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  I had been dreading going to court and testifying against Lazarus. I knew that I would forever be labeled a snitch, and if he didn’t want to kill me before, he certainly would now.

  “I…I can’t tell you.”

  Her face twisted into an expression of confusion and annoyance. “The fuck you mean you can’t tell me?”

  “My lawyer said I can’t talk to anyone about the details of the trial, because it’s ongoing, I guess.”

  “Hell no, first of all, I don’t count as ‘anyone’ and second of all, I’ve been waiting all day to hear the details and you’re telling me I can’t? I literally feel like I’m gonna cry. Come on. There’s zero excitement in here, give me something.”

  I remained silent for a moment, contemplating whether it truthfully mattered if I told her. According to my attorney, I could be prosecuted for divulging confidential information regarding an ongoing trial, but I highly doubted Sarah would run and tell anyone.

  Besides, I needed to vent.

  “Okay, I’m not going to tell you details of the case specifically, but I will tell you that the defense attorney is a fucking asshole and made me look like an idiot,” I said, crossing my legs and getting comfortable. I could tell she was excited by the gossip, because her eyes grew wide and she inched her chair closer.

  “The guy basically said that I was a piece-of-shit felon, and no one could take me seriously because I’m a known liar and thief.”

  “What?! No, he didn’t!”

  “Swear. And then, this asshole has the audacity to turn to the sheriffs in the courtroom asking if they could believe a word I said, given the fact that I stole from one of their ‘brothers in blue’ and lied to the entire sheriff’s department for three years straight.”

  “Nooooo.”

  “Yes, and then—”

  “Tiff, it’s for you!” someone yelled from the dayroom, interrupting my story right before the good part. I leaned back on my bed and looked through the space between the bars of my cell to see who was calling out to me.

  Shelly was standing at the public defender phone clutching the receiver to her chest as another anxious inmate tried to grab for it. “Stop, ho!” Shelly yelled. “He ain’t call for you.”

  I was already running to the phone, anxious to see what my public defender wanted.

  “Hello?!” I breathed heavily into the mouthpiece.

  “Yeah, hey, listen. I wanted to let you know I just got an email from Bridges in St. Pete. They accepted your application and are going to be here to pick you up on your release date next week.”

  I had filled out the application for Bridges rehab when I first arrived in jail. I was desperate to attend a rehab rather than go away to prison, so I filled out a bunch and mailed them out to different places.

  This was before I knew my father had cancer. I would be so far away from him. This was before I met Stephanie from Horizons rehab. This was before everything. I didn’t want to go.

  “Oh…okay, um, I was kind of hoping to go to Horizons. It’s much closer to my dad and—”

  “No.”

  “Oh. Wait, what?” I asked, taken aback.

  “No. Absolutely not.”

  “Absolutely not, what?”

  “Let me get this straight, you don’t want to go to Bridges, a structured, reputable rehabilitation center. You want to go to Horizons, where girls can come and go as they please, meet up with their dealer in the parking lot, and get high right in the facility?”

  “I…um…I don’t even know what you’re t—”

  “Let me ask you, why would you want to go there?”

  “Well, because I would like to work on building a relationship with God and—”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Uh, excuse me?!”

  “You want to get high, and you heard that you can do it there. I wasn’t born yesterday. I’ve met tons of girls like you who want to take the easy way out at Horizons and I’m sick of it. The place is a joke. You are going to Bridges and they will be there next week to get you. Goodbye.” Click.

  I slowly hung up the receiver, baffled by what had just occurred.

  He spoke so fast, so matter-of-factly. I had to sit down for a moment and process it. Why did he say I wanted to get high? Was there something he knew about the rehab that I didn’t?

  I guess it doesn’t matter now. I’m going to Bridges, and there’s evidently nothing I can do about it.

  It was toiletry day and everyone had lined up for their items by the time I’d gotten off the phone. I headed to the end of the line and my friend Charlotte was standing in front of me.

  “Do you know anything about Bridges?” I asked her. She turned around to answer but before she could, the girl in front of her whipped her head around to face me.

  “You said Bridges?” she asked.

  “Yeah, my public defender said that’s where I’m going when I get released.”

  Her eyebrows arched and she turned back to face the front of the line without saying a word.

  “Have you heard of it?” I asked, stepping up as the line slowly moved forward.

  “Girl, I been there. You might as well stay here. It’s run by the Department of Corrections. It’s basically jail.”

  My heart dropped. I had been so happy that my release date was approaching, and this girl said that basically I had another six months of this shit. I wanted to cry.

  “What do you mean it’s like jail?” I asked, feeling more and more panicked.

  “Um, let’s see. You can only bring six personal items with you, you wear a uniform, you are told when to eat, sleep, and shit, and you are bunked up with five other girls. The rules are the same there as they are here. The only difference is you go to stupid-ass NA and AA classes,” she said, crossing her arms. “I couldn’t take it. I ran. That’s why I’m here.”

  I was lost in thought when the corrections officer screamed at me. “I said, What. Do. You. Need.” I snapped back into reality and was met with a pair of glaring eyes.

  “Oh, sorry. Um, toothpaste, and toilet paper. Please,” I said quickly.

  “No razor?”

  “No thank you, not tonight.”

  “Nasty ass,” the deputy said under her breath, thrusting a roll of toilet paper into my outstretched hands.

  I rolled my eyes and headed to the cell. They gave us one hour with the razors, and in that hour, all the women clamored to get into a shower stall and speed-shave before the razors had to be returned. I wasn’t in the mood.

  Besides, if I got my hands on a razor, I’d probably cut my fucking wrists right now.

  * * *

  —

  The following week was a haze. I spent most of the time sleeping because of my seizure medication, and when I was awake, I was crying and dreading my release. I didn’t want to go to Bridges. I wanted to be close to my family. I wanted to learn about God and I wanted to wear regular clothes and hear music.

  I had felt such a connection to Stephanie the day she came in, and I was heartbroken at the prospect of being shipped to another city when I thought for sure God had a plan, and had sent her to bring me to a place where I belonged.

  “Two more days, ya lucky bitch. You excited?” my bunkie Candice asked while munching on a Chick-O-Stick.

  “Not really. You know what’s funny?” I began. “The whole time I’ve been here, every single time the voice came over the loudspeaker and told someone to roll it up to go home, I’ve been insanely jealous. I have longed to hear the words Roll it up since I’ve been here, and now I’m dreading it.”

  I stared out the window of my cell. The sky was dark gray, and beads of rain began peppering the window. I missed the rain. The way it pelted my skin as I ran to seek shelter from it. I would lie flat on the grass and let it drench me if I had the chance. Grass, I missed grass. />
  “Are you Tiffany?” a voice said from behind me. I spun around and saw a blond woman in high heels and a bright pink shirt, smiling at me from the entrance of my cell.

  “Um, I am. Who are you?” I asked, looking her up and down.

  “My name is Felicity, and I’m the owner of Horizons. I heard you spoke with my daughter, Stephanie.”

  Holy shit. You’re a day late and a dollar short, lady, I thought.

  “Yeah, I did. I really wanted to come to your program, but apparently that’s not going to happen,” I said, feeling defeated.

  I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of sick joke God was playing on me. Two days before my release this lady shows up, now that it’s too late.

  “Well,” she said, smiling. “I wouldn’t be too sure if I were you.”

  “What?”

  “Let’s just say I have a way of getting what I want. Stephanie spoke very highly of you, so I did some research. There’s a loophole in your sentencing guidelines. I may be able to work something out. Would you be interested?” She seemed so confident in herself.

  “Um, I mean my attorney said it wasn’t going to happen, but of course I’d rather go with you than to Bridges.”

  “That’s all I needed to know,” she said as she gave me a wink. She turned around and walked away, her heels clicking loudly throughout the dayroom until she disappeared out the door.

  What the hell was this lady planning? And how was she planning on doing it in one day?

  I slowly raised my head to the sky and smiled. “Okay, God, let’s see what you got.”

  24

  Yesterday was my release date. Yet here I was, lying beneath the scratchy wool of my blanket in my cell. It had been pouring rain all day yesterday; I’d hoped maybe that was the reason Bridges didn’t send a bus to get me. They didn’t want to drive that far in a thunderstorm, and I understood.

  I mean, a call would have been nice, but I wasn’t exactly in a position to demand that sort of courtesy.

  “What the hell, man. My bin has been packed up since the day before yesterday, I already gave my shampoo and conditioner away, and I traded the last of my friggin’ snacks to Shelly for a phone call. Where the fuck are these people to pick me up?” I said as I pulled my uniform top off.

  “Maybe they forgot about you,” Sarah said, smirking.

  “Helpful, Sarah, really.” I rolled my eyes.

  “No, dude, Bridges is notorious for not picking girls up on time,” Charlotte said as she flopped down off the top bunk. “They never come when they say they will, and the worst part is, every minute you sit here past your release date doesn’t count for shit. You are basically stuck doing more time than the judge ordered for nothing.”

  “Awesome, thank you guys so much for the reassurance. I feel a million times better.”

  We grabbed our dirty uniforms and headed toward the laundry line. We got new uniforms three times per week, and I thought for sure this was the last polyester piece of shit I’d ever have to wear. But nope, I’m about to get a new jumpsuit, and who the fuck knows how many more I’ll have to wear after that.

  “God, there is seriously nothing more frustrating than not knowing. Like, I feel like the past four months have been nothing but waiting and wondering, and having no say over what the hell happens,” I said, inching forward in the line.

  “Welcome to jail,” Charlotte said as she grabbed a jumpsuit from the deputy and headed to the cell.

  Before changing into the new uniform, I decided to take a shower. I didn’t want to put a new uniform onto my dirty body, so I borrowed some shampoo from Sarah and headed to wait in line.

  I glanced nervously at the clock as each girl went in to take a shower. Six stalls for hundreds of women meant a lot of sitting around with soap in hand, waiting for one to open up. Finally, with ten minutes and no hot water left, it was my turn. I shut the door to the shower and glanced around the small area.

  Pubic hairs and lint had collected at the drain, and the walls were covered in soap scum and hair. Jesus, I couldn’t wait to shower in a clean bathroom. Thank God for shower shoes; Lord knows how many diseases my feet would have collected by now otherwise.

  I twisted the faucet and was hit with a stream of freezing-cold water. It warmed up immediately but never reached a temperature above lukewarm. I was shaking as I hurriedly squirted the shampoo into my hair and began rubbing it into a lather.

  As I leaned my head back into the water to rinse the soap from my hair, suddenly someone was banging on the shower door. I fumbled for my glasses and shut the water off to see what the fuss was all about.

  “What the hell?” I asked, wiping condensation from the lens, trying to see who was interrupting my long-awaited shower.

  I wrapped my towel around my body and cracked open the door to peer out. As soon as the room came into focus I noticed that everyone, literally everyone…was staring at me.

  “One, two, three! Johnson! ROLL IT UP!”

  Goosebumps covered every inch of my body as I realized what had just happened. Everyone began clapping and cheering as my jaw hung to the floor.

  25

  “Are you serious?” I asked, afraid to get my hopes up.

  “Yes, bitch! They just called your name in your cell! Now hurry the hell up before they change their minds,” Tanya said, laughing.

  I didn’t even rinse the rest of the shampoo out of my hair. I sprinted across the dayroom in a towel, which was super illegal, but what were they gonna do? Arrest me?

  As I started throwing my new uniform on, tears of gratitude began filling my eyes. I excitedly looked over at Sarah and realized her hand was covering her mouth and she was quietly sobbing.

  “Oh my God, Sarah,” I said, walking toward her with my arms outstretched.

  She wrapped her arms tightly around my waist and cried into my chest. “How the hell am I supposed to make it in here without you? You are the realest friend I’ve ever had.” She sniffled.

  “Aw, babes. You are gonna be just fine! And I’ll be done with Bridges in six months and we can hang out. Maybe get dinner or go to the beach.”

  “Johnson,” a voice interrupted over the intercom. “You got two minutes or the bus is leaving.”

  “Go, go. I’m sorry. I am so happy for you, Tiff, and so proud. You are going to do amazing, I just know it.”

  “Thank you, Sarah, and thank you for showing me what a true friend is supposed to be.”

  Despite how grateful I was to be getting out, I suddenly found myself quite heartbroken about having to leave.

  This had been my home for a long time, and I’d spent twenty-four hours a day with the people in it. It felt like summer camp had come to an end, and it was time to say goodbye to all the wonderful friends I’d made.

  Girls began flooding my cell. Some to see if I had any leftover commissary, but most to say goodbye and wish me luck.

  I gave a few quick hugs and excitedly pushed my way past them with my mattress and belongings in hand. As I headed toward the main door, I heard some of the girls begin singing and before I knew it, everyone joined in. “Nah nah nah nah, nah nah nah nah, hey hey hey, goooooodbye.” I choked back the tears and exited the doors of Female Pod West accompanied by my own soundtrack, for the very last time.

  I was brought down to the lobby, where a deputy asked me to turn around. I will never forget the click as the handcuffs I’d been wearing sprang free. That was it. I was in a room full of deputies and not wearing handcuffs. I was no longer an inmate.

  “Here,” a big male deputy said as he thrust a paper bag into my stomach. “You can change in there,” he said, pointing to a holding cell.

  I shut the door behind me and ripped open the bag. The scent of my old perfume filled the room and nostalgia washed over me. It had been so long since I’d smelled anything other than mold, shit, and gri
ts.

  I pulled the clothes out of the bag and up to my face and took in a deep breath. My eyes closed as memories of my old life came rushing into my mind, playing like a silent movie. For a brief moment, I was home.

  A knock at the door pulled me back to reality. “You okay in there? You got people waiting on you.”

  “I’m coming!” I yelled as I yanked my prison clothes off for the last time and dressed in the clothes I was arrested in. I smiled at the sight of my flip-flops. I had never been so grateful to slide my feet into them. No more shower shoes for this bitch! I’m outta here.

  “Where should I put these?” I asked, holding out my crumpled uniform. “In there,” the guard said, pointing to an empty room nearby. When I returned to where he was standing, I glanced around, unsure of what to do next.

  “Here ya go,” he said, handing me a sheet of paper. “I’ll walk you out.”

  Out. He would walk me out. Out of this jail. I couldn’t believe I was out.

  He pointed to a closed door and told me they were waiting for me in there. I headed toward the door and when I pulled it open, my eyes grew wide and my jaw hit the floor.

  “Let’s get the hell out of here,” Stephanie said with a big smile, holding the door open.

  “Wha…wait. What? What are you doing here? I thought Bridges was coming?” A combination of confusion and worry danced around in my mind. I was thrilled to see her but felt like this was wrong.

  “It’s fine, everything is fine. Felicity found a loophole in your sentencing. It said, ‘She is to be released to a six-month residential treatment program’—it doesn’t specify which one. So basically, it’s whoever gets here first and—surprise!” she said, throwing her arms into the air. “Now let’s go, Raquel is waiting in the car.”

  A smile crossed my face so wide that my cheeks burned.

  And I ran. I ran past Stephanie, ran through the hallway, and pushed the exit doors open so hard they slammed against the wall. The chilly air and sunshine hit my face all at once and I dropped to my knees. I felt the grass on my skin as the breeze blew through my hair.