house, and I was at the window watching, but I was unable to talk about what I had
witnessed. I wasn’t old enough to understand what I had witnessed. Or was I?
I have often wondered if something followed me from my dreaded
past. How and why did Shaheed end up in my life? And now my child, just like my cousin, Gina, was to be the child of a psychopath? The similarities were mind boggling. Shaheed was a black-belt. He was a master of his art of
choice. It was no secret that he could kill with his bare hands.
Would he ever do what my cousins’ father did? I instantly felt a
connection with my aunt, and started wonderin g how our lives placed us on similar paths. One thing was for sure. I decided then and there that I would learn from Aunt San’s own experience. I was going to get the hell away while I still had a chance.
During the next forty-five days while waiting for my inevitable
transfer to Clayton County Jail in Georgia, the last free moments of my life would constantly rewind in my mind. It left me thinking about what I could have done differently. I began wondering if Sheree told me everything she knew. Did she set me up? What was E thinking? Did he believe I set him up when he was told to return to the hospital? Who was giving these agents all the information? Why was I being questioned in Tennessee about Shaheed, when we both resided in Georgia? How did they know about my involvement with Shaheed? Was Phaedra going to stick to her word about representing
me? Was I going to be out before my baby was born?
The bevy of questions was rampant. There were just so many
possibilities rapidly running through my mind at one time. So many questions left unanswered, not even I could provide an answer. I couldn’t find peace
anywhere. The desperation of my situation constantly haunted me.
I was an emotional wreck by the time the date of my transfer had
rolled around. The ride from Tennessee back to Georgia was long overdue. Even though I was still incarcerated, at least I was closer to my family. I was also getting closer and closer to my due date. Being transferred to Clayton County came with some rewards. If I did have the baby while I was incarcerated then my mother could come right to the hospital, and pick her up. The jail was only fifteen minutes away from my mother’s home so I would have visitation every week. Yes, I will say that I thought I had the whole thing figured out.
It happened like clockwork. Every week, my mother came to visit
me. Just like any good mother, she was at all my court appearances supporting me one hundred percent. I had been in Clayton County Jail for nearly two weeks now, and it seemed like no one could get in touch with Phaedra. She was avoiding every person that tried to contact her on my behalf. All the calls to her personal cellphone and home number went unanswered and were never returned. So I had my cousin, Scott, call attorney, Ronald Freeman’s office
on a three-way phone call from jail. I spoke directly to Ronald myself.
“Ron, what’s up with Phaedra? I mean she is avoiding all my calls
when she knows what’s going on with me. I don’t know what is about to happen, but I know she promised to represent me. Now, she doesn’t want to
answer the phone,” I said.
Ronald Freeman was well aware of the criminal activity that existed
between Phaedra and me. Phaedra Parks shared an office with him on Spring Street. I knew for a fact that he de finitely did not want to be implicated in any kind of way. Ronald briefly placed me on hold. Moments later, Phaedra was
speaking with me on the phone.
“Phaedra what’s up?” I yelled arrogantly.
She promised to visit the next morning. I hung up then waited. The next morning when she arrived for the visit, Phaedra went on and on about how we needed to let the air cool down. She told me that she had not forgotten about me, and promised that I would get out of this situation. I was facing four felony counts of forgery in
witnessed. I wasn’t old enough to understand what I had witnessed. Or was I?
I have often wondered if something followed me from my dreaded
past. How and why did Shaheed end up in my life? And now my child, just like my cousin, Gina, was to be the child of a psychopath? The similarities were mind boggling. Shaheed was a black-belt. He was a master of his art of
choice. It was no secret that he could kill with his bare hands.
Would he ever do what my cousins’ father did? I instantly felt a
connection with my aunt, and started wonderin g how our lives placed us on similar paths. One thing was for sure. I decided then and there that I would learn from Aunt San’s own experience. I was going to get the hell away while I still had a chance.
During the next forty-five days while waiting for my inevitable
transfer to Clayton County Jail in Georgia, the last free moments of my life would constantly rewind in my mind. It left me thinking about what I could have done differently. I began wondering if Sheree told me everything she knew. Did she set me up? What was E thinking? Did he believe I set him up when he was told to return to the hospital? Who was giving these agents all the information? Why was I being questioned in Tennessee about Shaheed, when we both resided in Georgia? How did they know about my involvement with Shaheed? Was Phaedra going to stick to her word about representing
me? Was I going to be out before my baby was born?
The bevy of questions was rampant. There were just so many
possibilities rapidly running through my mind at one time. So many questions left unanswered, not even I could provide an answer. I couldn’t find peace
anywhere. The desperation of my situation constantly haunted me.
I was an emotional wreck by the time the date of my transfer had
rolled around. The ride from Tennessee back to Georgia was long overdue. Even though I was still incarcerated, at least I was closer to my family. I was also getting closer and closer to my due date. Being transferred to Clayton County came with some rewards. If I did have the baby while I was incarcerated then my mother could come right to the hospital, and pick her up. The jail was only fifteen minutes away from my mother’s home so I would have visitation every week. Yes, I will say that I thought I had the whole thing figured out.
It happened like clockwork. Every week, my mother came to visit
me. Just like any good mother, she was at all my court appearances supporting me one hundred percent. I had been in Clayton County Jail for nearly two weeks now, and it seemed like no one could get in touch with Phaedra. She was avoiding every person that tried to contact her on my behalf. All the calls to her personal cellphone and home number went unanswered and were never returned. So I had my cousin, Scott, call attorney, Ronald Freeman’s office
on a three-way phone call from jail. I spoke directly to Ronald myself.
“Ron, what’s up with Phaedra? I mean she is avoiding all my calls
when she knows what’s going on with me. I don’t know what is about to happen, but I know she promised to represent me. Now, she doesn’t want to
answer the phone,” I said.
Ronald Freeman was well aware of the criminal activity that existed
between Phaedra and me. Phaedra Parks shared an office with him on Spring Street. I knew for a fact that he de finitely did not want to be implicated in any kind of way. Ronald briefly placed me on hold. Moments later, Phaedra was
speaking with me on the phone.
“Phaedra what’s up?” I yelled arrogantly.
She promised to visit the next morning. I hung up then waited. The next morning when she arrived for the visit, Phaedra went on and on about how we needed to let the air cool down. She told me that she had not forgotten about me, and promised that I would get out of this situation. I was facing four felony counts of forgery in
Similar Books
