UNEXPECTED

We're on lockdown again. I'm sitting on my bunk, wondering how long we'll be trapped in our cell. As I did, I'm already reaching for my books. The goal was always the same: getting myself the hell out of here. My celly, he began complaining about being stuck in the cell, and that had me grabbing my headphones to block the negativity.

As the hours counted off, I did my morning routine on my bunk with the sun's rays illuminating my books. I'm reading up on making things viral, as Sexy Redd and Bruno Mars sing out lyrics for Fat, Juicy and Wet. That had me chuckling as my celly rapped my bunk. He's going in on Black History, watching a documentary of Black men in World War 2. I'm nodding my head, but still jotting notes on what I need for my content on TikTok to take off.

A few hours passed by, then we were ordered out of our cell. The day room was swarming with Strike Force, correction officers, the Major and the Assistant Warden. The K-9 unit had drug-sniffing dogs running past us, one of which nabbed my celly's wave cap, they told him to remove. The reality of being searched like hostages being placed in forced confinement shook my spirit up.

We're back in our cell being stripped one after another. That followed with orders for us to open our mouth, darting our tongue here and there, then raising our genitals, coughing as we squat and raise our bare feet. Dressed again, we're cuffed, then made to watch our property being violated. We had nothing and were marched back inside shortly thereafter, being complimented for having a tidy cell.

I made my bunk back up, then hopped back up there as my celly cleaned his area up, then washed the wall and floor, because everything smelled of the K-9 who searched our cell for any drugs.

I escaped into the remainder of my day, remembering the start of a new soap opera, Beyond The Gates on CBS. I was a fan of All My Children during its run, and General Hospital, but I lost my taste for them as I grew up. Now, being able to watch a soap opera from day one, I had to give it a chance. I did, and honestly, it made me think of Tyler Perry's TV shows and movies; Black families arguing over the dumbest crap. It even ended with a woman being smacked in her face. Maybe it'll get better?

Dinner arrived, but they only fed my celly. They never came with my tray, and my celly told me to yell for them to bring one. I didn't. I just ate some cookies, and crawled back on my bunk. I wasn't in the mood for a bout with staff about them giving me a tray, and me saying they didn't. So I munched on my cookies and watched the BBC News.

As night fell upon us, mail arrived. I received a request back for getting on the list to sign up for the summer semester for college. Well, if we're on lockdown all week, we'll probably have to reschedule...I hope. I also had a church pamphlet from my mother, her words of love littered the front page. That made me smile, because I know someone was praying for me.

I didn't remain up late. I never did on lockdown, because when it's time to come off, I didn't need my sleeping habit to change. So I'm in bed by 10:30 PM, out cold.

The following morning, I'm making sure I received my breakfast tray. Pancakes and Cheerios. I ate them, drank a cold milk, then cleaned up my person. My celly was already up, gripping about news of President Trump doing something crazy. I'm in my head, thinking about what I'll do to get myself out of prison, screw the news of the day, I mattered.

My window showed the world I missed. I'm sitting cross-legged, praying and reading my Bible. Once done, I'm staring at the trees saying, "I'm going home." This led me to picking up my journal and scribing what occurred during my early hours. As I did, I found myself thinking about my workbook I was creating.

I worked on making my peers better than their worst. That's why I made a unit that asked about their friends; were they a positive or negative influence on their life? I grinned as I completed it.

On the bunk, my celly heard a commotion and checked it out. Our unit was going to be taking a urine analysis, so now I'm being forced to hold my bladder at bay. Great. It took an hour before they reached our cell. The correction officer was cordial, but I wanted to make my deposit, but my celly went first...still complaining on how long it took for the CO to reach our cell. I filled my cup up next, being told I passed the urine analysis, then I washed up and made some taffy.

My celly asked why I was making it, and I shared I needed to make myself smile. So, I got to work making a lemon/strawberry flavored taffy while listening to Beethoven's Symphony No. 5 In C Minor. That took me somewhere pleasant, but in no time, I was back on my bunk.

I surfed through the limited TV choices, finding myself watching The Final Countdown. A time traveling movie about the attack on Pearl Harbor. It was pretty decent for its time (the 1980s, I think), but I tuned it out for my chance to catch up on ESPN.

The upcoming NFL Draft was being spoken on. That had me dreaming of finally witnessing my New York Jets selecting a starting quarterback. I knew it was only a dream, but it still placed a smile on my face.

My day continued on my bunk, and I still didn't know when I would be coming off this lockdown? Even as I didn't, I'm still going to own the day with my being positive and upbeat. So as I lay back, my head was in the clouds, making a pillow out of something soft and free. Lockdown was an unexpected consequence of mass incarceration, but it didn't take me away from my goal of making myself the best version possible. So, I'll continue to do so as I make each second of my somewhat quiet contemplation to figure out a plan of action for my release.

Nothing else mattered, unexpected or not. I'm getting myself free of this existence.