Just when I thought that my entire world had crashed and burned around me when I lost Darius, that same year things got even worse for me.

Six months after Darius’ death, Gerri was diagnosed with full-blown AIDS.  She didn’t fight it and her health quickly started to deteriorate.  She just continued to lose herself in drugs. 

She died less than two months later from a heroin overdose. 

I was twenty years old and on my own for the first time in my entire life, so I went back to the only lifestyle I knew, which was drug dealing and prostitution. 

     Less than two weeks after my mother’s death, I was arrested for prostitution and possession of an illegal substance with intent to sell.  I was tried and convicted, then sentenced to five years in prison.

 During my stint in the cage, I really got to know things about myself that I didn’t even know.

For example, I didn’t quite know what I was fully capable of, until one day when I was working in the kitchen doing dishes.  For the most part, I had been trying to keep my head down and my nose clean.  I’d been there for about five months, give or take a few days, and during that time, I had been able to avoid trouble.

But on that day, when I was working in the kitchen, trouble found me.

Some woman who was much bigger and probably much stronger than me, had decided that she wanted me to be her bitch.

When I refused, she attacked me, throwing me up against the wall so hard that I nearly blacked out.  My head was split open and I could barely see straight.

That’s when the adrenaline kicked in. 

I reached into the dishpan I’d been using and pulled out a knife.  Then, I got up and said to her, “Is that all you got, Bitch?  It’s gonna take a lot more than that to take me down!”

She laughed.  “Oh, little girl think she tough, huh?”  She shook her head, still laughing.  “Well, I guess I’ma have to teach you a lesson on how things work in here.”