First you go to R&E (Reception and Evaluations) just before you hit the yard so you can get classified and so on. In South Carolina, it's a brutal, sluggish process. Just after I hit the yard (Turbeville CI) I had to check out within 2 weeks of being in genpop (Tawcaw B) and I had to leave because of a group of 6 or 7 people. Let's start with the first two: Philly and Dollar. He stole my ID card and sold it to Dollar (who is a Muslim white dude) and he looked me up and had his people put $100 on my books. Philly later gave it back to me along with Dollar's bag. I later found out why. They knew this was my first bid and I was soft, so they trusted me enough to keep it. When canteen day came, the bag failed to deliver. Something happened, but I don't know what. He told me to call my number up and check the balance. No money left. Most other people (my roommate included) already received their goods. Once I checked out, guess who was called to operations with me? PHILLY! Turns out, he was trying to leave because he owed a bunch of people. I saw the Captain first. I told on HIM, and as I later found out, since RHU was full, they decideed to take me to the last room they had available then and threw his ass in Remini A (worse than Tawcaw) and hengot his ass beat. Turns out, he's a former G-D who got kicked out the gang because he stole from another member. Dollar I told on, and they topk the money off my books and he must'vd got hit with a restriction. He never got his stuff. The Bible once said "those who finish first finish last and those who finish last finish first". Another one is Smoke. He videoed me threatening to kill me on camera, then said he was gonna kill me if I snitched (which I never named him in the incident report because of this) and if I checked in, he'd post the video to his private gang-operated FaceBook messenger group (to which he did). After leaving to the next yard (Kershaw) I got put in a room with someone named "Bobby". He had a 30 year bid for a murder charge he committed as a teen. Long time drug addict, never changed. He's maxing out in 2026. He's in his 40s now, but the dude remembers when Perry was R&E! Anyways, I got high with him but when I was high one night, I accidentally knocked all his dope over on the wet floor and he lost his shit. So he decided to put ME in debt with a bunch of people to bring me down with him (the dude knows mixed martial arts). So he got me to bark up some deals on the flap, and one person I later found out I owed $200 in shard. He couldn't pay off his own debts either, apparently. I was wanting to quit by then anyways, but the state doesn't care about that, obviously. Just put me in a room with whoever. Anyway, come to find out later, one of the dudes I owed said he saw the video of me on theessenger group! So Smoke's homeboys just got clapped later and I stayed on the same yard and they couldn't do shit (even when Sycamore A, which is intake where I was at first, is right next to Palmetto, which is where they sent me after I checked in but they rejected my bid for administrative transfer, just to add insult to injury). The only reason I found out was because "DK" (somebody I knew from R&E) identified me when he went to Palmetto B and spoke with Zip. I don't know anybody I owed either. Just karma in play (or "reap what you sow", which I've had to do myself during my bid, although that came later). The only reason nobody in Palmetto did anything to me is because I had a good roommate who was about to be maxing out in 2026 for an attempted murder charge he served 20 years for, and he had connections to higher ups.
Anyways, I got sent to lockup after I wigged out on the rock (I had a proohetic dream, the second of its kind since the dream I had in January 2021 the night before my arrest) telling md I was gonna do something foolish the next day. I injured myself and had to go to infirmary. Spent 21 days DD time before going back to Palmetto A. I only stayed there for a couple days because I got paranoid after my roommate was joking with me (he told me somebody named "Big Snake" who I owed money to in Sycamore was in Palmetto and ready to beat my ass) so I checked out, but bscause I named Zip this time, they approved an administrative transfer and put me on invalid statewide PC. While in lockup, this was when I converted back to Christianity after asking God that million dollar question that I received an answer to that same night, which coincided with a wakeup call announcing my transfer to Evans CI the next morning (which is the most violent prison in the state that's so bad the state is trying to turn it into a check-in yard just to clean it up). Turns out, that faith was needed for what was to come next. They sent me to Waxhaw B (which is the PC side of Waxhaw, with A-side being PI/the worker's pod) but the problem here is: no dorm on the yard has cameras except for Cherokee (which is also PC, but doesn't have AC and is brutal the conditions on the inside, which will be discussed in brief later), you have roommates there (same with Cherokee except for three cells in each pod which are for transgender/handicapped inmates), and Waxhaw used to be so violent with so many deaths in it that to this day it's like walking into a haunted house (the atmosphere is really fucked up in there, it makes you feel like you want to kill yourself). So they gave me this clownass roommate named "Street" from Abeville County, who is a former Blood and Muslim who got wet up at Tyger River and sent there (he claimed he didn't snitch, because he claimed that if you get stabbed that's automatic PC in SCDC, which I know is bullshit because there was somebody stabbed by his roommate in Tawcaw A after I returned to prison to finish my sentence after violating my parole when I was briefly in a transitional house on supervised reentry for 6 days wuth an asshole landlord who later got sent back to the same room because he refused to snitch). Anyways, we were alright at first, but he was a really bad deucehead. He would claim he was gonna quit and then just moments later somebody announces a deal on the rock and he's barking up some deal on that flap stuttering like Courage the Cowardly Dog trying to be the first one to get it. He would repeat this ritual basically everyday. He would get knocked off and sell a tray for paper only to buy fro the same person again to get the same result. The first day I got there, he was asking me if I wanted to sell my mat for k2 and I had to tell his ass no (they just spray synthetic cannabinoids/JWH-018 and its analogs on paper, sometimes Raid wasp spray or "kD," and legal mail it in). Eventually we started falling out before long. I was in Waxhaw for 48 days total. There was nobody who worked in the whole dorm that I liked, both dayshift and nightshift, both Lts included (one of whom had 4 pending investigations on her last year for opening people's doors to let inmates attack them, hates white people, calls PC inmates "pussies" and she still works there as of July this year). I tried leaving repeatedly, told both Lts, to no success. Lt. Bennett would only let me leave if classification was there. Lt. Harrison would not let me leave period. Just days before I successfully did manage to break free (I stayed for a total of 48 days dealing with his retarded ass) I told my case worker and she told me point blank that was the Lt's job, not hers. But she offered me to leave for security reasons because I did mention him hitting me, but something told me to stay, so I did. Eventually, on 6/24/24 I tried banging on the entrance door to the breezeway during rec (top and bottom tiers get two hours separate, Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays in Waxhaw, but usually all week in Cherokee, because there's always bullshit happening on the rock in Waxhaw, but same hours, 2 hours each, top and bottom separate) so I could get Bennett's attention, but the IRC (who was the imam) was talking shit, so I told him to mind his business. Sometime later, my roommate rolls by the IRC and since they cliqued together, he told my roommate, so he punched me in the face, so I struck him in his meaty neck, and that was when "Main" from #151 (Mark Henry-sized black dude, but muscular, wiyh a bald head) picked me up and bodyslammed me on my left side. Since he was telegraphing which side he was gonna throw me on, I closed my left arm against my body, because I knew that if it were stretched out I wouldn't have an arm by now. A voice in my head was telling me basically that I had two choices: do you fear God, or do you fear these lame ass bitches? And by the way, Main was the same person who talked shit to me earlier, but I shrugged him off like he wasn't shit. After the land on that hard ass tile, I got back up, and continued banging on the door, but this time Bennett answered and I explained to her what was going on, and she asked me who did it, and I pointed to the assholes who lynched me, so she said that since classification was present, she was gonna get me ready. She told me to sit down on the barber chair and wait until she came back, so I walked around and chitchatted with some people. One of them was a white boy that my roommate oppressed days before who was weak and fragile (he beat him and gave jim a black eye but stopped hitting me the moment I swung back because he's a coward and even that bodyslam couldn't keep me down) and he was shaking because his roommate Josh was oppressing him too. I talked gentle words with him, handed him a Bible and he headed up front to classification desk, crying. Come to find out later, he started smiling and rejoicing when I saw him through the glass because he found out he was going home that day. Later they put everybody up for rec but by then I already seen classification and they picked me a room in Cherokee to go to. My left arm was in pain (which didn't go away until fucking AUGUST because of neglected treatment) while Bennett was mocking me. I called her a liar earlier because she kept promising to do something. So we went back up to our rooms, my roommate was already laying down on the bed and she told me to grab my property in there. Since my left arm was out of service, she was telling me to hurry up or she'd close me in, so I threw my trash bag wuth my belongings in there on top my mattress with my good arm and dragged it out before she had the opportunity, the PI worker from Waxhaw A put it in the yellow buggy for me, and we headed off for Cherokee D wing (since Cherokee has 4 pods instead of 2 and is behind a fence). Before I got there, I was up in medical annex and Lt. Brown told me to tell Lt. Moultrie in Cherokee to call the front up later because there was people in the holding cell, but he never did and he just closed my ass in and told me to obtain a sick call, but nobody went to my room with one, so night shift had to work with me on that. Come next day (since sick call OTRs are on Tuesdays for Cherokee) he didn't let me out and so I wwas just left to lick my fucking wounds until the pain went away. By the time I reached Cherokee, I stunk so bad because I was wearing the same uniform since they never offered clothes there and since people's property always winds up stolen in RHU at Kershaw (which is located at Cypress building) I was left without a blanket. I filed for missing property but never received a follow-up, and so had to sleep with my roommates old nut-stain covered, smelly ass blanket until I reached Cherokee when I threw it away (and just slept inside my mattress on the floor because the walls always leaked in my room). But thankfully I received a change of clothes in Cherokee. I was screaming in pain from that shit. He broke my collar bones and messed my body/spinal alignment up, but I pressed through. My mental state was deteriorating since I was in Palmetto A, and I didn't have a psych doctor apot until I had a video conference with Dr. Sarah W. via Slack/Microsoft on the computer, and by the time I saw her, the last time I ever saw a doctor was in fucking MARCH (and the appt was on the 6th of September!). And by that time, I was so out of it, that during the conference she noticed blatant schizophrenia and autism and she recommended me for GPH (Gilliam Psychiatric Hospital at Kirkland). You habe to pass a piss test to go there otherwise they'll think the reason you're acting that way is because of drug use, which they did the same day, to which I passed, and 3 days later they called me up to go up to operations for RHU to await transfer (only mental health employees/MHOs can be present as they transfer you there). Once there in Gilliam B #202, which I arrived the next day on Sept. 10th, 2024 (I stayed at ECI for 126 days and that was enough for me) I was there for 30 days before checking out of PC by telling the doctor there that I wasn't safe to go back, so they sent me to Choices in Moultrie A at Broad River across the road for the remainder of my bid upon release for supervised reentry. It was like ghost town (only a dozen people there, me included). So I enjoyed some peace until I left. Also worthy to note, while I was in Waxhaw, a mieacle happened with somebody else when two people overdosed on the rock (one was Trill or Tree-a, and the other was somebody from 133 who vaguely looked like Justin Timberlake), with Trill choking on his own vomit after getting ahold of fentanyl and the other one temporarily dead on the rock, his face turned blue. I put Trill on his side, and he was able to vomit the shit out (my roommate assisted him, and his vomit stunk) and banged on the door for Lt Bennett to come and clap us on rec while calling in responders to bring them out. Thankfully, #133 survived (his roommate left him and checked in to Cherokee on the side I was), but with brain damage. He had cuts on his arms, never got help for it, and still did drugs afterwards. I worried for him enough to tell it to my therapist MHO Foster, but obviously I never seen of him since I left Waxhaw.
(That was a long ass paragraph)
Once I hit the street while out on supervised reentry for 6 days before catching a probation violation, I was at Clean Slate in Sumter (one of only 4 transitional houses in the state that allows sex offenders). Sumter is a real shithole. The city is all rundown looking and the jail is bigger than the fucking hospital, and the doctors there will fucking kill you. While at Sumter-Lee Regional Dept. Of Corrections (since Lee County doesn't have its own jail because there's nothing but Bishopville and backroads in Lee County, so Sumter County jail takes people who catch charges in Lee County also) I went crazy and got put on a smog (turtle vest for people on suicide watch) where I was for about 10 days before they sent me to seg in Bravo/B-Pod on PC. While there, I continued to decompensate to the point that I strung up and pulled a muscle in my neck trying to hang myself because the moment they placed me in the individual cell, there was feces smeared on the walls, piss stains on the floor, dead skin and toenails all over the bedframe and the mattresss stunk like the last viking that was in there since they don't clean rooms or mats. In some cases, I've seen COs spraying the mats off before throwing them back in people's rooms. There were two retarded ass niggers banging on the doors and screaming like baboons all day and night and that really made it worse. After I told them to take me off PC, they gave me three roommates. The first was some old Asian guy. The second was a cool mixed black dude from Bishopville who came from Sumter Medical Center after bwing arrested after getting drunk for days and not eating for the last 2 and he supposedly hit his head in the back of the cop car and got stitches, but about died the next day had his people not bonded him out, because the dumbfuck doctors at Tuomay never bothered to check his alcohol levels. I told a nurse, but she fucking lied about getting help (the dude threw up everytime he drank water and the fake ass "chaplain" they had working there lied to his ass the night he got there, saying he was gonna get food but didn't even give him a mat or a blanket). The third was some faggot white boy from Alabama that I hated. I got in a fight with him and that was the one fight that I won actually (he tried to sneak up behind me and start slingin but I flipped around and his ass fell on the commode before hitting his ass twice, asking him if he was good, before backing off). He suffered cuts to his ear and all over his back because of that. Eventually, they let me go to Echo/E-pod, which is open pod and I stayed there about 4 days (I stayed in B-pod for 30-something to which I only had one rec for 30 minutes and 3 showers that whole time). While in E-pod I was suffering from burning throat pains going back to my previous suicide attempt. My throat felt like it was on fire when I swallowed water but eating food alleviated it, and if I slept, my throat would swell overnight. All the day nurses did was give me Tylenol. I abput gpt in anpther fight after some big black dude started talking shit and I told his ass off.
After going to court via video conference, thet sent me back to R&E at Kirkland. This time in C2. While there, I was met by a retarded buff nigger and a frail nerdy white dudewith a beard. I only lasted three days in that cell before checking out. I told the whole rock that nigger checked out of A1 (because he kept putting my shit on the rock) so he put me in a headlock with my arm and head in it until I coild barely breathe, so I thrashed around violently and injured his spine and left claw marks from my dirty ass fingernails on his back before he let me go. Funny enough, he must've pulled something back because the swallowing pains and inflammation went away after that. Kirkland medical and mental health didn't do shit about it aside from putting me in my room and scheduling some xrays and that's it. The only way I was able to check out is because when he and my other roommate about got into it, I told Lt. Miller he had a knofe, so they had to get contraband come in my room, handcuffed us out, tossed the cell and let us back in. While they were about to uncuff that retarded nigger Darius, I started throwing headbutts and kicks while he was on the door and threatened to kill him the moment police left, so they took me out the cell. Then I went to B1A (because B1B is DJJ R&E, since under 21 is considered "DJJ" in SCDC) and got put in a room with a retarded person again. This time some Honduran dude named Julio and a cool black dude named Ty. Julio was such a fucking deucehead that he had to have the shit every single day, until one night I wigged out and attacked him, throwing an elbow to his neck before he pounded my ass out and I had to go to infirmary. I caught a fighting charge because I admitted to throwing the first hit. Then they sent me to F3 with these two pussy ass child molesters in my room (James Pratt and some bald dude named Paul) who both caught CSC (Criminal Sexual Conduct) charges with kids. I tried leaving the room and having James kicked out, and I one time threatened to beat up my roommates to the Lt, but she never listened of course.
Then I was off to the yard again. This time Tawcaw A at Turbeville. Again, I was given two retarded roommates. The first was Miguel Garcia. He was the same retard who got pounded out by Country at Cherokee (same bigass white dude I tried to attack after wigging out). First night I arrived, I fell off the top bunk, hit the back of my head on the toilet bowl, busted it open and had to get it glued up, and injured my left leg while wigging out on k2/deuce. After that, I couldn't fight no more, because of how badly injured my ribcage was. So both roommates bullied me, pretty much. Him and Lavante Woodberry, after he left. I got sent to the hospital after Lavante whacked me in the face with a Coast soap bar and I had to get stitches at Tuomay hospital. Maxed out from PC.
Anyways, I got sent to lockup after I wigged out on the rock (I had a proohetic dream, the second of its kind since the dream I had in January 2021 the night before my arrest) telling md I was gonna do something foolish the next day. I injured myself and had to go to infirmary. Spent 21 days DD time before going back to Palmetto A. I only stayed there for a couple days because I got paranoid after my roommate was joking with me (he told me somebody named "Big Snake" who I owed money to in Sycamore was in Palmetto and ready to beat my ass) so I checked out, but bscause I named Zip this time, they approved an administrative transfer and put me on invalid statewide PC. While in lockup, this was when I converted back to Christianity after asking God that million dollar question that I received an answer to that same night, which coincided with a wakeup call announcing my transfer to Evans CI the next morning (which is the most violent prison in the state that's so bad the state is trying to turn it into a check-in yard just to clean it up). Turns out, that faith was needed for what was to come next. They sent me to Waxhaw B (which is the PC side of Waxhaw, with A-side being PI/the worker's pod) but the problem here is: no dorm on the yard has cameras except for Cherokee (which is also PC, but doesn't have AC and is brutal the conditions on the inside, which will be discussed in brief later), you have roommates there (same with Cherokee except for three cells in each pod which are for transgender/handicapped inmates), and Waxhaw used to be so violent with so many deaths in it that to this day it's like walking into a haunted house (the atmosphere is really fucked up in there, it makes you feel like you want to kill yourself). So they gave me this clownass roommate named "Street" from Abeville County, who is a former Blood and Muslim who got wet up at Tyger River and sent there (he claimed he didn't snitch, because he claimed that if you get stabbed that's automatic PC in SCDC, which I know is bullshit because there was somebody stabbed by his roommate in Tawcaw A after I returned to prison to finish my sentence after violating my parole when I was briefly in a transitional house on supervised reentry for 6 days wuth an asshole landlord who later got sent back to the same room because he refused to snitch). Anyways, we were alright at first, but he was a really bad deucehead. He would claim he was gonna quit and then just moments later somebody announces a deal on the rock and he's barking up some deal on that flap stuttering like Courage the Cowardly Dog trying to be the first one to get it. He would repeat this ritual basically everyday. He would get knocked off and sell a tray for paper only to buy fro the same person again to get the same result. The first day I got there, he was asking me if I wanted to sell my mat for k2 and I had to tell his ass no (they just spray synthetic cannabinoids/JWH-018 and its analogs on paper, sometimes Raid wasp spray or "kD," and legal mail it in). Eventually we started falling out before long. I was in Waxhaw for 48 days total. There was nobody who worked in the whole dorm that I liked, both dayshift and nightshift, both Lts included (one of whom had 4 pending investigations on her last year for opening people's doors to let inmates attack them, hates white people, calls PC inmates "pussies" and she still works there as of July this year). I tried leaving repeatedly, told both Lts, to no success. Lt. Bennett would only let me leave if classification was there. Lt. Harrison would not let me leave period. Just days before I successfully did manage to break free (I stayed for a total of 48 days dealing with his retarded ass) I told my case worker and she told me point blank that was the Lt's job, not hers. But she offered me to leave for security reasons because I did mention him hitting me, but something told me to stay, so I did. Eventually, on 6/24/24 I tried banging on the entrance door to the breezeway during rec (top and bottom tiers get two hours separate, Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays in Waxhaw, but usually all week in Cherokee, because there's always bullshit happening on the rock in Waxhaw, but same hours, 2 hours each, top and bottom separate) so I could get Bennett's attention, but the IRC (who was the imam) was talking shit, so I told him to mind his business. Sometime later, my roommate rolls by the IRC and since they cliqued together, he told my roommate, so he punched me in the face, so I struck him in his meaty neck, and that was when "Main" from #151 (Mark Henry-sized black dude, but muscular, wiyh a bald head) picked me up and bodyslammed me on my left side. Since he was telegraphing which side he was gonna throw me on, I closed my left arm against my body, because I knew that if it were stretched out I wouldn't have an arm by now. A voice in my head was telling me basically that I had two choices: do you fear God, or do you fear these lame ass bitches? And by the way, Main was the same person who talked shit to me earlier, but I shrugged him off like he wasn't shit. After the land on that hard ass tile, I got back up, and continued banging on the door, but this time Bennett answered and I explained to her what was going on, and she asked me who did it, and I pointed to the assholes who lynched me, so she said that since classification was present, she was gonna get me ready. She told me to sit down on the barber chair and wait until she came back, so I walked around and chitchatted with some people. One of them was a white boy that my roommate oppressed days before who was weak and fragile (he beat him and gave jim a black eye but stopped hitting me the moment I swung back because he's a coward and even that bodyslam couldn't keep me down) and he was shaking because his roommate Josh was oppressing him too. I talked gentle words with him, handed him a Bible and he headed up front to classification desk, crying. Come to find out later, he started smiling and rejoicing when I saw him through the glass because he found out he was going home that day. Later they put everybody up for rec but by then I already seen classification and they picked me a room in Cherokee to go to. My left arm was in pain (which didn't go away until fucking AUGUST because of neglected treatment) while Bennett was mocking me. I called her a liar earlier because she kept promising to do something. So we went back up to our rooms, my roommate was already laying down on the bed and she told me to grab my property in there. Since my left arm was out of service, she was telling me to hurry up or she'd close me in, so I threw my trash bag wuth my belongings in there on top my mattress with my good arm and dragged it out before she had the opportunity, the PI worker from Waxhaw A put it in the yellow buggy for me, and we headed off for Cherokee D wing (since Cherokee has 4 pods instead of 2 and is behind a fence). Before I got there, I was up in medical annex and Lt. Brown told me to tell Lt. Moultrie in Cherokee to call the front up later because there was people in the holding cell, but he never did and he just closed my ass in and told me to obtain a sick call, but nobody went to my room with one, so night shift had to work with me on that. Come next day (since sick call OTRs are on Tuesdays for Cherokee) he didn't let me out and so I wwas just left to lick my fucking wounds until the pain went away. By the time I reached Cherokee, I stunk so bad because I was wearing the same uniform since they never offered clothes there and since people's property always winds up stolen in RHU at Kershaw (which is located at Cypress building) I was left without a blanket. I filed for missing property but never received a follow-up, and so had to sleep with my roommates old nut-stain covered, smelly ass blanket until I reached Cherokee when I threw it away (and just slept inside my mattress on the floor because the walls always leaked in my room). But thankfully I received a change of clothes in Cherokee. I was screaming in pain from that shit. He broke my collar bones and messed my body/spinal alignment up, but I pressed through. My mental state was deteriorating since I was in Palmetto A, and I didn't have a psych doctor apot until I had a video conference with Dr. Sarah W. via Slack/Microsoft on the computer, and by the time I saw her, the last time I ever saw a doctor was in fucking MARCH (and the appt was on the 6th of September!). And by that time, I was so out of it, that during the conference she noticed blatant schizophrenia and autism and she recommended me for GPH (Gilliam Psychiatric Hospital at Kirkland). You habe to pass a piss test to go there otherwise they'll think the reason you're acting that way is because of drug use, which they did the same day, to which I passed, and 3 days later they called me up to go up to operations for RHU to await transfer (only mental health employees/MHOs can be present as they transfer you there). Once there in Gilliam B #202, which I arrived the next day on Sept. 10th, 2024 (I stayed at ECI for 126 days and that was enough for me) I was there for 30 days before checking out of PC by telling the doctor there that I wasn't safe to go back, so they sent me to Choices in Moultrie A at Broad River across the road for the remainder of my bid upon release for supervised reentry. It was like ghost town (only a dozen people there, me included). So I enjoyed some peace until I left. Also worthy to note, while I was in Waxhaw, a mieacle happened with somebody else when two people overdosed on the rock (one was Trill or Tree-a, and the other was somebody from 133 who vaguely looked like Justin Timberlake), with Trill choking on his own vomit after getting ahold of fentanyl and the other one temporarily dead on the rock, his face turned blue. I put Trill on his side, and he was able to vomit the shit out (my roommate assisted him, and his vomit stunk) and banged on the door for Lt Bennett to come and clap us on rec while calling in responders to bring them out. Thankfully, #133 survived (his roommate left him and checked in to Cherokee on the side I was), but with brain damage. He had cuts on his arms, never got help for it, and still did drugs afterwards. I worried for him enough to tell it to my therapist MHO Foster, but obviously I never seen of him since I left Waxhaw.
(That was a long ass paragraph)
Once I hit the street while out on supervised reentry for 6 days before catching a probation violation, I was at Clean Slate in Sumter (one of only 4 transitional houses in the state that allows sex offenders). Sumter is a real shithole. The city is all rundown looking and the jail is bigger than the fucking hospital, and the doctors there will fucking kill you. While at Sumter-Lee Regional Dept. Of Corrections (since Lee County doesn't have its own jail because there's nothing but Bishopville and backroads in Lee County, so Sumter County jail takes people who catch charges in Lee County also) I went crazy and got put on a smog (turtle vest for people on suicide watch) where I was for about 10 days before they sent me to seg in Bravo/B-Pod on PC. While there, I continued to decompensate to the point that I strung up and pulled a muscle in my neck trying to hang myself because the moment they placed me in the individual cell, there was feces smeared on the walls, piss stains on the floor, dead skin and toenails all over the bedframe and the mattresss stunk like the last viking that was in there since they don't clean rooms or mats. In some cases, I've seen COs spraying the mats off before throwing them back in people's rooms. There were two retarded ass niggers banging on the doors and screaming like baboons all day and night and that really made it worse. After I told them to take me off PC, they gave me three roommates. The first was some old Asian guy. The second was a cool mixed black dude from Bishopville who came from Sumter Medical Center after bwing arrested after getting drunk for days and not eating for the last 2 and he supposedly hit his head in the back of the cop car and got stitches, but about died the next day had his people not bonded him out, because the dumbfuck doctors at Tuomay never bothered to check his alcohol levels. I told a nurse, but she fucking lied about getting help (the dude threw up everytime he drank water and the fake ass "chaplain" they had working there lied to his ass the night he got there, saying he was gonna get food but didn't even give him a mat or a blanket). The third was some faggot white boy from Alabama that I hated. I got in a fight with him and that was the one fight that I won actually (he tried to sneak up behind me and start slingin but I flipped around and his ass fell on the commode before hitting his ass twice, asking him if he was good, before backing off). He suffered cuts to his ear and all over his back because of that. Eventually, they let me go to Echo/E-pod, which is open pod and I stayed there about 4 days (I stayed in B-pod for 30-something to which I only had one rec for 30 minutes and 3 showers that whole time). While in E-pod I was suffering from burning throat pains going back to my previous suicide attempt. My throat felt like it was on fire when I swallowed water but eating food alleviated it, and if I slept, my throat would swell overnight. All the day nurses did was give me Tylenol. I abput gpt in anpther fight after some big black dude started talking shit and I told his ass off.
After going to court via video conference, thet sent me back to R&E at Kirkland. This time in C2. While there, I was met by a retarded buff nigger and a frail nerdy white dudewith a beard. I only lasted three days in that cell before checking out. I told the whole rock that nigger checked out of A1 (because he kept putting my shit on the rock) so he put me in a headlock with my arm and head in it until I coild barely breathe, so I thrashed around violently and injured his spine and left claw marks from my dirty ass fingernails on his back before he let me go. Funny enough, he must've pulled something back because the swallowing pains and inflammation went away after that. Kirkland medical and mental health didn't do shit about it aside from putting me in my room and scheduling some xrays and that's it. The only way I was able to check out is because when he and my other roommate about got into it, I told Lt. Miller he had a knofe, so they had to get contraband come in my room, handcuffed us out, tossed the cell and let us back in. While they were about to uncuff that retarded nigger Darius, I started throwing headbutts and kicks while he was on the door and threatened to kill him the moment police left, so they took me out the cell. Then I went to B1A (because B1B is DJJ R&E, since under 21 is considered "DJJ" in SCDC) and got put in a room with a retarded person again. This time some Honduran dude named Julio and a cool black dude named Ty. Julio was such a fucking deucehead that he had to have the shit every single day, until one night I wigged out and attacked him, throwing an elbow to his neck before he pounded my ass out and I had to go to infirmary. I caught a fighting charge because I admitted to throwing the first hit. Then they sent me to F3 with these two pussy ass child molesters in my room (James Pratt and some bald dude named Paul) who both caught CSC (Criminal Sexual Conduct) charges with kids. I tried leaving the room and having James kicked out, and I one time threatened to beat up my roommates to the Lt, but she never listened of course.
Then I was off to the yard again. This time Tawcaw A at Turbeville. Again, I was given two retarded roommates. The first was Miguel Garcia. He was the same retard who got pounded out by Country at Cherokee (same bigass white dude I tried to attack after wigging out). First night I arrived, I fell off the top bunk, hit the back of my head on the toilet bowl, busted it open and had to get it glued up, and injured my left leg while wigging out on k2/deuce. After that, I couldn't fight no more, because of how badly injured my ribcage was. So both roommates bullied me, pretty much. Him and Lavante Woodberry, after he left. I got sent to the hospital after Lavante whacked me in the face with a Coast soap bar and I had to get stitches at Tuomay hospital. Maxed out from PC.
