• 𝐁𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐀𝐰𝐚𝐲 •
August.27.2020
• 𝑰 𝑲𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝑰 𝑩𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝑨𝒘𝒂𝒚 •
KT sat on the concrete ground outside the facility that held him for 2 years. 2 long depressing years. He was waiting for his parole officer to come pick him up so he could get his ankle monitor and go over all the technicalities — rules and such — but they were running late.
He wanted nothing else than to just walk, nowhere in particular but he felt like even in just the 2-3 years he was holed up, the world had changed. He wanted to see what had changed.
Even so, the guards that stood watch outside the prison knew not to let KT out of their sight until his parole officer showed up. The walk would have to wait.
Ain't even really free. He thought with a scoff, his hands running through the patchy grass that grew sporadically through the concrete.
KT's mind wandered off while waiting — from his mom and sisters, to his homeboys, his enemies, everything. Everything came crashing in.
It's not like he didn't think of them or these things while he was locked up, but after a certain point you realize you can't escape those four walls and what's the point in worrying when you can't do anything. You can't call everyday or at every moment, you can't tell these people ' oh hold up,my family going through something, I'll be back ' . It didn't work like that.
So after time passes your mind forgets to worry about those things. Of course you're still going to think about them. ' I wonder what mama is cooking right now? ' ' I wonder how Zeek n em doing?' 'I hope Raine and Kiara keep their grades up!' .
You get the occasional 5-10 minute call, the one that always makes your chest tighten up and your body twitch, you start to fight with yourself — your better judgment. Your feet want you to just walk out the front door but you know the only way, in that moment, that you would get out would be in a body bag.
KT's body tensed up when he felt a hand land on his shoulder, he stood up quickly and faced the culprit. A middle aged black man. Medium build — you could tell he worked out occasionally but drank just as occasionally.
" Don't touch me." KT's voice was gruff. He didn't talk a lot while he did his bid, he felt no reason to so his voice matured to what it felt it needed to.
" I apologize. My name is Mr. Jackson and I'm your parole officer. While you were zoned out I already confirmed your departure with the guards so we're free to go." Mr. Jackson gestured to his car, parked several feet away from them.
KT glanced at the man, sizing him up — a habit of his — before making his way to the passenger side and getting in.
Mr. Jackson followed slightly behind KT, he didn't want to bother the young man. He knew that being jumpy and cautious about most things was common amongst newly released people.
"Kenji, is it?" Mr. Jackson asked as he started his car.
" Preferably Katan or KT."
" Nicknames? What's the origin of them?"
KT's jaw clenched " I don't really want to talk about it right now." He hoped Mr. Jackson got the hint.
"Understandable," Jackson shifted in his seat " How does it feel being free and all? Fresh air, nice weather too." Still trying to make unwarranted conversation.
"Free?" KT scoffed " if I was free I would be riding home in my homeboy car first instead of yours. I'm not free, not totally until these 6 months is up."
" When that time is up, then ask me that shit but for right now Mr. Jackson, I mean this in the most respectful way , leave me alone and get us to where we gotta be, so we can do what the fuck we gotta do. I'm dirty, I'm hungry, and I'm tired. The last thing I'm trying to do is have a conversation with a ni- man who gon' be babysitting me for the next 6 months."
• 𝑫𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝑳𝒆𝒕 𝑴𝒆 𝑫𝒐𝒘𝒏, 𝑫𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝑫𝒐 𝑴𝒆 𝑾𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈 •
" You have a total of 280 hours of community service that needs to be completed. 40 hours of community service is the minimum monthly requirement. The amount can be spaced out however you deem fit as long as you don't break curfew." Mr. Jackson explained. He had already gone over curfew rules, drug tests, possessions of any illegal weaponry – the common rules.
KT was set to see Mr. Jackson on Thursday of every other week — his living quarters were to be checked once a month but if any suspicions arose then at any given time could someone pop up on him.
"When you find the institution or institutions that you would like to complete your community service at, have them contact me or you can contact me and I'll handle that for you." Jackson sorted through files as he listed the things KT needed to know.
"If you can not find at least one place of service within 14 days I will be advised to pick an institution for you." KT made a mental note to start looking into it as soon as he got settled, he didn't want Mr. Jackson giving him something he distasted.
If he had to do community service — which he did — he wanted it to be something he enjoyed or that didn't annoy him. Something that wasn't repetitive.
" You have to attend counseling." KT rolled his eyes " it's already been placed for you, there's an office down the road from here, you'll have an appointment every Friday, the only thing you have to sort out is what time you feel most comfortable appearing at and who you would like to be your counselor."
" You have 6 write outs, you can only get out of 6 sessions, after that — it's an invasion of your parole. Choose wisely."
" If at any time you obtain a job or enroll into school or any educational program, I am to be informed. Y'know, so I can know your whereabouts and make sure you're staying on track." Mr. Jackson slid a paper towards KT.
" This is a closure to compliance, sign here" he flipped a page " and here." He sat the pen down beside the paper.
KT signed the papers with angst.
"Any questions before I put the ankle monitor on? oh and here's a packet of everything we discussed, there are addresses and numbers of the places I mentioned, forms and such."
"Nah," KT mumbled, " just can I use the phone when you're done."
•𝑰 𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝑾𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝑻𝒐 𝑲𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝑰𝒕'𝒔 𝒀𝒐𝒖, 𝑴𝒚 𝑭𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅•
Zeek got out of his car and rounded it, coming face to face with KT.
His best friend, his brother from another mother. His day 1 A1.
KT's father was Zeek's godfather, and Zeek's father was KT's — making them god brothers. They've been attached to each other since they were babies and to this day nothing has changed.
"Stop fucking playin' with me." Zeek grabbed KT and hugged him. " Stop playin' with me!" He repeated over and over. Zeek leaned back and stared at KT taking in his matured features — not believing what he was seeing — before going back to hugging him.
KT could feel his thin shirt being soaked with Z's tears, prompting the ones that stayed unushed to flow down his face. He didn't care who saw, he didn't care what stigma he was breaking.
He missed this. For 2 ½ years he missed this, he missed feeling just love instead of the sorrow and sadness mixed with it.
"Why didn't you tell no one you were getting out?!" Zeek asked, his voice thick from crying.
KT wiped at his eyes " I wanted to surprise y'all. " He chuckled " I really ain't even believed them when they told me, thought they was cracking one on me."
"I ain't want no one to get they hopes up, cruel shit for y'all to be excited for nothing. " Zeek nodded in understanding.
Zeek examined their surroundings, noticing the prying eyes, he nudged KT towards the car " getcho ass in, not trying to have folks all in our business." KT nodded and hopped in.
"Still could've came and got yo ass." Zeek grumbled as they pulled off.
"Nah, I had to get this shit." KT flashed his ankle monitor.
Zeek side eyed it " How long?"
"6 months, hella community service and some extra shit."
Zeek rolled his eyes, Always something with these fed ass niggas, man. He thought.
"How everybody tho?" KT asked, he couldn't deny that his nerves were starting to build up, his mind wandered to his Mom and his sisters. The fact that he would be able to reach out to them — to hug them without consequence or restraint, it was starting to sink in for him.
"Good, you probably gon' have to see ya moms and sisters later, they at work and school right now." Zeek always made sure they were straight.
It took a toll on everyone when KT got locked up, especially his mom, so whenever Zeek and the others could help out they did.
It never was out of ' IOU' or a get back card for later, it was always out of love. My family is yours and vice versa.
"Thank you." KT said.
"Fa' what?" Zeek scrunched up his face, already knowing where this was headed.
"Don't say no stupid shit either Katan, you know what type of timing we be on so don't thank me for no shit that's already understood."
"Ok, it's still appreciated. You ain't had to do the shit you did, regardless of what the fuck I did and where the fuck I was. Fuck what you sayin', I'm still grateful. So thank you. "
Zeek did not like being thanked, especially by someone who he knows would do the same for him — no questions asked. Being thanked, to him, was as if he had gone out of his way to do it — and that has never been the case, it was second nature to him.
Zeek stopped at the red light and glanced over at his brother " aight, but it better be the only thank you I'm getting, bet not hear that shit again. "
KT wanted to object but he just nodded, not wanting to fight on his first day out.