Nov. 7, 2016
6:45 a.m.
Watching the local news

Murder, Plea Bargains, Deals, and More. What's Right?

Good morning. As I wake up and get ready for work to earn my $1 for 5 hours of hard work (but I did want the job), I see on the news that a man and his wife murdered a man 14 years ago. Here's the story from the news.

James and Stacey Britton murdered a man in 2002. The man's body was found in their basement. They murdered him, dismembered the body, burned it, and buried what was left over in their basement. They are on trial in Monroe County, Stroudsburg, PA. But when I say "they" are on trial, I mean Stacey Britton. Her ex-husband, James Britton, plead guilty and guess what he was sentenced to? Give up?

He didn't get life. The judge gave him 15 years.

Stacey Britton is on trial right now. I guess she decided to fight it. That's all the details the news gave me.

What I did is almost exactly what I did, but I didn't burn the body. What frustrates me is that this guy got 15 years. I've been here for over 18 now and if I had this guy's judge, I might have gotten the same deal. I would have plead guilty in a heartbeat and saved myself from this life sentence and the county from the cost of a trial. I'm really baffled by this. I can't seem to get a break in life. My complaining is in no way meant to diminish the fact that I killed a man but, in my home state, how do you give this man 15 years, me: life, and his wife life in prison? He was the one who killed the man. So for killing him and testifying against his now ex-wife, he gets 15 years? Our justice system is so flawed.

I watch a lot on the news on how cops are famous for the phrase "Stop resisting" when they take you down. They are trained to yell this out loud. Same in here.

I was remembering my past. I was in juvy. Another kid stole my sneakers from my cell. When I tried to get them back, his gang jumped me. I was 13. About six of them beat on me for a good five minutes. Long story short, the guard smacked me in the face and humiliated me. He made me strip to my underwear, threw my clothes in the trash can, and told me that I was a bitch for letting them take my shoes. I spit on him. I was 13 and didn't know how to react. This was a staff who was supposed to protect me.

He radioed for assistance, then he held me down while other guards came in. They stepped on my hands, kicked my ribs, spit on me. The entire time, the original guard yelled, "Stop resisting! You have to stop resisting!" I was a 13-year-old child, screaming and crying. I ended up with broken ribs, broken fingers, black eye, bruises all over, and they took pleasure in kicking the bottom of my feet. That was really bad pain.

26 years later, I still remember it. But the entire time I was being hurt by grown men, officers of corrections. The one guard kept yelling, "Stop resisting!"

Time for me to go to church. Can't miss mass. Take care. Protect your children. Don't let them have the life that I had. Even bad kids can be saved. They don't have to end up in a place like this. Don't ever give up on your kids.

God bless, ciao.