I woke up drenched, in what I thought, was sweat. The room was small. Three walls were concrete and the fourth: iron bars. Where am I…Who am I… and why is the right side of my body sore? I got up out of a bed I was laying in. The mattress was very thin and flat. My legs shook as I stood up and looked around the room. I saw a window barely high enough to see through. I approached it, walking slowly to keep my balance. Placing my hands on the bottom of the window, I saw both my hands covered in dry blood. I panicked and continued trying to look out the window to keep my mind of off it. There were brightly colored banners everywhere: purple, green, and yellow. Beads covered the street as if a tornado threw them there. That’s when I realized I wasn’t covered in sweat. The moisture from the humid air had settled on my skin while I was asleep.
Where was I? The flags, the beads, the humidity. I was in Louisiana. Must have been right after a Mardi Gras parade. I went back to the bed to rest my body. I’m in Louisiana, around February or March, but why am I in jail. I heard footsteps walking down the hallway toward my cell. A tall man at least 6”5’ with an officer uniform opened the creaking iron bar door. “Follow me” he said in a deep, raspy voice. I obeyed in fear of getting in even more trouble than I already was. We walked down a long hallway with more cell doors; most of the others were still asleep. He led me into another small room. The room was empty, except for a rectangular table in the center and some chairs. I sat down in one of the chairs. The wall across from me had a glass window connecting this room and another, where the officer watched. I looked around and saw a camera in the right corner behind me.
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