Sitting in Chains

By Kathryn Chinn

As the world takes a tough turn, Kat's reality is neither here nor there when she becomes incarcerated. After attacking two officers of the law, Kat has no way out. The only thing she could do to help herself was to look within and search for the things that were missing. Kat's journey is harsh and internally brutal. The things that happen while incarcerated become the toughest struggle that Kat must face herself.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Fulton Books, Inc.
• Release date: Dec 4, 2023
• ISBN: 9798887312293

Book preview

Table of Contents

Title

Copyright

Hera's Arrival

Hera

9 AM

Our Old Life

The Next Day

Back to Louis

My Dreams

The Past Months

My Cell Corridors

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

About the Author

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Sitting in Chains

Kathryn Chinn

Copyright © 2023 Kathryn Chinn

All rights reserved

First Edition

Fulton Books

Meadville, PA

Published by Fulton Books 2023

ISBN 979-8-88731-228-6 (paperback)

ISBN 979-8-88731-229-3 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Hera's Arrival

W here are we going, Daddy? I asked as our father was driving down the road. He was headed toward Port St. Lucie.

Port St. Lucie was not far from the town where I was born. It was like one county over but seemed to take hours to get to. What kid doesn't think that everything takes way too long though? I felt as though this was some epic adventure because our dad did not let us know what we were doing, but we kids had to be there for it.

Well, I wanted a dog, so we're going to see some puppies, my dad replied.

Oh, cool! What kind of puppies? I asked excitedly.

Rottweiler puppies, he answered calmly, looking at me while he was driving.

Ace looked at me as he pulled himself forward and grabbed the sides of the two front seats. I couldn't help but see the excited look in his eyes, but then as he turned his head toward our father, I could see the hesitation. Nonetheless, he shouted out, We're getting a puppy? It had been a long time since I saw Ace that happy, and I think this was the happiest he would ever be. Well, until we all had our turns becoming adults and finding our way out into the world.

Yep, my dad replied.

What'd you say it was?

Skyler was the oldest out of three of us, and she knew where to step and where not to step when it came to talking to Dad. She also got the blunt force of the abuse, but it was in a very ill and perverted way. Dad was an ill man that did some things that would turn a person inside out if they knew all the crazy things that he had done. It wasn't just us three. It was the two older ones too. He punished them just as he punished us, and I think that is the main cause for them to neglect us the way that they have always done. Skyler hesitated for a few seconds as we all looked at Dad driving down the road, then she spoke.

Can we afford another dog? she said very carefully. I mean, Mom does work very hard, and I just don't want to have another animal if we can't afford it.

Dad looked in the rearview mirror as to say he was offended without saying it. Your mother and I agreed to get Zeus a companion, so he wouldn't be lonely, he said.

So what's her name going to be? I had to ask. I was so curious.

Hera, most likely. Since Zeus is a Greek god's name, we thought that we would name her after his wife, Hera.

My father started to explain the Greek gods in Roman times, but I wasn't listening. I was too excited to pay attention. My mind drifted into a daydream as he drove.

We rounded the corner to the house that the puppies were at, and there it was. Thank God there wasn't a lot of woods as an address. Our father would have taken his anger out on us. The house was void of plants, and there were no vehicles parked in the driveway.

Maybe no one is home, he said.

But, Daddy, you said that there were…

Well, let's check it out and see first, okay? he said.

My brother, sister, and I fell silent as we watched our dad pull into the driveway of the house where the puppies were. We stayed silent because he told us that he needed to talk business with the owners. We knew better than to interrupt his conversations. He wasn't the nicest man at the time.

He opened the door of his SUV that he had at the time. It was a GMC Jimmy. White. He had the sternest way of exiting vehicles, and this SUV was his baby. I guess his Jimmy made him feel important.

He was a large man at the time. He weighed about three hundred pounds. Maybe even three hundred and fifty pounds. He did work out, but he had a gut as if he was pregnant. I guess he loved to eat as much as he loved to be abusive toward us kids, and there was nothing that we could do about it because of his size and demeanor. I personally believe that he was obsessed with military types of discipline because he was in the military at one point. I'm also guessing that is how he was fit and fat like a bull of some sort.

Be right back, he said after he exited the vehicle. He walked to the door as we all stared at him from the Jimmy. We were always scared when he was around, so we waited until he was far enough away to start talking about him or whatever just came to mind that was the topic of conversation. That day though. It was just about him and that new puppy. Hera. There was no point in talking about anything else. All our kid business was with the children in the neighborhood. On this day, we focused on our dad and that dog.

He knocked on the door, and there was a pause. He knocked again, and finally, the door opened. A man that had glazed-over eyes answered the door. He was an African American man that looked like he was in his late twenties or early thirties.

I can only hope that no one takes this the wrong way. Our father was racist. He used to force it into our heads to not like certain races that he didn't like, yet that never worked out for him. None of my siblings and I are racist against any ethnicity. Since the man that owned the dogs was Black, it concerned me that our father stepped inside the house to talk to the man. God could only know how twisted that man's thoughts were at that time and what was running through his head when he entered that man's home.

Oh no, I said.

What? my sister replied.

Daddy doesn't like Black people, I responded, a little frightened.

Shut up, Kat. She hit me lightly in the arm as she said this.

What! What did I do? I said, chuckling a little.

You know he doesn't like that, she said nervously.

What, Black people? I chuckled.

Oh my god, Kat! Just shut up!

Yeah, Kat, my brother said.

The conversation became a joke as we all talked about our father. We had always talked about him like that when he wasn't around. It was our only outlet. Homelife didn't allow us much freedom to be so open about our lives. I look back at this memory and laugh. Even though the meanest person in our lives was only a few yards away, we were able to have just that much freedom to blow off some steam.

I still don't get why he doesn't like them, I stressed.

Me neither, Ace said. There's nothing wrong with being another race. I don't know why he hates them. I like Black girls.

Yeah, Skyler agreed.

It seemed my brother didn't want to open his mouth too much because of the consequences of being caught talking bad about the man that would beat him so badly that he had to lie on ice. He did speak at some points, yet he didn't have much to say in fear that he would have to face the wrath of our dad. My brother had his own issues at the time and did act out because of the abuse at home. He often misbehaved outside on the street because he needed an outlet.

Skyler? I asked my sister.

She looked at me and smiled halfway and responded, Yeah.

What do you think they are talking about? I asked nervously.

I don't know, Kat. Just shut up. I'm trying to see what's going on. Ugh, you're always in the way, she said, pushing me away a little bit.

My sister's impatient authority over me was obvious. Unfortunately for me, that meant that if she had gotten tired of me and acted out on it, I might get harmed. It was cool though. Sometimes back then, I didn't know how to behave, and she would straighten that up.

Yeah, Kat, my brother chimed in.

Shut up, Ace! I replied.

Don't tell me to shut up, Kat! He giggled, teasing me.

I started to turn red, and instead of watching for our father, I squeaked out, No, you shut up!

No, you guys, really shut up, my sister responded, and it sounded serious.

We looked to see our dad walking around from the back of the house. We saw him walking up the side of the house with no dog in tow. Just our dad. He always frowned as he walked. As a matter of fact, up to the last minute of knowing the man, he always frowned unless he was being abusive. He came to the driver's side door, and the window was down, so he stuck his head in.

Get out, you guys, he said, looking at the three of us.

What? we all said at once.

We didn't know what to do because he usually did not involve us in his business. Today was kind of special for him though. We were getting a new puppy, and it was to be our father's until he grew tired of her like he did everything else.

He shook his head and asked, Do you want to see the puppies or not?

Yeah! we screeched at him, trying to fight one another as we got out of the Jimmy.

Move! Ace said, pushing Skyler off him.

No, you move! Skyler lashed back.

Hey! Don't make me beat the shit out of you when we get home! our dad responded sternly as he pointed his finger at us.

Our dad was not about to tolerate our indecency in public. No way in hell was that man going to let us embarrass him in front of other people. He meant what he said when it came to beating our asses. That man was not playing. We all shut up after he said those words and kind of froze along with it. Like stepping on eggshells, we looked him in the eyes, waiting for his next move.

Do you want to see the puppies or what? he said, trying to make us happy.

We kids were always forced to show outward happiness because our father did not want the public to think anything was going on inside the home. We always had to express joy, especially in situations like this one, so we all shook our heads yes and got out of the Jimmy.

The sound of the doors opening and shutting while creaking triggered this memory for me. I remember the sound of his somewhat kept-up, messed-up Jimmy, which he loved so dearly. I had a taste for it at the time also. I liked his Jimmy. It was an upgrade for him at the time also. I was tired of the old run-down Cadillac. He had an obsession with those things. He had finally got something worthwhile to me, and I loved watching him work on it at home.

Only the awkward swishing of our clothing and feet stepping on the grass could be heard until we rounded the corner of the house where the dogs were being held. Then the bitch and the sire could be heard barking at us, not knowing who we were. They were separated, and I didn't know exactly why, so I asked my dad.

Don't ask questions. You're being rude, he responded.

The man that owned the dogs overheard the short conversation that my father and I were having and responded. Oh, them? They don't really get along.

To me, that meant that they only let them close to each other for breeding porpoises only. At the time, I did not know that my dad was paying for the puppy. Now it is very apparent looking back that those two animals were kept making money off and not really used as a member of the family.

What are their names? I asked.

Shut up, my father whispered into my ear after grabbing my arm. Obviously, he did not want me talking to the owners of the dogs.

The man's voice was deep, loathing, foggy, annoying, and mysterious every time he spoke to me in a whisper, especially on the days he wanted to molest me. His voice would make a person want to vomit sometimes. At least, I thought so. Every time that man spoke, my gut dropped in fear.

His eyes were no different. He wasn't a drinker, and he didn't do drugs. He was just sick. The man had an ill way of disciplining us. His spankings were brutal. His blows could be heard by every one of us kids that heard the other getting the raw end of his abuse. Those eyes would make anyone in this world vomit. Like his voice, they were just completely mean.

As he spoke to me that moment, as he whispered in my ear, I developed a phobia of people whispering to me. I promised myself as a kid, I would never let a man talk to me that way. Whispering was fine, but the taunting and threatening were what made me tick like a bomb in later years. To this day, my counselors believe that my post-traumatic stress disorder toward men makes me go off ten times as hard on individuals that are abusive.

When that man spoke to me in that way when he did, I knew to keep my mouth shut unless I knew I could get away with it. On this day that I am speaking of, I knew that I could talk him into giving me that puppy. I wanted one so badly.

The man's wife opened the back door that led to their laundry room. She was beautiful, even in her pajamas and no makeup. She had messed up hair and well messed up everything, yet she was still beautiful as ever. The laundry room was casually messy. The clothing was in a small pile in one corner, and it smelled like laundry detergent and cigarette smoke. Then the puppies rushed right past her and into my arms.

Don't touch them, my father said sternly.

Why? I asked, curious.

You and I both do not know what they have. They could have anything, and I'm not taking you to the doctor if you get sick, he whispered underneath his breath as the couple walked out of sight for a moment. Let me examine them. I don't want you getting attached to any of them. We don't even know if we're going to take one home or not, our father continued.

Ace, Skyler, look! I said excitedly.

As I said this,