Born to Breed

Born and breed to procreate and Submit to my husband, also Know as the head of my family. In my mind just as much my jailor as the prison I sit in now. Eight days past my sixteenth birthday and pregnant with baby three my hus- band was slowly fading me. My now husband was acting father training me. Training me to submit what little I had of myself to what he wanted me to be. Later on I realized that his control was kept by Keep- ing me pregnant. As long as I was pregnant and Kids under foot I needed him. Never being a part of a family unit I craved that! In the beginning the Kids were my own created family unit. My love for my kids and that family unity helped me endure a lot from my husband, my my jailor, my father, my boss. Until one day alone sorting threw what seemed like a never ending laundry pile, I realized I was alone. No one to Keep an eye on, No one to breast feed, no one just me. All my Kids were young but self sufficient solely because of me. I was 30 years old and tired. I walked out on them all, with only my purse, the car that was in my named and alone. Never truly leaving but limiting my part to the unit, family, I helped create. I’d never truly been able to live free of my husband and Kids. I felt wild and free. I wanted have fun be the free I was never aloud to be. I tried things, all things, drugs, men, woman with no boundaries. My Love for my babies Kept me going home to mommy them but running as soon as my husband would get off work. The current man in my life was a supplier to our area. My older boys would help him move his poison. Of course against my wishes they moved drugs for him. In the process my second oldest of seven was arrested with some very large drug charges. facing 45 years at only 18 years old I panicked to save my son. Borrowing from every source I could tap the plan was to free him before sentencing and let him run. After a gun sale gone bad meaning I assaulted a young drug dealer with the AK 47 I was trying to sell to get the rest of my sons bail. I ran and in the process our car was shot up. When we pulled into the circle K parking lot our intention only to inspect the car. I finished the last of a script of Xanax and went in the circle K with the AK now soaked with the drug dealers blood I’m holding the cashier at gun point explaining that my gun was loaded but I needed six hundred more to go get my son. The funny in the middle of a mess I fell asleep while my current girlfriend tried for the money. Shortly after the cashier hit me with my own gun I was arrest and charged with robbery with a fire arm, Home invasion with a fire arm, assault with a fire arm. My point being a life not lived is lesson not learned. Lack of living meant I lacked the mental tools I needed to handle my freedom. The tools I need to handle teenage children not far from my own age. Taught to obey one man full of selfish intention I never grew until now in this prison. I’m forced to see and come to face me. I learn something new about me everyday right here caged but free to find me.

-Verna Sealey