~ THE AMERICAN ARACHNID ~
By Chris Deraleau
Section 2
As one could imagine, heavy was my mind in those final days in trumbull correctional before my release.. i would stand in the shower under warm water, allowing pain and worry to wash away after a long day. even release had been stressful in the past. always remember, with what i was to deal with after release, allows them to let me out... but never in. they keep me alive just enough to make sure they can re-arrest me for any technical violation. 'ill get to that part shortly' "5 more minutes in the shower Deraleau, i gotta lock you up its almost 9:30 count.. plus, my Knicks are hitting dice tonight! i cant miss this shit! lets go brother... " Officer Soto was always respectful to me, he was one of our regulars in my dorm, 14-east. he's an honest officer, he really is. he's a good man, but won't be taken advantage of. good hearted man. "yessir, drying off now" id jog down the stairs, get hot water for coffee, then bid him a good evening. after closing my cell door, my world would slow down and speed up. Soto would walk by my door at 9:30 pm count, hit it with his key, and wave, "latuh Deraleau, see ya tomorrow. " he'd say with his new york accent. i could hear his keys jangle slowly with each step, down the range out of earshot, signaling the final nail in that days coffin. you know that sound. that ol' brass clatter... that distinct sound. i could even tell you who was working, just by the way the cadence of the keys rattled. i knew the sound of the officers walks. in parking lots while sitting in vehicles, or inside of grocery stores once i was released, folks would go into their pockets or purses to retrieve items for checkouts or to unlock their vehicles.. i'd hear their keys. . id look instantly. id see some of the people meet my stare, and the looks id get were bizarre. theres nothing i could say. with embarassment in my eyes like a dog, id look away... but there is nowhere to look when the pain of your past is eating you from within. everything you see, is a scene in your own personal nightmare. how do you explain that to folks? . you never forget that sound... im not smiling as i write this, in case you were wondering.... they dont know what thats like.. but they spit you out like everything is ok.... i assure you everything is not ok... The lights outside my cell door would shut off then darkness.... if youve been where ive been. everyone at night, my cell became a world of my own. id put red shades over my lamp, to make the room glow like a dream state instead of the hard cold light of a cell. lighting always did alot for me. there, i could go into a place of creative process. a safe place i could let my mind breath. i you have a mind like i do, the stressors of hearing the ignorant static around you all day takes a toll now and then, you just have to drown it out. sometimes, its like i wasnt there, i was somewhere else a million miles away.. i didnt belong... its exactly how i felt as a child in a home full of meth and abuse. physical fights and quarrels between a father who had a terrible anger problem, and a mother lost in a fog of drugs.