Twisted Lies
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About this ebook
George Anthony Alston
George Anthony Alston is a native of Raleigh, North Carolina. A published poet and fi rst time author, writer of Twisted Lies. George has written a collection of over 1000 poems, loves to do open Mic and Spoken Truth. A fi rst prize winner in a Speak out awards Completion-novice division. My goals are to inspire positive change and spiritual growth. Twisted Lies is the fi rst of other novels to come.
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Twisted Lies - George Anthony Alston
Chapter 1
The Home Coming
I t had been three years, nine months and sixteen days, but today was my day. Finally, I was going home. My life would never be the same. There had been a point in life whereas I thought I knew everything, but after nearly four years of incarceration I realize that I had a lot of learning to do. For the next two and a half years, I would have to answer to someone. I had a thin line to walk and at any given time if I stepped out of line, it would be back to prison for me to do the rest of a fifteen to twenty year sentence.
Before leaving the camp that day, I walked around and shared goodbyes. I walked over to the weight bench and lifted for the last time. As I lay back on the bench, I looked up to the sky. I thought to myself, God has brought me through this and I just want to thank Him. Health was good, my mind was strong. My first poem I ever wrote came to mind.
In My Dark Corner." This poem is what helped to see my way through it all. Some of the guys had requested that I recite a couple of poems before I left. This was one that I did share.
In My Dark Corner
I set in my dark corner
Oh yes the sun do shine
On me and my dark shadow
And a deeply troubled mind.
Thinking back through the years
Remembering the good times, the sadness and tears
Ones who were so close
Ones I really love
They left me here to carry on
They’ve gone to rest above
They tried to lead me the right way
But me, I chose to roam
Now me and my dark shadow
Face my fears alone
I walk over to my window
Looking out at the rain
Looking out through steel bars
And feeling so ashamed
Having Martin Luther’s dream
As flashing light go pass
Of some day going home
And being free at last
I walk back to my corner
Yes me and my dark shadow
Praying to God that someday
Things will be much better
I’ve gotten back to my corner
Leaving the darkness behind
Although I’m physically incarcerated
I’ve learn to free my mind.
George A Alston
The Lost Poet
Around 12:00 noon the guys on camp site were gathering up to go into the mess hall. I did go into the dining room but I wasn’t going there to eat. I got a glass of iced tea and set down and talked with the brothers. I also knew that Mom would be cooking a feast for me on today. I wanted room for everything that she had prepared. About ten minutes had past when my name was called over the intercom. George A., George A. your ride is here, get your shit, you’re all the way out.
I didn’t have anything to get because I had sent it all home on my last visit. Everything else I left with the brothers.
When I reached the office there was this white man waiting for me. He was about 5' 6, 5' 7
and a bit ball on the top, with the look that I knew was to be taken serious. George, he said, my name is Robert F., I’ve been assigned to our case. I’m your parole officer. He pulled some forms from his briefcase explaining each piece of paper as he passed them to me to sign. I’ll tell you everything that you need to know while I drive you home. It was finally happening; I was heading out the door. Guys were yelling out as I left, good luck brother George, stay on the outs.
And the last thing I heard was, don’t look back or you’ll be back.
Getting into the vehicle my parole officer began to spill out his speech. George, I will need for you to call my office once a week. I will set your office visits for once a month. Week days you are to be in by 11:00 p.m., weekends you must be in by 1:00 a.m. You are to seek out and find employment within 30 days of today. Seeing that you already have a job, this does not apply to you. However, if you change jobs during the time you are on parole, you must notify me immediately. If you get picked up or charged with any crime, I mean even a speeding ticket, you are to contact me at once. I don’t have a problem with you having a drink or two, just don’t get into trouble. I might show up at your door anytime, day or night. If you are suppose to be there, then be there. If you are not, your parole will be violated. As you begin to make progress, all of these rules are subject to change in your favor. Do you have any questions?
No sir. Very well then, here you are, home sweet home.
Mr. Robert F. came into the house, introduced himself to my parents. He talked briefly to them, gave me his card, and he was out. Good luck George, you do what I say and you will be just fine. If you don’t, I won’t hesitate to violate you. Good day.
Chapter 2
Family Reunion
N ow let me tell you, I came from a very dysfunctional family. You never know what to expect from day to day. There was only one person in the house that I knew would always have my back. That one person who would always try to make everything right… keeping everyone on point. You’ve got it! That was my mother, love unconditional. Doing the nearly four years I was away, my Mom never missed on visit. Nothing or no one could keep her from coming to see me, even when I requested that she not come. She was an amazing woman.
My parents had moved into a new home while I was away. They moved to a nice area in the state of North Carolina, Raleigh to be exact. When I walked into the house both my parents were there, my three sisters, two nieces and two nephews. The youngest nephew was born while I was away. He was my baby sister’s son. A couple of neighbors came over. One of them being a brother I had grown up with from the old hood living next door back in the day. He was married now and lived across the street with his wife and in-laws.
Lots of love and hugs, but now it was time to go to the table. My mother had always loved to cook big meals and today would be no exception. I came home in mid January, a few days after the New Years 1981. Winter was the time of year when you did not eat light in my house. The spread was laid out, collard greens, ham hawks, baked potatoes, cornbread, barbeque ribs, country ham, fried fish, fried chicken, sweet potato pie, and so much more. Everyone was talking and laughing looking at me strangely. I didn’t know what to make of it.
At once my Mom spoke up, Everyone get to the table and let us bless this day, this food and let us eat.
My Father gave grace which was surprising. I’d never known him to step foot inside a church. The other side of this is growing up, we had to go to church every Sunday. My father was a hard worker, but on Sunday, he would stay at home and cook dinner himself. And believe me he could burn too.
Food platters were being passed around the table, and I let no dish pass me by. This was Mom’s home cooking. Just before I placed my fork into my food one of my sisters said, Hold up, wait a minute… Bro, didn’t you say a few months ago that you changed and became a Muslim? You said you didn’t partake in eating swine… that pig.
My eyes and mouth dropped wide open and everyone burst out laughing. Well I said, That wasn’t the first time that I had made a mistake. By the way, I have been reconfirmed and I’m back on the right track.
Then I took a big bit off of a piece of rib. Again a bust of laughter filled the house.
Recently before my release I had met this young lady through a mutual friend. She visited me a few times and said she’d come by and hang out with me after she got off work. After dinner was over, I called my mom and my dad into the den. I had been on work release for a little while and had saved up a little money. I gave both my parents money. My dad and I then left the house to go to the shopping mall. I got a few gifts for my niece and nephews. I also bought Brenda a gift. Brenda was the young lady that I just made mention of. I wanted to get her something simple, but something nice as well. I kind of knew what our plan would be for the evening. I got her a gold lighter and I had her name engraved on it. My dad and I got back home about an hour and a half later. Brenda’s car was parked in the yard when we arrived.
Well hello mister, she said as I walked inside the house, greeting me with a hug and a kiss. Glad you made it home. How long have you been here, I asked? "Long enough to eat some of your mother’s good cooking. Boy, she can burn! Brenda was a talker and she had high energy. We hung out at the house about fifteen minutes then she and I left.
So what’s up she asked me? First things first, let’s stop by the A.B.C. liquor store. I went inside the store and purchased a fifth of 151 Rum. The next stop, another store, there we got beer, rolling paper and a couple bags of chips. Brenda had already got the weed. We went to her place. It was a nice cozy little pad. Brenda lived alone in a one bedroom apartment. So for a while, we smoked weed, got our drink on and talked. We hadn’t known each other that long. Finally we made it to the bedroom. The lights were dim and soft music sure sounded good to my ears. Then we got down, with the get down. It was my first time having sex in nearly four years. Even to this day, girl I just want to say, thank you. I stayed at Brenda’s house that night. We were up early the next morning, got breakfast, and she dropped me off at my parent’s house. I hung out with Brenda for the next few months. She wanted a serious commitment. Me being fresh out of the joint, couldn’t see myself locked down in that kind of relationship. It didn’t take her long to pick up on that vibe. We soon drifted apart. However, we did remain friends.
Back at home later on in the evening things began to play out the way I remember it being from past years. My dad and my younger sister were having a heated argument. He was telling her she was getting the hell out of his house. And she was yelling back, I’m not going anywhere.
He began throwing her clothes out on the lawn, next came her bed mattress. I just sat there looking dumb founded.
For some reason or the other, I knew the time would come that I would be moving out. My father and I had had a big problem some years back. I was about 16 years old and I really wasn’t doing that well in school. I had begun to drink a little and smoked pot. I