Based on a true story

“How can I speak if I cant breathe officer!” I said, while his hand griped tight around my neck like vice grips or a pipe wrench. He had pulled up out front of the corner store with his partner with him and hopped out of the police car on me. He told me I fit the description of a drug dealer. I said to him, “Mr officer I am only 13 years old, what does a drug dealer look like? everybody wears a white T-shirt and jeans.” The officer replies back by saying in anger. “Shut up and put your hands up on your head and stop resisting before I shoot your black ass” I was scared and nervous, my heart beating like a mid 1990 tale beating from an angry dad who’s only time he was there was when it was time for harsh discipline. The officer said to his partner,”This little nigger is hiding something, his heart is beating like a piston in a hemi engine” I didn’t want to say anything back knowing I didn’t do anything wrong an all I wanted to do was go home an enjoy my fifty cent fruit juice and my twenty five cent bag of chips. My juice was in shards broken on the ground from the over aggressive officer smacking my drink to the ground.

I knew if I would have said something back to him the officer and his partner would have beating on me again or tasered me in a torture style like a p.o.w in a concentration camp. I heard the officer say again,”I know hes hiding something, hes gotten a nice amount of money on him, this little nigger is dealing or maybe he robbed someone for it.”NONSENSE!!! But I didn’t even reply again. See because I watched my two little brothers the other night for my mother who I love unconditionally while she went out that evening and she paid me for it generously an I’ve already been saving other money to. However me and my brothers stayed up watching cartoons. I was there favorite brother and still is till this day. The police man and his partner didn’t care none though. They already had there minds made up that day. The officers wanted to harass the first black male they see young or older. I know it might sound crazy but you would feel the same way if you were in my size 12 shoes. Basically you would have probably had the same assumption at that time. Why me? I snapped back to reality when I heard the sounds of more police cars for little old me.

Doors slamming, walkie talkies beeping, the smell of cheap cologne and gun oil. His enforcive voice telling me to stop fucking moving while his partner quarantines my pockets and my every crevice on my body for suspected drugs. My pants now down to my ankles while the officers have me fully exposed to the public in front of elderly women walking past. The elderly ladies walk past saying,”leave that poor boy alone he’s a good child” one of the officers replied by yelling,”keep fucking walking or you two can join him!” There were also two little girls across the street jumping rope looking over at me in a perplexing way. Everyone in the neighborhood desensitized to this because this isn’t new to them or my old community. This stuff happens everyday to us AND JUST US! See there ain’t no justice for us, just dust, grave yards, cuffs, prison cells, hypertension and a keen sense of an early death intuition.

By the way the officers didn’t find anything they were looking for except me. I don’t even think they even know the damage they did to this kid mentally, physically and physiologically. A Damn 13 year old kid someones baby boy, and someones loved one. The officers damaged me for life! I feel like, in Baltimore city… NOT THE COUNTY OR DOWNTOWN WHERE ALL THE TOURIST ATTRACTIONS ARE! Those are the safe zones of my city.Why is it that if your from here, when you leave the city you almost feel like a refugee of your society and the police from my city…. Well 78% of them are the wretched blood thirsty warlords. All I want to know is who gets held accountable for this stuff that goes on everyday an every minute of our lives in this city. Do I make a complaint? Hell no because that only makes things worst for us. Where do I go from here? I feel like no one will ever know what we go through! We just deal with it! All I know is that we are born with a target on our backs, but my hands won’t go up no more. We the people will no longer be your slaves to punish. We will be strong and break away the physical and mental chains that bound us to your simulated new age plantation because I am strong and we are strong. BALTIMORE STRONG!!!


9 thoughts on “FOR THE MASTERS PART 1 (Remastered)

  1. “A Damn 13 year old kid someones baby boy, and someones loved one.” I had to stop and take a deep breath there.. such an emotional heartbreaking piece of writing! These assfaced shit cops shall cry for mercy when karma starts shoving its piece a cake into their racist mouths!

    Liked by 2 people

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