Run

Change....

Devin

Tuesday
May 15, 2012
5:35 am

Louisiana State Penitentiary
Prison in West Feliciana Parish, Louisiana.

17544 Tunica Trace, Angola, LA 70712...

Every night, 5,300 convicted felons sleep within the walls of Louisiana State Penitentiary. Better known as Angola prison. Being that it was my few final hours here, I couldn't seem to sleep. My thoughts were depriving me from getting any kind of sleep. A nigga was restless and anxious. Only thing on my mind was my freedom. I wanted out. I've been here since May 15, 2010. I was 18. I'm 20 years old now and although I didn't have as long as some, being here was no cake walk.

I was locked up with niggas who wanted me dead from beef that started on the outside with me and niggas. Niggas were really at my head tough but more than a few old heads that were on death row had my back heavy. Majority of the niggas that were in here showed these old heads respect as well as fear. They were in there for murders and shit, I was locked up for having an illegal firearm on me. I was to have a longer sentence but shit was cut and from that court hearing, I did my best to stay out of trouble.

It was tough though because despite anything, niggas still tried me and the overall thing that took a toll on me was waking up to the same reality for so long, day after day, it was the same thing by force. When I was younger, I used to think that a day went by slow when I was free but shit, once your freedom is taken away, it's another story. I had to find distractions from the mental anguish that prison life had given off. To keep myself sane and not rebel. If I wasn't shooting the shit with the oldheads, I'd play dominos with a few of the young niggas that were my age, who wasn't on no bullshit.
But most of the time, I was working out, either in my cell or shit, in the field. And if I wasn't doing that, I'd write my people, read books and take time to actually think. Being that I was secluded from the real world, I had nothing but time to sit and think.

It was all a mental thing because if a nigga would've let my mind run rapid with the negative, I would've became suicidal, shit and the way these niggas were at me, I would've tried to murder one and then I'd be on death row. And lastly, I would've became a flight risk. You have to pray to God as well as force yourself not to cause harm to yourself, someone else or attempt to escape.

Being that this place was America's largest maximum security prison, your only way out of any sentence was deading yourself. That's the cruel reality. This shit felt like slavery, working out in the fields of this prison which was in actuality was a farm. Getting paid no more than ten cents an hour. Shit was killing me but what can you do when your well being, your freedom was in the hands of someone else?

After going through my daily routine in this hell hole, I found myself in my cell, lying down. Gazing at the tally marks that the previous inmates carved into the concrete walls of this tiny cubical.
I closed my eyes and awaited for my freedom to show face.

Resting my hands behind my head, I closed my eyes as I tuned out the faint sounds of the usual prison life on the other side of my cell. As my mind drifted back off to what I was anxious for, I couldn't help but hear the tumblers of the electric door click and with that, I opened my eyes to see one of the many officers.

I knew what this meant and with no hesitation, I was escorted from my cellblock and with that, I said my goodbyes to the niggas I rocked with that were out on their minor recess, shooting the shit.

After the process of changing from my jumpsuit to the clothes that I bought off commissary, I continued on with the basics as far as getting out. And with that, it was time to walk out of Angola prison. Taking a deep breath, I walked outside and at an instant, I felt the subtle breeze of freedom. Walking along the long walkway, a nigga didn't bother to look back. I made a promise to myself that'll I'll never go back to that bitch, so there's no reason to look back...