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Friday, June 7, 2013

Seeing Red

Brandon sat naked and angry in the middle of the cell. It was hot enough to sweat out pain and watch it drip to the floor. He would watch the floor for months to com like a wounded animal watches the world to stay safe. He messed up again, and hurt the same person he always hurts.

Mr. Block had spent the last six hours praying that his old car could make it such a distance. That he'd have enough for a bite to eat and gasoline both to and from. And that he'd get a longer visit with his grandson to celebrate his graduation. When he pulled into the parking lot he said, "thank you Jesus," still sipping an iced tea that had accompanied his earlier cheeseburger meal. A perfect day. He joined the other people all filing inside, all eager to watch their loved ones take such a big step in life.

Brandon exploded and the two officers pinned him to the wall in his cell. Still naked, he kicked with as much might as possible. He screamed, "More," as he was shot in the eyes with pepper spray, and he laughed hysterically before finally crying.

The tired Grandfather placed his ID on the counter, and prepared to walk through the scanner when a large man with Captain bars stopped him.
"Mr. Block," the man said, "Dale went a little South on us today during the dress rehearsal for graduation. He helped himself to some supplies the staff had been using for decorating. We found stuff in his socks. Sad, he worked so hard on getting that G.E.D. We got him up there in lock up. He is seeing red, kicking and fighting the officers. When he calms down in a few days we will get him a call home to you. Sorry sir."
The hurt man drove home and prayed. He prayed for his Grandson, who was lost.