lady got wind and
the deputies came back with thier chains and took me back to brighton juvenile jail.

I have been in maybe ten fistfights by this time in my life. I grew up in front of
kung fu theatre every weekend. I would learn the movements deftly, but it was all I
could learn with the tube as my master. Everytime I got in a fistfight all of that
television fu went right out the window. But in this place it all starts to make
sense. Philosophy. My second time in jail for the same offense is a bit different.
My friend has been sent to juvenile prison, I am on my own. The new big kid is a
fighter. He will swing first and ask later. I knew when a kid smaller than me said
something he didn`t like and lost four front teeth. After his one week confinement,
he was straight on my ass. I guess since I kept the place calm that week I was a
threat to his authority. Workers there were waiting. He was told not to get into
another fight or he will be confined for the duration of his stay. As soon as he
hit the floor, he bee lined for me. I was playing spades and barely ducked out of
my seat as the punch whooshed where my ear was. Pete was one of many great people
that worked there, short but all heart, he was on this kid twice his size instantly.
Pete is a grown man, built thickly. He cuffs this kid while on the kids back, legs
wrapped he leans to the side and they hit the floor. They took that kid to the
county jail instead. His minions did not like that, and I was still public enemy
number one. (Does it ever pay to try and help?). Out of the fifty kids there, I am
alone against at least fifteen. The other thirty five just want peace. Those fif-
teen minions are in the power vacuum for a day, so far I am safe. Intake is looking
like they are expecting some one. Walking in on the other side of that plexiglass is
a kid shorter than any, easy. Medium long straight black hair just over the eyes.
He is at the window looking at us, still in his chains. Now we see this, when a big
kid is comming in looking for the competition. After the intake process he is on the
floor. When he parts his hair, his eyes show. Oriental. He walks around looking
at the place, then sits at the table next to the one I am at, our chairs close. We
talk. He is just doing his time like I am. I will call him Tea. The shortest
Chinese kid I ever met. The vacuum stopped. I asked Tea why he was there. He said
he was at a denver juvenile facility, but the big kid and his minions would try to
take his food from right off his tray. But he wouldn`t let them, thus having to whoop
thier asses. So the system moved him to this facility. We all heard the big fish
ones before, but he was too cool in everything he did. But that wasn`t what I meant.
Why are you in jail? He says he was with some friends. He knew they were stealing
from cars, but did not participate. One night those friends see a party going on.
They try thier chances. When they get caught, Tea watches them get thies asses
kicked. He said they had it coming. But five of them won`t stop. Tea gets out of
the car and tells them to stop. They go after him, leading to all five going to the
ground. Now I am intrigued. "Do you know Kung Fu?" I asked. He wouldn`t say. It
was the next day when we all knew the answer to that. I didn`t see it. There was one
pool table and my name came up on the list. Some kids watching t.v., some in the rec
room playing volleyball. Some one tossed the ball to the other side so they could
serve. The ball hit Tea in back of the head. He spun around in the air so fast, he
had time to find the agressor and kicked it straight into the wall, rebounding to the
other side before it hit the ground. No question. This is his place, and no one
ever tried to claim different. After a few months, Tea left there. He knew I was
the target there, and put me into reality; they will come after you when I am gone.
Through his insight, that never happened, and peace remained after he was gone.

After a while the old lady gets me released to her custody. How can she get the
judge to do anything she wants? Corrupt motherfuckers. At home the old lady starts
the ass whooping again. I caught her hands in mid air and told her that is the end
of that shit. In her everquest to prove she is the all mighty, she grabs the phone.
She does not dial nine eleven, she dials her work office, logan county sheriff`s
office. Soon a deputy arrives to see the old lady all worked up. He tells me to sit
on the couch and wait. They go into the kitchen, I follow and listen from the corner.
He is out of control, she tells him. He asks her what she wants to do. She wants me
back in lock up. I ran straight out the front door, quietly. That motherfucker was
on my ass in his patrol car through half the town, me bobbing and weaving. I made it
to the football field. Shit. The gate is open and he can drive right on the field.
I finally made it to the river, out of breath, but safe from those crooked motherfuckers.
They will search for me, I know. I hide whithin some cows a few miles upriver.
There is the maroon impala. They are looking. I might as well sleep, can`t move until
dark now. After dark I made it to the interstate, walking to the nearest phone. I
called the old lady to see my situation. I have a warrant for my arrest. She still
comes and gets me and hides me in the house. I got sentenced to two years in juvenile
prison in front of the judge not long after that. I was learning so much I never got
the prison mindset, just more knowledge, more input. I am coming alive. I didn`t care
how the scams worked, I was studying the people.



Mountain View. Lakewood, Colorado. Assessment is the first stop for every sleeper.
Not juvenile jail. Here all the kids are mixed. Killers, thieves, rapists, and a
lot of innocent. Here there are two bullies in charge. One is the biggest by far at
six feet five inches and hauling over two hundred pounds. He is a rolling sixties
crip, he says. The other is smaller, but a good one eighty. They like to fight
two on one...

I do not have a high score against me. That score decides where you go to do your
sentence. I got to community placement. I get to do my two year sentence in Estes
Park. Once in highschool there, I start to hear stories, about me. There is a girl
at the school, her dad knows the guy who signed up to help kids like me. So they know
I am from juvy. Another girl there has a boyfriend that was at assessment when I was.
Remember, this is highschool. I have a reputation my first day as an ass kicker. It
was about twenty seconds after I told them the horses mouth version of the assessment
fight that one kid says there are two freshmen that say they can whoop any sophmore.
Highschool. I cannot fight or I am back in jail. But when these two came up to size
me up, I took offense to it, literally. Both in front asking if it is true what is be-
ing said about me, I ask what do you think. They want to fight, thier reputations are
on the line now. I know rough. These two are not it. Both at the same time I ask.
Dumbfounded they look at eachother, must have hit a scared nerve there, it is both at
the same time. FTW fight the war . My arms being crossed kept them confident. But
when I unfolded my arms, fisted, one got knocked down holding his jaw. The other is
looking for blood with his fingers. He looks at me, rage filling in. Crescent kick
to the head, time. I was scared of jail, but not of bullies. In the principal`s of-
fice I am apologized to, by the principal. They knew of those two making the claim,
but it was at the start of the school year. I got there later. This is looking good.

Now I have never been the popular one at school, until now. I am a sophmore, and I
have the attention of girls from nineth through twelfth. I want to get along with
every one. Some junior and senior boys are not liking me. They want me to get my
ass kicked, but none want to try alone. So the word at school is I will have them all
on me at the bowling alley this friday. I know a lot of defense at this time, but I
searched my mind for more defense. Tea. I know Tea`s phone number. That friday I
went in the alley first. They see me, chests puff up. In comes Tea and two of his
students. Two of the guys that were stealing, he will only teach you if you are good,
and they figured it out. When they get beside me, I point to the problem area. Tea
says they can fight me one at a time, as cool as ever. The backbone of that crew lost
his. They apologized for being asses, and there will never be another problem. It
was true. Since I was a model for rehabilitation, I got paroled that year, right back
to the old lady. Shit...





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