Displacement/Displacement

Although this is not everything I have been working on, this is the portion I read in class. I am sorry for the difficulties with my blog. I think I have them worked out, just a little late possibly, but better late than never. 

My One and Only True Love,

Being taken from the two of you like this is the hardest thing I could ever imagine. I swear to you as I have before, I am innocent, I will do anything and everything to prove my innocence and come home to the two of you; to see our boy grow into a man will keep me strong. I will persevere through this difficult time, I will come home.

When they took me from you, when they tightened the handcuffs and dragged me from the courtroom into the prison van, something inside of me died. It was the darkest moment in my life, the sun beating down on me through the window, blocked by the dark cloud of emotions all around me. I do not know if this is the last window to the outside world I will ever look through, or if it the first look towards the truth within lies.  I believe it was the truth calling, reviving what had died inside of me, preparing me for the difficult road ahead.

Reaching the gates of Attica was daunting; the structure was cold and lifeless, except for the armed guards who opened the gates. They were everywhere, looking, watching, waiting for something, anything to happen where they could exert their power over someone, anyone. That is what I have learned after a few short days anyway. They took me inside and prepared me for my new life. I was stripped and searched. They left not an inch of my body as it arrived; they tried raping me of my dignity and my sanity. But I am strong, I will not let them beat me into submission.  

When they were finished they dressed me, they gave me a number, 970219, they gave me sheets, and a blanket; they gave me my only possessions I am allowed to have and took me to my cell. The walk was one of the longest of my life, inmates chanting, their eyes beating down on me, judging me. The concrete walls were cold and lifeless, yet filled with tortured lives waiting to die. The sound of the creaking iron bars as they opened the gate to my cell sent chills down my spine. It wasn’t until they closed the cell door behind me that I realized this is my new home. The beginning of my quest to prove my innocence starts now.

I met my cell mate, Ryan, that first night, and to my surprise, he seems to be someone I will get along with. He told me about the structure within the prison walls. There are four groups who seem to run the ins and outs of prison life. Each culture sticks together: the African Americans, the Latinos, the Arian Brotherhood, and the other. The other is where both Ryan and I have chosen to offer our loyalties. We are by far the weakest of the four, but that will soon change. I vow to help this group of outcasts while I search for truth and justice. I do not know why I was framed for murder, yet. I will find the answers my lawyer was unable uncover. I will come back to you, or die in the process.

I will write the two of you as often as possible. You are in my heart, my mind and my soul.

Your True Love,

O.

Once upon a time…

A boy awoke to find he no longer slept in the comfort of his own bed. His Superman sheets which shielded the evil spirits in his dreams, no longer covered him. But he was strong. Using both hands, he rubbed the eye-boogers from the corners of his beautiful blue eyes. Taking one hand from his eyes at a time, the boy squinted, making the most peculiar face—not quite a smile, yet not really a frown. It was as if he were a ninety year old man eating a lemon, more wrinkles than face—the boy squinted through his one open eye in an attempt to capture the essence of his surroundings. He thought he smelled it, but it couldn’t be, there was no possible way. Removing his other hand, he opened both eyes, took a deep breath through his nostrils and knew it must be so. Even though he had never seen it or heard of it before, he found himself in a mystical forest of garbage. He was surrounded by the items no one else wanted.

The boy was alone, and although he wasn’t scared, he wanted more than anything in the world to be home. It was right then and there, the boy made an oath to return home. “I...I…I” but for some strange reason, the boy could not remember his name. He sat on a pile of old toasters, silver, red, black, every color imaginable seemed to be there. Each toaster had snakelike cords slithering closer and closer to his feet as he sat, trying to remember his name. He scratched his head once, made the same old man face as before, and somehow he remembered.

 “My name is Yungman!” he shouted at the top of his lungs as he jumped from the pile of toasters just before the cords could slither around his ankles. The boy closed his eyes—once again making the same lemony old man face as before—keeping his eyes closed he could see his mother saying his name.

“Young man, clean your room. There is not an inch of carpet to be found. When you are done, come downstairs and you can have a fresh baked cookie.”

“Yungman, yupp, that’s it!” He said to himself.

The forest of garbage seemed never-ending to Yungman, for he could not see but trash in every direction. On his initial look around, he chose to begin his adventure by hiking to the highest point of garbage he could find. While he walked, his head rapidly swiveled back and forth, seeking treasures found in the trash of others.

“Eureka, look at this,” he said ecstatically to himself as if he were not alone. “This must be a warrior’s sward, and this, this is a warrior’s shield.”

What Yungman actually found was a broken guitar, the neck and body broken in such a way he was able to brandish them as his weapon and his protection. But the power of his imagination combined with the magical essence within the forest of garbage, transformed these tattered items into the very warrior sword and shield he envisioned.

“Heelllooo,” a voice meekly stated in such a way it was not quite a greeting, yet not really a question.

“WHO GOES THERE?” Yungman demanded.

A scrawny boy with broken glasses emerged from a pile of old wrapping paper. The boy was draped in ribbons and bows while the clothes he wore were tattered and torn.

“I’mmm Ryyyaaaan,” he stated hesitantly.

“Hi Ryan, I’m Yungman. Wooow, that’s a cool uniform you are wearing Ryan.”

The ribbons and bows no longer made up his outfit. Ryan’s uniform was that of a general in the military. The bows changed to medals the ribbons formed the stripes on his sleeves and pant legs. Both boys looked at each other, eying up and down from head to toe and back again while they circled around each other, waiting, waiting possibly for answers, possibly for something else to transform. But they kept circling each other until Yungman broke the silence.

“Where are we?”

“We are in the forgotten land of the past,” Ryan said with a new found confidence. A uniform has an uncanny way of turning a boy into a man.

“The forgotten land of the past?” Yungman asked.

“Yes, everything here has been forgotten by someone.”

“What else do you know about this place?” Yungman asked.

“There are four castles at each corner of the forest of garbage in the forgotten land of the past. Each castle detests the other. From what I have heard something big is about to happen. A battle maybe, I don’t know for sure though.”

“What kind of castles?”

“The castle I live in is just around that mound of tossed out wheelchairs,” Ryan stated as he pointed at the pile of over two thousand beat up old wheelchairs. “It’s the bubble gum castle. By far the best one if I do say so myself.”

“Woooow, a bubblegum castle?” Yungman asked as he couldn’t help but start chewing an imaginary piece of watermelon Bubbleyum, his favorite. “What are the other castles made of?”

“Well, there is a pizza box castle. There is a phone book castle.” The phone book castle was made strictly from Washington state phone books, due to the scratch and sniff apples within the front cover. The castle was only one scratch away from smelling fresh. “And the last is the tower of tin cans.”

“Cooool, but nothing beats a bubblegum castle.”

“What are you doing here in the forgotten land of the past Yungman?”

“I don’t know, I have not been forgotten I know that much. Actually I am on my way home. I just have to figure out how to get back.”

“Yea, I, I know, I wasn’t forgotten either. Anyway, we better get to the castle, it will be getting dark soon and you don’t want to be out here in the dark.”

The two boys ventured around the mound of wheelchairs as the sun set. Yungman had an eerie feeling he was being watched, every hair on his little body stood at attention as they made their way to the gates of the castle.

“Thanks for letting me stay here Ryan. But tomorrow, tomorrow I will find my way home."