and I will see you soon.
Love Always,
Your best cousin Lawanda.
Kima could not control the tears streaming down her face as she folded her letter and placed it back in the envelope. Reading about Kori doing so well and that he had already moved on with his life was enough to send Kima into a yearlong depression.
The worst of it though, was picturing some other chick sleeping next to him in her bed. That shit made Kima boil inside with anger. Kima had regretted that she didnât snitch on Kori and tell the cops where she had gotten the drugs. She was still kicking the shit out of herself for that move. Kima didnât know if it was out of love or fear that she decided not to tell. She had taken the full fall for the drugs and on the urging of her public defender Kima had pled guilty to two counts criminal possession of cocaine. The prosecutor had agreed to drop the other ten possession counts, the charge of intent to distribute, and the criminal enterprise charges as part of the plea agreement. Kima had been offered a lesser sentence if she would cooperate with the narcotics officers, but she had refused. Even when they had yelled in her face and threatened to take her baby away as soon as he was born, Kima still stayed loyal to Kori. Even after her baby died and he had left her for dead, Kima didnât tell. Somewhere deep down inside, she held out hope that he would come around and get her the assistance she needed. It never happened. All of those sacrifices she made for him, just for him to turn around and betray her.
* * *
Kima lay down on her bunk and just cried. The unit she was on housed women at high risk of being injured in general population so it was an open dorm style area. It was part of the infirmary unit inside the womenâs jail. Most of the general population inmates said the letters PC, in protective custody, really stood for pussy city. Kima didnât care. She knew that once she got upstate, life in prison would take on a whole different dimension. She just hoped that she wasnât placed in the same house as her mother. That would just be too much for her to handle. Kima was facing ten to fifteen years and that was a reduced sentence because she had âpled guilty and taken full responsibility for the crime.â The judge also acknowledged that Kima had lost her child in jail. He called it a tragic waste of life for selfish reasons. Those words made Kimaâs legs buckle. She had always felt solely responsible for her sonâs death, no matter who had commissioned the beating that killed him.
âKay Kay . . . wâassup?â
Kimaâs thoughts were interrupted when she heard the familiar squeaky voice approaching from her side. She turned and saw her jailhouse friend, Allison. Kima wasnât in the mood for Allisonâs bubbly personality. As she got closer, Allison could tell Kima had been crying.
âWhatâs the matter chica?â Allison asked, sitting down on the end of Kimaâs bed.
Kima tossed the letter in her direction, she didnât really feel like talking, besides the letter would explain it better anyway. Allison picked it up and looked at Kima strangely.
âJust read it,â Kima said in an almost inaudible whisper. Allison read the letter at a feverish pace, her head moving side to side as she scanned the loose leaf. Allisonâs eyes turned dark and her face hardened as she read each line.
âThat puta ! Fucking maric ó n !â Allison spat in her Puerto Rican dialect. âYou know what? When I get the fuck out of here, Iâm going to see his ass,â Allison threatened.
Kima had forgotten that Allison only had another two weeks on Rikerâs. The thought of Allison leaving her made Kima feel even worse.
âIâm never gonna forget about you Kay Kay so donât be sad. Look, whatever you want me to do for you when I get back in the world you know I got you,â Allison said, rubbing Kimaâs
Twelve Steps Toward Political Revelation