Chief Piece- The House

A few days ago I was released from the combine, they placed me in the town of West Hartford. I guess they liked this town because it isn’t too remote but isn’t a city. I never thought that I would be leaving the Combine. In my many years there, I was the first Chronic to be released. I’m worried that I’ve gotten used to being handled by the black boys and the big nurse and that I won’t be able to survive on my own. They’ve put me on parole and have shrinks and officers checking in with me all the time. I’ve forgotten how great it is to shower when I please and not have some hairy guy shave me against my will. As part of my parole they make me bag people's groceries at Whole Foods. The job is fine, I get tired often and get bored. I have to pick groceries up, put them in the bag, be nice to the customers (4). The cashier doesn’t like me, he thinks I’m crazy, like I am. He thinks I’m dumb or deaf because he always makes fun of me to the other co workers. To be honest it doesn’t really bother me that much. During my breaks I like to eat at different spots. One of my favorite spots to eat at is at Kingswood Oxford, it’s this school right across the street. KO has a really nice campus. They have beautiful fields that look over the street, I like to sit there when I can. There’s also this guy who rides around in a red car. I think he’s the campus police or security guard. Every time I even hear that car I run as fast as I can since I know they will throw a fit if a psycho like me was on their campus. One time when I was there I went by this house on campus. I was shocked that someone lived right in the middle of the school. Then I looked into the windows and saw posters and desks and realized it was a classroom. I had never seen a classroom like that. The whole building looked like it was ancient. The paint peeled like dry skin and the colors were very dim and there were cracks all up the side of the walls, not the place that you’d expect children to learn in (4A). The cracks were filled with mud that looked like blood oozing from the building. Right when I was peering into the window this woman walked out. She dressed as if she were homeless but judging by her books she carried she was a teacher. She wore a shawl that looked like she had knitted it herself. It hung to the ground; I wondered how she walked without tripping on it. She had her hair in a bun and wore odd sandals. She had a scarf that looked like there was a raccoon around her neck. When she saw me I turned my back and walked away, I was afraid that she would see me as a threat and call the campus police who would send me back to the Combine and I did not want that to happen.