Kita Sway Or No Way

By Kesha Denice

Tired of living life according to every one else's rules, Kita Sway decides that things will be done just like her name states or they won't be done at all. A life altering experience at her job as a correctional officer forces her to take a leap of faith and follow her life time dream of becoming an event planner. Her first major planning event changes her life in a way she never imagined.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kesha Denice
• Release date: Aug 1, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393201489

Kesha Denice

A native of Chicago, IL, Kesha was born on January 12, 1975, to Ray and Valerie Harrell. In 1980 her family moved to Galesburg, IL, where she discovered her love for writing in the third grade. She participated in the Young Authors writing contest and submitted a short story titled The Case of the Missing Coin, which earned her third place.Kesha's family moved to Bloomington, IL in 1983. From 1989 - 1993 she attended Normal Community High School where she was Co-Editor for the school newspaper. Kesha had many articles published, and earned a Blue Ribbon Award for her Editorial writing. She went on to attend a junior college to pursue a career in Journalism. After completing her first year, she placed her education on hold to marry and start a family.In 1995 Kesha returned to school part time and held a variety of interesting jobs. In 2001 she was hired at a Fortune 500 Insurance Company and once again put her education on hold. Determined to finish what she started, she returned to school in 2006 and simultaneously balanced working and going to school full-time. In 2008 she graduated from the University of Phoenix with a Bachelor's of Science in Business Management.Kesha spends her spare time on her true passion, writing fiction. She is a talented writer and has a unique ability to take a fraction of truth and put a realistic, yet fictional twist to her story that leaves her readers wondering what's real and what's not. She develops her characters in a way that will have you loving them one minute and hating them the next. Her stories are guaranteed to capture your attention from the very start, all the way through to the end.

Book preview

acknowledgments

SPECIAL THANKS TO MY stunning niece, Felicia Hodges, for being the model for my book cover.

Chapter 1

Kita woke up early Monday with an attitude. After spending the weekend doing what she loved, planning and hosting a local artist event, she was not looking forward to returning to her regular job as a correctional officer. She recently transferred back to the all-women’s facility where she worked when she first became an officer. The commute was shorter than the commute to the all-men’s facility where she transferred from.  If it weren’t for the commute, she would have much rather preferred working at the men’s prison. The men were far less dramatic and emotional.

She was going to miss the ease of working third  shift. The inmates were locked in their cells between 9pm and 7am, which meant she had minimal dealings with them for her entire shift. But today marks the end of that luxury. Someone with more seniorty than her at the women’s prison bumped her off thirdshift and moved her to first  shift before her first day.

Most people would appreciate working the day shift, but most people weren’t prison guards in a multi-level security prison.

For Kita, working first shift meant having to deal with inmates the entire shift. The most she ever had to interact with an inmate on third shift was if there was one working in her unit during that time.

She threw her covers back and sat up on the edge of the bed.

Shit! she yelled.

Snatching her cell phone off the night stand, she searched through iTunes. She needed the perfect music to get her mind right for what she was about to endure. Scrolling through her list of 1990’s hip-hop, she made her selection. As soon as the beat to Eazy-E’s Real Muthaphuckkin G’s started playing through her speakers, she could feel herself turn into Kita from the hood, which is who she needed to be to perform her job.

She grabbed her uniform out of the closet and ironed it, making sure to put crisp military creases in her pants as she was required.

After showering and eating breakfast, she was on her way. It was a 45-minute drive to the prison. She continued to listen to her 90’s station the whole way there. It had done its job by the time she arrived. She got out of the car, slammed the door and headed to the gatehouse.

Welcome back Officer Sway, one of her coworkers said. Or should I say, welcome to the jungle.

Kita gave him a half smile as she stepped into the small room where she had to go through a pat down before entering the prison grounds.

You’re good to go, the officer said, pressing the button to unlock the gatehouse door leading to the prison grounds. May the odds forever be in your favor, he joked.

Kita gave him the finger. When the door buzzed, she gave a hard yank to open it. Inhaling deeply, she crossed the threshold and, as usual, triggered by the terrifying sound of the heavy door closing and locking behind her, she faced the harsh realization that she may not leave the prison grounds alive.

Standing in roll call, she prayed that she would get assigned to an easy unit, specifically A-5, the rehab unit, where the inmates were serving time for non-violent crimes related to drugs. These inmates never caused problems because they wanted to get out of there.

Kita Sway, she heard Captain Conner call her name. Unit A-12.

Damn it! She was assigned to one of the maximun sercurity units.

She grabbed a rubber band from her locker and put her hair up in a bun.

Can I have the mail bag for A-12 please? she asked the mailroom operator before heading out to the grounds.

She hated working maximum security units. The inmates in A-12 weren’t getting out any time soon. In fact, most of them would still be there when Kita retired, so getting in trouble was no big deal to them. Some of them would deliberately do things so they could go on vacation which meant spending time in segregation. They looked forward to spending time in a quiet cellhouse with no cellmate, and privacy when it came time to use the bathroom. Taking a shit while someone is watching is uncomfortable for most people, even those in prison.

Kita had to take on an entirely different personality working in the women’s prison than she had in the men’s prsion. In the men’s prison, her beauty worked for her. She stood 5’4 with skin the color of brown sugar. The red tinted hair that traveled down her back was beautiful against her skin tone. She was often told, by the men, that her plump lips looked soft and kissable. The male inmates fell over each other trying to follow her orders and stay on her good side. In the women’s prison, her looks worked against her. The inmates didn’t take pretty girl officers seriously, and were constantly trying her patience. She was determined to quickly re-establish herself there, as an officer that you didn’t want to fuck with.

What’s up Officer Sway? I ain’t seen you in a long time! One of the inmates said, when she walked past.

Miss Butler, she responded with no emotion. She never forgot a face.

She badged into the control room of unit A-12 and set the mail bag down. Good morning Officer McNair, what are they doing out of their cells? she asked. Inmates are not let out out of their cells until after the morning count has cleared.

I promised them they could use the microwave early if they kept the unit cleaned last night. It was normal to make deals with the inmates in exchange for them doing chores.

What’s the shift report? Kita asked hoping the night before was uneventful.

Nothing too exciting, he confirmed. Just as he was about to get into the details of his shift, they heard something smack the window of the control room. They looked up and saw feces sliding down the glass, and Miss Butler standing there with a goofy look on her face.

Kita let out a sigh, It’s just too early for this bullshit! She pressed the speaker button, Miss Butler, clean that shit up in the next five minutes or I’m writing you a ticket. Most inmates didn’t want tickets because it meant some of their perks would be taken away, like getting to go to the commissary or getting to do extra events that were scheduled to keep the inmates from going stir crazy.

Miss Butler brought her other hand from behind her back and threw another glob at the window.

This bitch. Kita pressed the speaker button again. Miss Cumacho, she said, referring to another inmate standing at one of the microwaves in the common area. Please get a bucket and cleaner and clean off the window.

I think the fuck not! Cumacho said.

Natalie Cumacho was serving time for killing her her husband. She was mad at him because he was having an affair. She text his mistress from his phone and invited her over to the house for dinner. When she arrived Natalie welcomed her to her home, nicely explained that she knew all about her and was okay with what was going on. Imagine the mistress’ surprise when Natalie set her dinner plate down, containing the face of her lover, along with his penis in a hot dog bun. The other inmates on the unit knew just how crazy Cumacho was, and they knew she called all the shots. She could whoop anybody and would if you crossed her the wrong way.

Kita also knew this, and knew if she made her clean up the mess, Cumacho would catch Butler alone and beat her ass. Inmates knew if they laid a hand on any of the guards, that meant a trial, additional time and just an all-around unpleasant experience for the remainder of their stay. Kita had no doubt Cumacho would take it out on Butler.

Cumacho, clean it up and I’ll let you handle the trash later, Kita said knowing Cumacho knew what she meant.

Cumacho got up to get the cleaning supplies.

Miss Butler, please go back into your cell and clean yourself up, Kita instructed. She hit the button to open Butler’s cell door and closed it behind her.

I’m gonna leave that bitch in there all day, Kita told the other officer.

He laughed. He finished giving her the shift report, and gathered his things. Have a good day, he told her as he left.

Within a few minutes of him leaving, the siren sounded to indicate it was time to take a count of the inmates. Kita ordered the remainder of the inmates using the microwave back into their cells.

Once the last inmate entered her cell, Kita pressed the button to close all the doors.

She grabbed her clipboard and keys, let herself out of the control room, and started down the first wing of her unit.

Miss Butler, you need to show me your face, Kita said as she peeked through the little window of the door. Butler was laying in her bed with the covers pulled up over her head. When she didn’t respond to Kita’s request, Kita said more sternly, Show me your fuckin’ face so I can count you, or get another ticket and spend the rest of your day in there.

Butler threw the cover on the floor and gave Kita the middle finger in one swift move.

Thank you, Kita said flatly, putting a mark next to Butler’s name on the list. Enjoy the rest of your day in there.

Fuck you! Butler screamed.

I’ll slide your ticket under the door, Kita said moving on to the next cell to continue her count.

Miss Cumacho, thanks for cleaning that shit up, Kita said, as she peeked through the next cell window.

Officer Sway, why don’t you ever call us by our first names? Cumacho asked.

Cause we aren’t friends, Kita said.

The other officers use our first names.

I’m not other officers, Kita said.

When can I take out the trash? Cumacho asked, ready to make Butler pay for having to clean her shit off the window.

I’ll let you know. Kita put a check mark next to Cumacho’s name and continued down each wing of her unit until she accounted for all 48 of the housed inmates.

Inmate counts usually lasted about 45-minutes. This allowed time for all officers on each unit to tally their inmates and make calls to other units, to report if they had one of the other unit’s inmates working a detail on their unit. It also allowed time for the captain of the shift to call each unit and get the number of inmates on the unit. This was how they kept track of everyone.

Kita enjoyed the few extra minutes she got to spend alone, not having to deal with the women in between the time the count siren went off and the time the captain announced the total inmate count over the radio signifying the count was over.

She let herself back into the control room and sat down.

I hate this fuckin’ job. She thought as she threw the clipboard on the counter.

The money was good, and that was the only incentive convincing Kita to get up every day and come to work. The only reason she applied for the job was because her dad worked at a prison and kept talking about how much money she could make.

It’s an easy job, he told her, basing his opinion off the super maximum-security prison where he worked. The inmates are on lockdown 23-hours a day. All you would really have to do is serve them food at meal times. The rest of the time you’ll just sit there and babysit till your shift is over. It’s the easiest $45,000, and that’s just your starting salary!

It all sounded good, so she applied for the job. When she filled out the application, she had to select the top three prisons where she would be willing to work. Her first choice was the same super maximum-security prison her dad worked in, only a 30-minute commute. Her second choice was a minimum security, co-ed prison that was also a 30-minute commute, but in the opposite direction. Her third choice was the prison where she was currently working, a multi-level, all-women’s prison. She assumed she would get her first or second choice, however, it did not work out that way.

Captain Sawyer called her two months after she applied and completed the pre-employment testing, to offer her a position at the all-women’s facility.

I was really hoping to get a position at the super-maximum-security facility, Kita told him.

I understand; however, we don’t have any openings there at this time.

If I turn down this position, what will happen? Will I need to apply all over again?

No, Captain Sawyer said, your name would just be moved to the bottom of the list and you will eventually be called again as positions open, but there is no guarantee when your name comes up again that there will be a position in the facility where you want to work.

What do you recommend? she asked, not wanting to pass up a good opportunity.

"Well you can always accept this position, stay here a little while, and then put