Outskirts Press, INC.

Welcome to the struggle!

The System tells a revolutionary story of a young man caught in the brutal reality of poverty and violence. Young Brandon Parks becomes submerged in New York City's underworld of crime. Brandon details his life as he's plagued by the three systems: school, drugs, and prison. Highly intelligent and confident that he is destined for greatness, Brandon blames society for his failures. Finally, Brandon begins to fight back against the very government that created him.

Standing up from the cot I approached the bars, sweat still dripping from my brow and my stomach still aching from lack of decent food. “My mail. I want my mail,” I proclaimed in a raspy voice. My vocal chords had been stripped of me due to the fever. “I know a package was sent to me, officer. I need my mail now!” Surely I thought that word would be given from the street on how to get me out of here. My men would send me some type of food. They would have too, or else I feared that I would eventually starve to death.

“No mail for you, Parks.” His bass filled voice answered in reply. I could have sworn that I heard a sense of disrespect in his tone.

“I know you got my package you fucking pig!” I spoke without thinking. It was an instinctive reaction of sorts. It must have been the fever taking hold of my senses, or maybe it was my hatred of police that made me do what I did next, but I regretted my reply as soon as I said it.

“Would you mind repeating what you just called me,” His words were clear and calm. He walked towards the bars of my cage without the slightest hint of fear in his approach. He was a monster of man in his size and it wasn’t until that moment that I had truly realized just how large. We were standing face to face, or shall I say more face to chest and a sense of relief swept through me as I realized that a set of iron bars still separated us.

“What did you just say to me?” Haynes asked me pronouncing each word slowly and loudly so everyone in the block could hear his words. “You New York boys always come down here and disrespect your superiors. Let’s get one thing straight Parks, in Rockwell Penitentiary you are under my authority. You are no longer little boys hiding under your mommy’s skirts. Quite simply, you boys are mine!” Haynes said confidently with his chest sticking out.

“Who the fuck are you calling a boy, pig?” This time I knew exactly what I was saying. The words were spoken with definite aggression behind them and I intended for everyone in the block to hear me. By approaching my cell and calling me a boy, I felt as though he was challenging my manhood in front of my cellmate and the rest of the block. If I had allowed him to speak to me in that manner, everyone else would have thought they could push me around too. He had disrespected me, and my comment towards him was just a small way of regaining that respect. My act of pride did not result in what I assumed would have been the outcome.

What happened next was simply frightful. Big Tom Haynes took off his hat and handed it to his companion, the rookie C.O. Robinson. Robinson took the hat silently and nodded his head, as if he had answered a question in complete agreement. Tom Haynes cracked both of his knuckles and reached for the keys attached to his belt. “Robinson, lock this door after me so I can teach this boy some respect.” Haynes said to Robinson as he opened the door. My mind went into an instant state of apprehension. Haynes had made up his mind to teach me a lesson.

From the way he swaggered it was obvious Haynes had never feared entering the cell of a prisoner before. And why should he? I was ill with fever, half starved, and weighed at least one hundred pounds less than him. At that moment the thought must have resonated through his mind. I can’t lose to him. I will not lose to him.

“What are you doing,” I said quickly. “You can’t come in here.” I spoke, but my words meant nothing to him.

Haynes grin widened. He must have imagined he heard fear in my voice. I knew that he was mistaken.

“In here, I own you. I tell you when to sleep, when to wake, when to work, and when to take a shit.” His right hand reach by his side and came out wrapped around a billy-club. “You don’t question me here! You do what I say.” He said smiling from ear to ear like a hyena.

I instinctively took a step backward, my eyes moved from Haynes’ fisted hands to his ogre-like face, and then back to his fist. Behind Haynes stood Robinson, peeking through the bars of the closed cell door. He had a large grin on his face, waiting for the entertainment to begin no doubt.

“All I want is what’s rightfully mine,” I said, still backing up slowly. Haynes continued to approach me until I realized that I had literally backed myself against the wall. We were now chest to chest with less than six inches separating Haynes and myself. My heartbeat began to thump with adrenaline from the approaching brute and just then an inferno of fury began to build behind my eyes. With surprising speed I seized Haynes’ arm simultaneously knocking the billy-club from Haynes’ swelled muscular fingers. The black metal billy-club flew from his fist and slid across the floor.

Still disoriented, I erupted with three flurry punches across his cheek and chin. Almost instinctively, Haynes grabbed me by my collar and flung me into wall with frightening ease. The back of my head slammed into the wall and I didn’t have to touch my scalp to know that I was bleeding. Incredible pain coursed through my body, but the pain didn’t slow me down. On the contrary, it made me angrier. I leapt from the floor with a savage upper cut that connected against his chin. Haynes stumbled backward and spat a bloody tooth on the floor. Haynes shook his head to clear it, but it was already to late, I had smelled blood and was now punching him at will. Haynes tried to put his hands up to defend against the punches.

Robinson peered through the hole in the metal door with breathtaking surprise. Thomas Haynes was being beat by a single prisoner? He would have never believed it if he didn’t see with his own eyes.

For the first time in his tenure as head C.O. at the prison, Haynes had forgotten about his strict rules. He forgot about teaching me a lesson. He forgot everything but a desire to survive. For the first time in Haynes career as C.O., he was afraid. A low growl full of rage came from Haynes as he charged me embracing me in a brutal bear hug. My arms were snatched up within his and I could feel the pressure of his massive arms literally squeezing the breath out me. I tried to breathe but in the attempt I coughed up blood. I knew then that Haynes was trying to kill me and I glanced toward the door to see Robinson staring with amazement at the brawl. I knew he wouldn’t dare interfere with one of Haynes’ fights. I could feel my eyes closing. He was squeezing the very life out of me. My God, he was trying to kill me! It’s funny how you always seem to call on a higher being when your life’s in danger.

I was desperate and I could feel my body slipping into unconsciousness. My arms were entangled within his and my feet dangled inches off the floor. Desperation soon turned into rage. I thought of how my mom, Ms. Miller, Paco, and Ben tried to beat me and I refused to be beat on again. I had fought my entire life, and my mind rejected the thought of being beaten, even once more. Using the only weapon still available to me I head butted him breaking his nose with a bloody crunch. When Haynes released his grip, he stumbled back in pain and I began to swing roundhouse punches at him at will. Bloody and swelling, he collapsed against the wall and I began to measure the distance to Haynes’ face as I rocked him with devastating rights and lefts.

“Am I gonna get my mail now, mouthafucka,” I said panting, still out of breath. “Do I have to kill you, huh?”

“Stop,” Haynes replied groggily, the word was barely audible through his bloody steadily puffing lips. “I’ll give you your packages just stop…”

With those last words Big Tom Haynes slowly slid down the cell wall as his body fell into unconsciousness. At first I thought that I had killed him, but I was only too relieved when he began to snore heavily. I stood over the sleeping body of my opponent with my fist clenched and then turned my attention to the shocked Robinson, who was still staring through the hole in the door. I stared through him like a jungle cat stalking his next prey. One look at my cold eyes and Robinson took off running down the hallway, requesting backup like the Devil himself was fast on his heels. Watching the rookie C.O. running away like that brought joy to my cold heart and for the first time since being incarcerated, I smiled.