Doing Time


Tags: Tear Jerker, .

Desc: : A man does time and what happens happens when he is up for parole. No sex in this story but I believe a good read.

I want to thank LadyCibelle and Techsan for making my story a better read.

We all hear talk about life changing experiences. I have one I would like to tell you about. It happened somewhere around twenty-seven years ago. I was freshly out of college and on my way to be a successful accountant. I was in the top five percent of my class. I easily found employment in the local finance office. I figured I needed some experience before going on my own.

That's where I met my girlfriend Christine. Of course everyone called her Chrissy. She just graduated from high school and was working at the local K-Mart till the fall when she was going to go to nursing school. She was a sweet young thing and was definitely easy on the eyes. I was twenty-four and she was nineteen.

I had gotten my own little apartment and, when Chrissy and I started dating, we would go there to make love. God, she was wonderful, so soft and warm. We had been dating about three months when she told me she had missed her period. The following month she took a home pregnancy test and it showed positive. She was pregnant.

She told her parents and they hit the roof. I told them and Chrissy that we would get married right away. I think it eased their hatred of me a little. My parents weren't the happiest either.

They liked Chrissy well enough but as my dad would say, "You put the cart before the horse, Son." He wasn't happy about that part.

Chris told her parents that she was still going to go to nursing school but that she was going to wait till after she had the baby. We had it all worked out. Her mom said she would watch the baby during the day while Chrissy went to school. I, of course, would be the bread winner.

Chrissy decided to work until she was close to her delivery. She figured we could use the additional money and besides, she didn't have anything to do. She was about four months along when her store was having a Christmas party. I really didn't want to go but she insisted on it.

She was hardly showing and most people didn't even notice she was pregnant except for the people she told. Different guys wanted to dance with her and it was pissing me off a little. There were a few stockroom guys there about my age. Whenever they saw me they kind of smirked. At one point during the party I didn't see Chrissy when I came out of the restroom. One of her girlfriends told me they saw her go out on the patio.

I went out to find her and she was talking with these three jerks and one of them had his hand rubbing her belly and I saw his hand go lower.

"What the fuck's going on?" I said rather loudly.

"Nothing, Joey," replied Chrissy. "John wanted to feel if the baby was kicking."

Then, smart ass John repeated the statement to mock me. "Yeah, Joey, I wanted to feel the baby kick," he smirked.

I wanted to hit him but there was three of them and one of me. I wasn't really a fighter and knew the odds weren't on my side.

"Chrissy, go get your coat and purse and let's go home. I'll meet you in the car," I said.

Chrissy went inside to get her coat. She knew I was mad and wasn't going to argue with me. Meanwhile these three idiots baited me. I've always hated guys like this. Bullies as long as they weren't alone.

"Yeah," said John. "You go wait in the car till Chris comes out," he said sarcastically, his two buddies laughing with him.

As I sat in the car, probably thirty feet from these jerks, I could see them point at me and laugh. I was getting angrier by the minute. If there was only one of them I would take my chances. I watched as John lit another cigarette and his two buddies went back inside. I reached under my front seat and grabbed my tire iron. I always kept it under the drivers seat, just in case I ever needed a weapon to protect myself. I had learned that from my dad.

I was tired of waiting for Chrissy and got out of my car and headed toward the patio to get her. I took the tire iron with me; that was my fatal mistake. When I got to the porch John called me a big wuss and started laughing at me. I had had enough and before he could react I took the tire iron and hit him across the temple. Down he went. I was in a rage and must have hit him a good six times.

I heard screams and I was knocked to the ground and beat up. I woke up in the hospital with a policeman in my room. He told me I was under arrest for the murder of John Phillips. He read me my rights and the doctor gave me some pain killers that put me out.

I was released from the hospital two days later. I was taken to jail to await trial. I didn't have enough money to post bail and didn't own anything but my car and it was financed. My parents came to the jail to see me and told me that Chrissy's parents wouldn't let Chrissy near me. I did get a public defender who took my case. He told me I ought to plead guilty to manslaughter and would get twenty-five years and possible get out in twenty years; otherwise I could get life or even the death penalty.

I accepted the plea bargain for the twenty-five years. The lawyer told me that I intentionally went back to the building with the tire iron. If that wasn't enough, I hit John over and over again, so I couldn't use self defense as a factor. In fact John's two friends had to pull me away from John and had to beat me up because I wouldn't stop.

I knew that last part wasn't true. They broke my arm and kicked me in the ribs because of what I did to John. Chrissy's statement helped the prosecution saying that John was just feeling for the kicking of the baby. There really wasn't anything else she could say. She was just stating a fact. I had no witnesses on my side. I was a cooked goose. I saw Chrissy at my arraignment. She was with her parents. After my plea I could see Chrissy crying as I was led out to prison.

Prison and I didn't get along. As one of the prisoners said, "Here comes some new meat," meaning me.

I don't want to dwell too deeply on prison life but for the first six months I was sodomized quite often. I never went willingly but I couldn't fight off three prisoners at once. I was placed in the hospital three times for the beating I received.

I never squealed on my assailants. In prison I would be killed for that. I needed to belong to a group, prisoners who hung together and protected one another. I was scared; now I understood why so many prisoners took their own lives. I honestly couldn't picture myself in this situation for twenty years or more.

One day I was sitting in the yard and overheard three convicts talking. The one guy, the leader of the group, they called Mr. Big. He was some big Mafia guy who was in for murder also. He had plenty of ties to the outside. His life in prison was almost one of luxury compared to most of us.

I overheard him talking about all the money he was paying in taxes even though he was in prison. He couldn't understand it. The more he talked, the more I listened to the conversation. He was being taken to the cleaners if he was right in his statements.

He looked over at me. "What the fuck are you doing listening in on our conversation? You just might find yourself dead," he yelled at me.

"Mr. Big, before I was locked up, I was an accountant and I do believe that by what I accidently overheard, you are being scammed. Whoever is doing your taxes is skimming off the top." God, I was scared. This man could snap his fingers and I'd be dead.

"Get your fucking ass over here and tell me what you think. It might save your fucking life."

I went over and sat on the lower planks. I explained to him what I thought might be happening with the little information I overheard. I had to let him know that I would have to see the actual papers to know for sure. I was just going on the theory on what I overheard.

Two days later Mr. Big and one of his buddies were at my jail cell. They told my roomie to get lost. He sat down a stack of papers and told me to look through them. I was scared shitless. This wasn't a game; it was my life at stake. I went through page by page and listed inconsistencies. For the next hour no one said a word. I just looked at one page after another, writing down all the discrepancies I could find.

Finally Mr. Big spoke. "So, am I being cheated?"

"Well, Sir, here is what I found so far." I showed him thousands of dollars that were misappropriated. "There could be more but I would need more time," I explained.

He told his friend, "Snake, you stay here and keep an eye on my papers. I'll be back in a couple of hours."

Snake just sat back as I went page by page trying to find errors; he never said a word. It was over three hours later before I was finished going through them all. Mr. Big returned and I wrote down and explained all the differences for him. He gave me an odd look and he and Snake left my cell. If my calculations were correct he had lost tens of thousands of dollars this past year alone.

I wasn't bothered by anyone for the next four days. Out of the blue Mr. Big and Snake were at my cell. I have to say I was very scared.

Mr. Big spoke first. "We're changing your name from New Meat to Tax Man. I hired a new accounting firm and they said your suspicions were correct. For that I owe you. Would you like to work in the library?"

I was surprised. The library was one of the best jobs a con could have in this prison. The worst was in the laundry room where I worked now. It's the place where I usually got molested. To get out of the laundry room would almost be a Godsend.

"Yes, Mr. Big, I'd love to work in the library," I replied.

"I'll see what I can do but you will have to pay your dues," he said.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand," I replied.

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Story tagged with:
Tear Jerker /