A King is Born

By Miykael Israel

A King is born is about a young boy who unknowingly came in contact with alien life at six years old. That young boy started to have dreams of the future that revealed his paths. One of the paths lead to his incarceration he came face to face with an alien being know as the king of the universe. That being taught him the secrets hidden in a tempered book known as the Bible, but the bigger revelation hidden within his veins. A secret that tied him to the mystery of the Bible. The king of the universe promised David that he would have a seed to rule upon his throne in Israel. And this kid born in the ghettos of America is the promised redemption of Israel's throne, but his life extends beyond the throne of Israel. The king of the universe tied the child to the throne of heaven/space. The only known soul from this planet that the title was bestowed to. This book is written as lived by the writers life events. Some readers may find the narrative offensive to religious exceptions. The narrative is no different than when David's son Ab_sa-Lom having sex with king David's wives before all of Israel in 2 Samuel 16:20-23. Or the wars and killing done throughout the Bible.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Nov 10, 2021
• ISBN: 9781667810669

Book preview

Chapter One

The year was 1994

A 14 year old black kid looked about as cars pulled into the parking lot of the 7 -11 he was standing in front of. White people looked at him with fear and anxiety. He slid his hands into his pockets and felt the cold steel of the 22 revolver he had. Headlights illuminated his face as a box Chevy pulled into the parking space in front of the phone he’s standing against. In the darkness of the interior sat two white males facing him. The passenger door flew open and a slim white man exited the car. Bracing his forearm on the door, he locked eyes with the kid. The kid remembers seeing the dude around the neighborhood. The car door slammed and he approached the payphone. His murderous looking eyes alarmed the kid. You look like the one that robbed me. The kid’s mind is racing because he has no idea what this dude is talking about. Bra, you got me mixed up with someone else. Naw I’m pretty sure it was you that robbed me a couple of nights ago . The kid’s hand was still planted on the gun in his pocket. Get out of my face, I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. He stepped closer to the kid. You want a piece of me? With a swift motion he shoves the kid and his back explodes into the payphone. Several thought’s run through the kids mind. He’s only 14 years old and this dude is out to hurt something tonight. The 22 flew out looking small and lethal in his hand. He held the pistol up sideways with the barrel pointed down. You want a piece of this white boy, and opened fire. The first bullet hit him in the hip and he doubled over. Time seemed to slow down as the kid watched the reaction on his face in his realization that the kid shot him. History would repeat itself with Tavon Martin being the victim in the future. But this night, Derrick Gilbert held the gun. And he intended for this cracker to pay for his racism. Gunshots continued to dispel the calm night. The white dude and the kid both ran in opposite directions.

Chapter Two

Four years ago 1990

Awakened by something strange. A soft sound of movement evacuates the closet. Suddenly the kid noticed a body lying next to him. Paralysis and fear grips him. Memories of that dreadful night 5 years ago imprinted on his brain, will never be forgotten. Lifted from his bed, the presence of something powerful filled his room. His eyes were shut tight! Frantically his lips moved up and down, mama mama, no sound came out of his mouth. For some strange reason he didn’t have a voice. Floating in thin air, he descended back to the bed. The memory of that night became the twilight zone of this night. The body next to him started to move again. Gathering courage, he sat up in bed. Who’s there? A small voice said, Derrick , I’m scared. The closet is making noise again. Thought’s of dead relatives from Louisiana entered his mind. Family members swear that our dead visit them. Derrick did you hear me? Yea I heard you. You can sleep in my bed tonight. His two other brothers slept soundly. No amount of hood training can prepare him for this. You would think there’s security in two bunk beds in one room. He’s feeling far from safe tonight. Using a trick he learned, taking deep breaths, he forced himself into an induced sleep. And escaped the horrors of the dark.

Chapter Three

October 4th 1994

What the hell happened last night Derrick thought. Minding his own business, he became a wanted juvenile. The memories invaded his head. After the visit nine years ago from some strange entity. The future unfolds itself within his dreams. He doesn’t understand how one dream foretells a life in prison. And the next he’s the President on the steps of the White House. Couped up in his mama’s house. Police tread the city looking for him. He also had to report to his P.O. today. With no intentions to go to juve, he picked up the phone and called the probation office number. The answering machine picks up. Only the sound of his breathing could be heard over the line. The phone went dead in his hand. He looked at it. Setting it down, he lit a cigarette pacing the floor contemplating his next move. At 14 years old, a man’s weight burdens his shoulders. A basers rental sent him to juve for G.T.A. last month. Now the probation is like a dark cloud over his head. The doorbell rings! He bolted for the door and peaked out. Damn he thought as he opened the door facing two grim looking cops. They quickly snatched him from the threshold and cuffed him. What the fuck you doing pig, he asked. Your under arrest for attempted murder. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you can’t afford one, one will be appointed to you. Do you understand these rights? Yea, fuck you white boy! Half dragging, half carrying, he was hauled away.

Chapter Four

March 15 1995

The jury has been deliberating for an hour now. Court security made Pinellas County history. The court was packed with Uhuru and protestors. After the victim testified, the court recessed and placed him on a plane to Philadelphia at Clearwater airport across the street. Outside the courthouse, protestors marched. How could a 23 year old man get away with attacking a 14 year old boy? St. Petersburg is on the verge of a riot. No longer charged as a juvenile, he’s facing adult prison time setting at the defence table. He spotted the Bailiff exiting a door behind the judge. The verdict is in Your Honor he whispered. Judge Waldo took the folded paper from the bailiff’s hand. Peering into the folds, he picks up the gavel and bangs it a few times. Order in the court, ORDER IN THE COURT, he yells. Mr. Gilbert, could you please stand. You have been tried in a court of law by a jury. The jury has reached its verdict. Mr. Foreman, please stand and read the verdict… We the jury find the defendant, Derrick D. Gilbert, GUILTY of Aggravated Battery. Thank you Mr. Foreman, you may be seated. Derrick Gilbert, having been tried and found guilty of aggravated battery. I now sentence you to 4 years in prison with a 3 year minimum mandatory. You may file your appeal within 30 days. Do you wish to make a statement at this time? Yea I would. How in the hell I get attacked by that redneck. And you bitches find me guilty? I’m tired of these clan meetings you mother fuckers are holding in this goddamn courtroom. The gavel bangs the judge desk furiously. MR. GILBERT! Fuck you cracker!! Chaos erupted in the courtroom. Protestors rushed the small wooden gate. The line of Bailiff’s prevented their advance to judge Waldo’s bench. Surrounded by Bailiff’s, they hustled Gilbert out the courtroom down a secured tunnel that led to the jail… Ten hours later in chains and shackles he boarded a van at four in the morning. His first time going to prison, and he was nervous. The movies about dropping the soap and all the faggots housed behind the fense, brought this nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach. It ain’t going to happen, he thought. He rode in silence down I-4 to Orlando Reception Center. The ride took about 2 hours to get to the gate they were parked at. They were early, a big gate rolls back and the van slides in. The gate closed behind them and the gate officer walked around the van with a mirror on a pole, making sure no contraband entered the prison. The second gate opens and they proceed to a big garage with three gates. The van backed into the middle gate. And it closed behind them. Keys jingle as the back door of the van opens. Come this way inmate! He’s led into the back of a building into a big area only to stop at a counter. They processed his belongings and sent him to the showers. The few inmates on the benches turn their heads away from his nakedness. He quickly dried off and dressed. Some country ass cracker calls his name. Derrick looks at him, what’s up, he answered. He walked over to the 6‘3 240 pound correctional officer. Boy, you got one more time to address me like that. If you do, I’ll put my boot prints all over your face inmate. Around here it’s yes sir, no sir, you understand me. Derrick looked at the big piece of shit in front of him, but common sense kept any smart remarks deep in his throat. Yes sir he replied , as he was led to a holding cell. As it turns out, he was too young to be on the pound. Derrick sat in the cell of receiving for two hours as he watched huge inmates escorted back and forth in front of his cell. His thoughts were that going to confinement because he was too young to be on the pound was an understatement. It was more of the fact that he was too small at 130 pounds. A tap on the glass brought him out of his thoughts. A big black gorilla looking inmate at 6‘5 280 pounds stood looking down at him. Jitterbug…" Do you smoke? Derrick shakes his head up and down. The huge nigga pulls out his top tobacco pouch and placed a good chunk in a napkin. He then tore half his match pack and put it in the napkin with rolling papers. He looked around and slid it under the door. Keep ya head up Jitterbug! Then he walks away to continue his journey in prison. Hoping that his act of kindness will ease the fears in the youngbloods face. Minutes later, an officer arrived to take him to confinement. He was chained and shackled , and led away to his new cell. Where he will spend the next few months until he heads to his new camp.

Chapter Five

St. Petersburg Fl.

March 16,1996

The sound of an alarm clock pierced the