My little black book

My little black book of prison horrors.

Jail was a cold and eerie place for me. Days turned into nights, while nights seemed to never end. My so-called bed was a metal sheet, propped up on rickety, galvanized, legs. “Oh, you hoped for some quiet solitude?” I would often think to myself, while the creek of the bed pierced my inner eardrums with each and every toss and turn. My pillow was non-existent, my cell was rat- infested, and the smell of bleach and sewer filled my olfactory receptors.

I had very little. My roommate was frivolous. The adjacent cellmates were known to holler at each officer to promote a sense of arrogance. They would chatter amongst themselves or to their roommates, even when they did not have one. My minimal amount of monthly commissary just about paid for my basic essentials: a bar of soap, a pair of shower sandals, and a few honey buns. Those were my favorite.

I did have one thing though, A little black book. This was something that the state allowed me to keep when committed from medium to high security, for crimes I rather not speak of. However, catch me on a rather hyper-verbal and perseverative day and one of my personalities might tell you about them.

This little black book was my key to freedom. This book held my secrets, ambitions, and a multitude of ways to make money. Why money, you may ask? Because money holds power, respect, and a limitless amount of control. My plan started off miniscule, eagerly writing in this black book day after day, with ways to accumulate money. Until I was finally transferred back into what you would call, “civilization”, of medium security. This is where my plan would be executed.

I was creative, conniving, artistic, and most importantly charming. With these traits, I started to draw and create masterpieces to trade for items needed to survive. These acts made me well known; cellmates started to approach me during lunch and courtyard breaks, asking for creations to send home to their loved ones. This was it, this was my ticket into freedom, I could feel the tremble in my bones and the cold rush of heightened anxiety and excitement, flowing through my veins.

My little black book had come to my rescue once again. I was jotting down new ideas so quickly, that my calluses were forming around the shape of my pencil. What else could my witty personality bring to the table? Gambling. Why not? All I had is time, access to sports television, and my newfound posse to join in the usual games of blackjack, poker, spades, cassino, rummy, and bridge. These inmates did not know what was coming for them.

Days, weeks, months, and even several years had passed. With my black book of wonderous ideas by my side, I was living like a king in jail. Inmates either feared me or decided to stand by my side. Through the riots, the schemes, and the long days of gambling. Being a tenure of medium and high side security, I not only learned everything about the guarding officers, but I learned who was crooked and would allow me to break the law, as long as I did not cause chaos on their shifts.

My five-year mark hit. Not only had I made a name for myself throughout the entirety of this jail, but I also never lost track of my little black book or my goal to make millions. My bad deeds flew under the radar until I was integrated back into normal society and out of prison. I walked out of prison a free man, in my orange, tacky, jumpsuit, with my little black book in hand. Then the idea hit me like a riot punch to the face, hair pull to the ground, and the sting of mace in the eyes (a feeling known far too well). A book. I shall write a book! Looking down with a conniving grin on my face, I knew my little black book, once again, held all my answers.

You now know my secret. You have read all about how I have come to be. Not only have I overcome obstacles you could not even bare to fathom, but I have also become a millionaire. Writing my story, derived from my little black book of prison horrors, for people like you to buy and read.

Written by: Ashley Tillinghast. Written on: February 25th, 2021.