Sexually Deviant Behavior and Predators - Tapa blanda

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I was born in Vicksburg, Mississippi to Lee and Estella Brooks. My father Lee, was a Vietnam Veteran. The war had taken a heavy toll on him. He drank and gambled excessively, and despite having a number of well-paying jobs, his vices kept us in the ghetto. My sister Barbara Brooks, died tragically at an early age. She was a gifted child; a repeat member of The Honor Society. She was also a victim of gang violence and sexual assault; which ultimately led to her tragic death. The incident tore my family apart. I spent much of my teenage life in prison for robbery. It was my first offense, however it involved white people; Mississippi wasted no time adjudicating me as an adult. I was sent to Parchman, Mississippi’s State Prison. I was sent to Camp 29, the most violent area at the time. I was only 5’3 or 5’4 weighing 110 pounds. Once I arrived at the building, several inmates rushed the hall and told the guards: “Y’all can’t put that little dude in here with us! Y’all wrong man!” Even the guards were reluctant to put me in the dorm. They ran the inmates back into the dorm, and told the inmate clerk to go get Skillet. While we waited for Skillet, they told me that if someone tried to harm me, get a knife and stab them. Then come and get them and say that whoever it was, tried to rape me. I said that I understood. Skillet, was a gang head from up North, that got busted in Mississippi. He exited the dorm with another juvenile, my age and size, following him; Frog. The guards placed me into Skillet’s care. Once in the dorm, Skillet placed me in care of the Muslims, and told me that, among them was the safest place for me. At that time, street organizations weren’t as strong as they are now, and juvenile offenders were a hot commodity in prison. I was blessed to make it out without a scratch, back then, he was in drag: Back then, inmates were allowed paper money, and for the right price, you could buy any item: hair, bras, lipstick (it was Kool-Aid though). I spent the next several years in and out of prison. Throughout my life, I’ve witnessed murder’s, rape’s, and other despicable acts of violence. I’ve also witnessed many depraved acts, like the ones spoken of in this book. My life is a miracle. I am a walking, talking, breathing, miracle. I’ve survived against tremendous odds. As I am writing this manuscript, I am serving time at South Mississippi Correctional Institute, for a parole violation, and am expecting release within this year.