Complacency (Work in Progress) by Shy Ward (best reads .TXT) 📕

in on him if she had at least been a bug-a-boo and attempted to contact him, at least then he really would have validation of the reason he felt he left. Now, he wasn’t sure. He wondered what she was up to. Not even knowing the real reason for it, he began to feel jealous and a little desperate to find out if she had moved on with her life. Test

 

The beds were hard, floors cold, food awful, space non-existent. To top it off, Eric was afraid to go to sleep. They were on full lock down after a deal gone bad on the tier earlier. Just to the right of him, another man had is face beaten in by a locked placed in a sock and used as a weapon. They just simply call that contraption a lock-in-a-sock. Eric hadn’t even seen the man coming. Blood splattered all over, it was all over his shirt, face and hair from sitting to close to the target. He had been cool, staying to himself, not really bonding, just feeling his surroundings and talking to his counselor when he could. He wanted to get qualified for as many of the programs as he could that would help him get out of there sooner than later. The whole reality of seeing the violent reaction to a man beaten bloody by another angry man over a tasty cake was a wake-up call. He just wanted to do his time and go home, not trade snack packs, cokes and noodles and get messed up over filling or no filling.

 

His eyes where still irritated due to the misty pepper spray used by the guards to break up the fight and control the situation. He had promptly backed away and removed his top shirt when he saw a group of them enter the unit. He removed his shirt because, regardless of whether he was involved or not, there was evidence on it and he would at least be taken into the Lieutenant’s office for questioning. He definitely wasn’t going to be labeled as a snitch, nobody knew him and right now, there would be nobody to back him up that he wasn’t a snitch. That obvious fact t that he would be considered a white boy snitching would probably make it worse, at least that is what he assumed. To avoid everything, let the shirt go, trash it.

 

Both the attacker and the victim were handcuffed and taken out of the unit. One of them was going to need serious medical attention. The Unit was locked down. He wondered how long this would last, especially since the bagged meals that came down were peanut butter and jelly, an apple and milk.

 

No phone calls would be made while on lock down. Even when let out a few at a time for showers, the phones were cut off. What if I wanted to call my girl instead of taking a shower, eric pondered. His mind started wandering, wondering what she was doing, if she were even home, who she might be with, or if she was patiently waiting on his call.

"A" Game

 

Looking in the mirror, the face I see looking back at me is the face of a broken girl. Her caramel skin was missing her glow, eyes missing the light. She stood behind a mask now adding what was naturally missing underneath make-up so that when she walked into the business meeting all that stood before her team was a woman who was radiant and confident, with a smile on her face that says “life is good,” her "A" game.

 

In this new environment and in this new place of New York City, there is no one who can tell that Aliyah silently condemned herself because of the signs she missed, and the moves she made to uproot her life for someone who didn’t turn out to be the person he was supposed to be. At the same time, she had found a wonderful job which could possibly be a great career if only she chose to stay. She was only still in this City because she didn’t want to run back home to North Carolina as a failure. Everyone told her to stay, don’t go. There were people, family and friends that looked up to her and she didn’t want to admit, she made a bad decision even though she felt it before she left home. Nobody knew the things she kept hidden, her secret battle within herself that had nothing to do with a relationship, but herself.

 

Alright young lady, let’s get out of here and go run this camp.

 

Michelle, I’m not telling you that I couldn’t use a little help in my office. What I am telling you is that I have no time for a sand bagging kid, who thinks that being an A+ student and getting minimum wage just to buy a pair of the hottest Jordans working in my office, temp or no temp, I don’t have any children and I don’t wipe snot noses or asses. Get me an adult!!

 

I was frustrated, since becoming the top Advertising Accounts Executive at my company, I had been on a roll, but once I lost my assistant who decided to go to school full time instead of part time night courses, good help was hard to come by. I have no time for babysitting interns. I need someone who can take instructions, follow them and doesn’t need 50 damn confirmations while I’m in between meetings, or my five minute coffee break. Every minute counted and I don’t want to include any headaches. I’m a scheduler, it I wasn’t, it would be easy to lose control and fall apart. It took time to develop the skills and efficiency that I have acquired in the time I acquired it and the circumstances that I came from. Life is good. The pay…yeah that’s good too, although I hardly had time to enjoy its lucrative advantages. I was on my "A" game, at 26 years old and I was definitely well put together by now.

 

It’s been 5 years since I moved to New York City with my self- absorbed boyfriend at the time and he broke my heart, left me high and dry with the rent note in the ghetto, minimal knowledge of the subway system or any clue as to survive in what I would call the unofficial capital of the world. I was so fascinated by this City when I first came and quite intimidated by the thought of living here and it not just being a weekend trip or a short vacation. I was going to live amongst this crazy diversity of people who depended on taxis and subways and knew their way around the blocks, streets and avenues. Yes there is a difference. It’s just one complete huge grid, it’s a maze. Coming from Winston-Salem North Carolina, I am a country girl and oh my the culture shock from South to North was difficult to adjust to, especially since that asshole left me to fend of myself in a city where cabbies don’t just take advantage of tourists, but anyone who is not paying attention. Never say yes to taking the FDR, never. You have to watch yourself being alone, unknown and unfamiliar in a place where everyone jaywalks, the streets smell like piss, and stealing cabs is a mission of snooze you lose. You must walk fast and go with the flow of the crowd and don’t bother to complain about pushy people, bumping shoulders and no one has time to say or even thing about excuse me, please and thank you.

 

All of this was annoying and had me ready to bash a few people’s heads in, but once I realized that it’s the culture and either I had to adapt or be swallowed, I chose adaptation and I have loved it ever since. Once I was past the site seeing and tourist stage, the break up the heart ache, got a new job, I was on a roll; new home, Mercedes, and even a favorite designer. I was a hot market for political campaign advertising and shall I say sweet on the eyes. Initially, that’s how I acquired my first political commercial. A police chief, running for City attorney had his eye on me during an advertising planning meeting where I was on the board. He wanted a date, I wanted a top account to prove that I had what it took to be an executive, I needed a pay raise and some well-deserved respect. Once he realized I wasn’t just a pretty piece of meat and that my first mini campaigns resulted in favoritism of him winning the seat. He stopped hitting on me and told me to go to work. I got some great recommendations and support once I wedged my foot in the door. Besides we just didn’t match and I didn’t need anyone thinking that I had slept my way into business. It was strictly business, however I can say a year prior to that, the forty extra pounds I had on me probably would have gotten me looked over. Now that I am in a position of respect and power, keep your eyes in check though. It’s sad to say, but it’s the truth. Looks help.

 

“Diana, what are you doing for lunch”, I asked my assistant. Diana looked young, although she was a year older than myself. She was bi-racial, light brown skin, shoulder length dark semi kinky curls. She stood at 5’2 and was a bubbly refreshing presence in the office each day. I was a little jealous of her slim physique, although, I loved my hips, they were a constant distraction within my wardrobe and the attention of many googly eyes when I walked into business meetings. Buying my outfits two sizes bigger only showed me to be desperately trying to hide my hips and shamefully noticing that it didn’t work.

 

“Oh hey, Patrick is meeting me for pizza at Vinny’s.” She smiled. “What are you doing?”

 

“Oh, well okay, girl, I will just grab a snack down the hall, “ I replied disappointingly.

 

I liked Diana, that was my roll dog and at times, I lived vicariously through her whenever I had some down time and could catch up at work. She would often invite me out for drinks, but I was always too busy. Plus she liked the buddy system. Meeting a guy and having him bring his guy friend,