TransEnd

[Ziggy455]

 

 

1/3

 

 

Dixon smiled. The lights of early morning sun blared through the armoured cracks of the prison van. The warden of West Virginia state correctional facility had seen fit to come and see Dixon off personally. For the past four years, Dixon had spent them in a maximum security prison; his conviction was false, or so he thought. Assaulting a Federal agent, especially when that agent was banging his wife of five years, an assault was permitted, but not the arson his house and a badly burnt FA. Dixon, like any other good man, was shocked. He overreacted just like any other sane person would do, and he paid for it in form of the last four years. Today, he was going home, to meet his four year old daughter. Finally he was going to see his little girl.

 

Dixon behaved quite well inside; befriending the right people. Staying away from any crews; Bloods, Aryans brotherhood or any big time syndicates. He kept his head down, even managed to get along with the cynical warden; John Deans. He wasn’t alone in the van, a grunt with a loaded shotgun resting by his side, a tattooed skinhead – a white supremacist. Dixon had never spoke to him personally; one night in the wardens office while the two were sharing their third bottle of Jack Daniel, Deans let slip that one of the most notorious skinheads was only in on a five month stint, what for, the warden never divulged but his face showed regret and disgust clearly enough for Dixon to leave the interest there.

 

The supremacist eyed Dixon; his eyes strong and straightforward. Dixon, in an attempt to mellow the brother began to speak. “Hey man,” he said loudly; trying to ignore the roar of the engine. The racist’s eyes lit up as he snapped out of his glare. “What?” he asked with an irritable tone. He seemed like he was guilty of something. “You out today?” Dixon asked curiously; trying to sound as co-operative as possible. The racist looked away, staring at the door; ignoring Dixon’s question.

 

The free man took the hint and became quiet; he reached into his pocket and pulled out a letter, the final letter that his ex wife had written him, two years ago. It read:

 

Dear Johnny

 

I couldn’t think of how to start this letter. So I guess I’ll just tell you how it is.

 

I’m pregnant Johnny. It’s yours, and I know this because I took a DNA test. She’s yours. I know this must come as a shock and you must have a million questions but all I can tell you right now is that, When you get out...You can come and see her. Come and see your daughter. This will be the last letter I give you now. I know it’s a shock but I just can’t bear to see you knowing you’ve got this kid out here. I’ll send you some pictures when she’s born.

 

I know you must hate me but please, don’t do anything crazy; for your baby’s sake.

 

Goodbye Dixon.

 

Love Candy.

 

PS: I’m going to call her Sarah.

 

Two years. Two very long years of slow f*cking pain. But Dixon couldn’t hate Candy for what she’d done – he understood for the most of it. He didn’t care, those years were over, he was going to see Sarah, today! That’s what made him happy. The irony of the situation was what drove him crazy for the past two years was the same thing which was pushing him through each slow bastard day. He read the letter a few more times, just so the feeling of appreciation could sink in. Today was the day of the rest of his life; his daughter was going to be waiting for him at airport. Candy would be there too, and Dixon liked that. Sure, it was her fault he was in there but he was ready for a fresh start; ready for a new life.

 

The ride got a bit bumpier. Startling the guard; who went straight for the gun. “Calm down, Serpico.” Dixon said with a sigh of irritation. The racist gave a small chuckle, the guard was sweating, he gulped heavily and tipped his blue hat; loosening the grip on the gun.

 

The Aryan brother faced the two again; his face a little softer. “You’re edgy bro, you need a smoke?” asked the brother to the guard. The guard’s was confused. “Here.” Said the racist; handing him a joint. The guard was more than accepting. Dixon didn’t like this; the guard was actually going to take that off a prisoner? Was this guy that much of a rookie?

 

The other prisoner handed him a lighter; the guard lit the piece, and began to smoke it. He relaxed immediately and smiled towards the racist. The racist smiled back and raised his eyebrows. In a matter of seconds everything took a turn for the worse. The guard was laughing as he made some small talk with the prisoner, but as he inhaled the smoke again, something was wrong. He coughed violently, his voice sounded deeper. “What’s in this sh*t man?” asked the guard with a serious face, staring at the joint.

 

“Black widow with a transcended kicker...” he began to rant like a seventh grade science teacher; his eyes staring down as he reached into his pockets. The guard looked at the joint and laughed as he listened to what ingredients he was smoking. “And uh, Trisodium Phosphate Powder.” He said with a sinister tone, staring up at Dixon. Dixon panicked, staying still.

 

“What is that trisodi- phate sh*t?” asked the oblivious guard. Dixon opened his mouth. “It’s powdered Anti-“The racist placed his fingers on his lips to signal for Dixon to shut the f*ck up.

 

“Well...Whatever it is,” he coughed again. “It’s good sh*t.” He coughed once more, this time, it was rougher, and as he continued to cough it built up into more violent coughs and eventually into a fit, as if somebody was choking him. The racist grabbed the fitting guard and placed what he had pulled out of his pocket into the guard’s throat. As he turned around, it was clear that prisoner had taken a pen knife and sliced it straight into the guard’s throat.

 

“sh*t.” Yelled Dixon, the racist moved over and placed his hand over the man’s mouth; Signalling again for the man to keep quiet. “Everything alright back there?” yelled a voice from through a small slit, a ray of light blaring through. “Yeah.” Replied the brother; imitating the guard’s voice. The slit slammed shut.

 

“Sit still and you might survive this.” The racist said angrily, blood began to seep onto the floor. Dixon’s thoughts raced; what was he going to do, stop him? Let him go on with what he was already doing?

 

The brother grabbed the dead guards shotgun, placed it exactly where the driver was sitting; the twelve gauge would tear through that metal and flesh like butter! Dixon panicked again.

 

“I’m not going to a f*ckin’ asylum.” Whispered the racist; his finger pressed tightly on the trigger. Dixon’s adrenaline was pumping, he watched at the gun was about to fire. “NO!” he screamed; pushing the racist away, a fire of the gun deafening the two. Dixon had managed to push the racist onto the floor, but he was taken quick as he jammed his small blade into Dixon’s knee. “YOU MOTHERf*ckER!” screamed Dixon, he lunged for the racist. As the ride got even bumpier; screams began to come from the front of the van. As the two looked where the racist has aimed; a few large holes had torn through the metal and hit someone. The driver!

 

“Yes!” yelled the Racist.

 

“No!” screamed Dixon; his fist colliding with the racist’s tattooed face.

 

The van sped out of control, as it collided with something; everything went black for Dixon. The muffled gunshots and yells echoed away.

 

He just wanted to see his daughter...he didn’t want this...

Edited August 8, 2010 by Ziggy455

[MetaPhysics]

Not bad of a read at all buddy. I must ask have you done prison stories before? I do recall the three-person inter changing story from one of your earlier shorts, I like that you keep consistency.

 

As for the storyline, even though the plot was a little played and cliche I found it good. Tell me, what made you pick as daughter a signal of hope? Why not his brother whom he never got to see, or father or someone like that? The action scene was great, I found that quite enjoyable.

 

 

 

I’m pregnant Johnny. It’s yours, and I know this because I took a DNA test. She’s yours.

 

Right here, you could have made it a bit easier and said "She's yours Johnny,I know she is. " That would also leave it open for plot twists like that later on in the story.

 

 

I am afraid I cannot see anything else of peculiarity right now, but I will say I did not like the beginning and second sentence. I found that for a moment you changed from past-tense to present-tense, making me think this was one of those stories.

 

 

Any way I liked it. Keep on trucking man.

Edited August 6, 2010 by MetaPhysics

[Tyler]

Yes, he made a good point on all of that actually.

 

 

So zig, are you going to pull the other perspectives as the Aryan and the guard rookie?

[LittleMiss17]

This is a good read, however there are a few errors.

[Ziggy455]

Not bad of a read at all buddy. I must ask have you done prison stories before? I do recall the three-person inter changing story from one of your earlier shorts, I like that you keep consistency.

 

As for the storyline, even though the plot was a little played and cliche I found it good. Tell me, what made you pick as daughter a signal of hope? Why not his brother whom he never got to see, or father or someone like that? The action scene was great, I found that quite enjoyable.

 

 

 

I’m pregnant Johnny. It’s yours, and I know this because I took a DNA test. She’s yours.

 

Right here, you could have made it a bit easier and said "She's yours Johnny,I know she is. " That would also leave it open for plot twists like that later on in the story.

 

 

I am afraid I cannot see anything else of peculiarity right now, but I will say I did not like the beginning and second sentence. I found that for a moment you changed from past-tense to present-tense, making me think this was one of those stories.

 

 

Any way I liked it. Keep on trucking man.

Thankyou for the feedback man, it was most appreciated.

 

As for the daughter as a signal of hope - Dixon has seen his father or his brother before, he has never met his daughter. He went in for hard time, he just wants to get out and see what good has come out of his life since all the strife has downed him since he was in prison.

 

And I'll check up on that past and present sh*t, Hope you keep reading.

 

[Cashy]

Nice read, just what I expect from you Zig

 

Good to see you back mate!

[Ziggy455]

Right now, I'm rewriting and rewriting to make this story more dark and longer.

 

The plot has changed, slightly!